Fingers snapping in my ear bring me out of my trance that I was currently locked in. My head snapped up to meet Sam and Edan's stare. I raised my eyebrow. "What?"
Sam sighed. "I asked about your report on the game last Friday. Did it make the cut?"
I groaned. "Please don't talk to me about journalism using drama language, it irks me and yes, my paper made it on the Preston Daily."
I looked over to Edan. "How's your baseball team going anyways, Captain Rain?"
I smirked. He rolled his eyes. "We're fine. We going to Championships next month. Coach Bull wants us to practice more though. He's asking us to stay two more hours later than usual. Which is fine as long as we win."
Sam nodded." Just don't over work yourself. Wouldn't want to miss it just because you overworked yourself."
As they started to talk about Sam's next play, I drifted off into space staring at some random decoration on the wall.
Stepping out of Edan's Nissan Altima, I bent down to grab my bag from the passenger floorboard. I looked back at him and Sam. "Hey I've got to go to Mrs. New to discuss the arrangement of the newspaper, she still wants to do some old-timey crap. I'll catch you in second."
Waving, I started weaving through the slew of people that was Preston High School, home of the hurricanes. As I near the door to the newspaper office, I notice that there's someone else in there. I open the door and knock on the inside."Am I interrupting something?"
Looking at the boy who seemed about to raise his voice in anger at Mrs. New, brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, lean, dancer like.
"No." They both said simultaneously.
"Okaaay." I pointed at the computer behind them. "I just need to finish something for the design." They both moved far away enough from each other for me to get to the computer. As I passed the boy, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Weird. What is a boy like him interested in newspaper for?
As I'm working on the layout of the newspaper, I feel a pair of eyes on me. Not wanting to face awkwardness, I stayed staring at my screen.
Sitting on the railing in the courtyard, I was typing up my editorial piece on whether the school lunch should change from healthy to what kids wanted, junk food. Well I should say was because, as of current, I was engaged in an argument with the boy from the newspaper, who I learned was Everett, about whether art classes should be cut from the school so other classes could come in.
My stance was no, they shouldn't. His was yes.
"Why? Because not only do we have art students here,some I'm friends with by the way, but it widens our resources and help build our school credit among other schools."
He raises his eyebrows. "But if we cut them, that opens up for more classes. Like Law Studies."
"But what about the students who take art classes? What are they going to do? And if you want to take law studies and we don't have it, you can always submit a class request form. Lord knows this school can afford it, do you know who owns it? Principal Richards is like a billionaire."
Everest raised his eyebrows and whistled. "How? There's already like a thousand classes here."
I smiled. "He's like the highest level of doctor you can get. He's stationed at the big hospital in California. But yea, there's no need to cut art classes. Just send in a form and with the right reason and amount of people, the class will definitely be added to the curriculum."
Nodding his head, he bit his lip. His gaze was resting on a car in the parking lot across from the courtyard. When a man in a black trench coat stepped out, his whole body stiffened visibly. My brows furrowed.
"Who is that?" I questioned his behavior. Everett shook his head.
"Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta go. Catch you later, doll." And with that he took off, leaving me with a wave bye. I frowned and shrugged. Not my business.
The best thing ever is walking into my kitchen to the smell of French Vanilla coffee brewing, courtesy of my dad. And even better a platter of Dark Chocolate Walnut Cigars on the counter. Grabbing one, I walk over to my dad, Antony.
"Hey dad. Whatcha doing?"
He looks up from whatever he was working on, probably paperwork from a case. Being a lawyer, he rarely has down time but he spends as much time as he can with me and Ellie.
"Oh nothing, sweetheart, just some case for a friend about his kid. Gangs and murder kinda stuff." He answers. I give him a look of concern. I don't want him to get caught up in this case. Whoever committed murder could come after him. He sighs. "And before you tell me to be careful, 'cuz you know people are physopaths and you don't wanna have to plan a funeral or you'll murder me yourself if I become stupid enough to be publicly involved', I know, nobody knows I'm on this case besides Uncle Andy."
I smile and nod, I trust him. "Okay well, I'm going upstairs to study for AP Euro, kay?"
He nods and smiles back, going back to his work.
Somewhere around ten o'clock, I walk downstairs to refill my 'Drink Coffee Like A Gilmore' cup. My slippered feet shuffle as I wait for the machine to fill my cup. When the ding that lets me know that my coffee is done, I grab it and start the long trek that is the flight of stairs to my bedroom. I should really move downstairs because I'm lazy and detest anything to do with exercise. But I like food, so I'm stuck with exercising the rest of my life. Oh well.
Halfway up, someone rings the doorbell. Groaning, I walk back downstairs. I look through the peephole to find my best-soon-to-be-dead-friend. I open the door for her.
"What the fudge are you doing at my house at ten o'clock at night, Sam?" I cut her off. She winces.
"Is it really that late?"
I nod and purse my lips, studying her appearance. Though she's usually tan, she looks pale and her pupils are wide. "Are you okay?"
Looking up, her bottom lip trembled. Ushering her inside, insisting she's quiet, I lead her to my room.
*And no, she does not smoke, Dark Chocolate Walnut Cigars are a food. Well more a dessert.
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