"𝑤𝑒 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ, 𝑤𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠"
in which all of the adults in a small town in connecticut disappear and two high school rivals learn to make amends
note:...
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"the face is a picture of the mind with the eyes as its interpreter" -marcus tullius cicero
・・・
"Have a good trip, honey," said my mom, hugging me and kissing my hair. "And please, be careful."
"God mom, I will. It's literally camping, we went all the time with the Vissers when I was little," I said, grabbing my backpack and swinging it over my shoulder.
"Have fun, Lydia," said my dad.
I passed my aunt Carol on my way to the bus. "Hey, Lydia, have fun on the trip," she said.
"Thanks, Aunt Carol," I said.
"And take care of Sam, will you?" she asked. "I would have asked Campbell, but I know he couldn't care less."
"Of course I will," I promised. "I gotta go, I can't miss the bus."
I walked over to the closest bus, which was already quite full. I scanned the seats, looking for an empty space.
"Hey, Lyds!" shouted my friend Luke. He was sitting in the back, next to his girlfriend Helena. "There's a free spot back her!"
I walked to the back and groaned. The only seat open was next to none other than Grizz Visser, my former best friend, and current nemesis. He frowned and moved his bag to the floor to make room for me.
I pulled out my phone to text my best friend Becca.
Help me, I said. Look who I'm stuck with for the next few hours.
She turned around from her seat a few rows in front of us and started laughing.
Nice, she texted. You're stuck with one of the cutest guys at school and you're complaining about it.
Of course, I'm complaining. You know what happened with us, I said.
That was like, 6 years ago. Shouldn't you guys just kiss and make up?
Ew, I am not kissing him.
"Who are you texting?" asked Grizz.
I turned my phone off as fast as I could. "Why are you talking to me?" I snapped.
"Chill, I was just asking a question," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, it's just Becca."
"You're saying nice things about me, right?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
"For sure, I totally wasn't talking about how much I hate you," I said sarcastically.
He turned away from me to look out of the window. We began to pull away from where we were parked next to the central green of West Ham.
Clark Beecher leaned over the seat behind us and ruffled Grizz's hair. The bus lurched and he almost fell over.
