He's a bad boy.
She's a nerd.
She's Mikayla Winter.
He's Jacob Burke.
They used to be the best of friends.
What happens when he needs a tutor?
And she's his only hope?
Can she find something she thought she already found?
And something he thought he...
a/n: •Happy thanksgiving!!! I'm grateful for all my amazing, wonderful readers.
11 - 27 - 2014 -
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~Mikayla's pov~
After thinking this, I swiped my phone from my back pocket and ran up the stairs to my room. Once in there, I kicked the door behind me closed with my foot and threw myself at my bed, already holding the phone to my ear and listening to the dial tone.
"Hey, Miki."
I wasted no time in telling her. "I have a problem," I said already looking around for a sweater.
"What happened?" she asked more seriously. I found the grey sweater I still had yet to give back to Jacob, at the foot of my bed. Then put the movies me and Jacob were supposed to watch in the large pocket. Looking down at myself I realized why I liked it so much. It was oversized making me feel comfortable, it was warmer than what you'd think, and it smelled like Jacob―even though he told me he barely ever wore it. I always liked the way Jacob smelled―whether I knew I liked him or not. He smelled like . . . I couldn't explain it, but there was a hint of cinnamon, and something else, I'm sure.
Zipping up the sweater, I answered, "I have to tell you this in person. Are you at your house?"
"Yeah, but Max is here with me." I halted in the middle of the staircase.
I shook my head even though she couldn't see me. "He can't hear."
Being my best friend, she understood without needing my reasons for coming over. "I'll have him go to the store when you get here, he bought his parents car." She paused. "Or we could just pick you up, Max'll drop us off at the house and then he can go to the store. I don't want you getting sick walking in the rain."
I sighed, heading back to my room just in case my father came from . . . wherever he was at. "Alright, but it's important," I informed before saying our goodbyes.
***
By the time Alyssa texted me she was a block away, I heard the engine of my father's beautiful car parking in the garage.
I panicked when I saw a car coming around the corner onto the lonely street I live on. The door joining the house to the garage slammed closed and I instantly knew he was at a bar drinking his life away. His uncoordinated footsteps bounced on the walls of the quiet house and I heard the bathroom door close, don't even ask how I know it was the bathroom door, when you live in a house for as long as you've been born, you know.
I groaned when I heard the honk outside. If my father comes out of the room while I was walking out of the house―the bathroom was right under the stairs and directly in front of the stairs was the front door―who knows what he might do.
