"You're back?"
I turn around to see Frida approaching me, in her hoodie and Nike shorts. Her ombré blue hair stood out the most as she got closer to me.
"I'm back." I shrug; swaying my legs back and forth since they were hanging over the dock.
The same dock that was a few minutes away from Frida's house.
"How is it that you can wake up so early in the morning, on a Saturday to be exact... just to catch the sunrise on this very spot?" She asks in astonishment; making herself comfortable on her spot beside me.
"I could ask you the same thing." I say with a mocking smile but Frida doesn't even flash a tooth at me.
She wasn't here to laugh and make jokes with me. It was obvious.
"What is it now?" I ask grumpily, seeing as I already knew what she might have to say to me.
"Ayla, are you okay?"
I sigh in defeat. "No."
"It's been two weeks since Hayden and Dean's little pussy fight. It's been two weeks since your photoshoot ended and it's been two weeks since Ryler even uttered an insult to you." She bumps her shoulder with mine. "What's going on, Ay? I want to help."
With a deep exhale I offer her droopy smile. "I just need sleep."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Waiting."
Frida frowns before looking at me in confusion. "Waiting? Waiting for what?"
"For a miracle to happen."
"Miracles don't just happen."
"Exactly."
The sound of the waves crashing below soothed my guilty conscience by a slither. Frida sitting beside me didn't exactly help my untamed thoughts either.
"Did you get into a fight with, Ryler?" She asks solemnly as if she was ready to find him and give him a punch that tasted like two years at the gym.
"No. Even worse."
"What?"
"I didn't say goodbye to a friend."
•••
Two Weeks Ago
• The Day Of Dean & Hayden's Fight
By the time I got home, I was out cold the second my face made contact with my pillow. To say the least, I was tired of the life style I never asked or even prayed for. I'm even starting to feel ungrateful that I was brought up in a rich family.
I rather be poor and happy than rich and unsatisfied with life itself.
My parents expect me to run their company someday and yet here I am- getting into problems that I somehow got involved in because of them. If it weren't for them, there would be no such thing as 'marriage' until I was over the age of 25.
YOU ARE READING
His Hidden Marriage
Teen Fiction"I do." He answered in a monotone. It was to be expected from the boy who was forced into this marriage agreement at the age of 15. He could at least smile a little since we were on the same boat here. But it was hilarious really; not one person i...
