Living with guilt is hard, sure.
But living with that guilt while juggling guardianship of your little sister, navigating high school, pulling off nefarious, yet fairly tame illegal activities and being forced into friendships with random boys by y...
Posting this in a rush, suuuuper unedited, idek if it makes sense, tbh. I didnt even have time to make those cute text photos :( . Anyway, vote, comment, or not. Actually, yeah. Please comment, I am dying to know what people think. I give zero cares if it's not a good review, as long as it's not mean :)
ALSO WOULD ADORE COVERS AND STUFF.
Here's a picture of Ethan though, mmm
Oops! Ang larawang ito ay hindi sumusunod sa aming mga alituntunin sa nilalaman. Upang magpatuloy sa pag-publish, subukan itong alisin o mag-upload ng bago.
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Falling in Hate with You
Chapter Eighteen
The more time that passed between that surprisingly raw moment between Ethan and I in the tunnel, the more it seemed to just fit into the norm of our unexpected friendship. If I were to mark it on a tentative timeline, it definitely stood out with prominence, yet at the same time it didn't, because most of the interactions I've had with him were like that. At every turn he squashed whatever stereotype I had dreamed up of him.
It was impressive, although deep in my heart I wondered if that was such a good thing.
I had an incredibly hard time admitting it to myself – but I had to, because Lord knows I didn't exactly have any girlfriends to coax it out of me – but this boy had the ability to really hurt me.
And that was terrifying.
I had a lot more to lose than the average teenager. It wasn't only my heart or even my last few shreds of somewhat stable sanity on the line here; I had to consider Nikki in all this. I couldn't just throw caution to the wind and take that risk, because if things went wrong – and I was sure they would, cynic that I am – I would undoubtedly get brutally messed up from it.
Which also meant that Nikki would get brutally messed up, too.
I heaved a quiet sigh as I watched another raindrop race down the window of Jacky's car. The mellow music that played faintly in the background paired with the occasional squawk of the windshield wiper dragging itself across the glass made for an incredibly soft-grunge, introspective atmosphere. Jacky was silent, still dealing with whatever situation at home plagued him. I didn't try to pry or force him to smile, that was not how he worked. When he was ready, he'd give me a vague reason – usually more of a weak excuse – in a tone that gave more details than the actual words.
We were quite the pair of mopey, cagey kids.
Just when I thought the drive to the warehouses was going to kill me of boredom, my phone buzzed and I reached for it gratefully.
