As I walked down the hallways, people pointed and stared. Whispered and pitied. I knew why. I was the girlfriend of the boy who was drunk driving, then died.
We fought that night, in the car. That Saturday night, he invited me to his parents fancy restaurant. I wore my blue dress that reminded him of the waves in the ocean crashing onto the shore. His parents served his alcohol. They didn't care that he was underage. I didn't drink. I told him that I would drive once we got to his car. I had just got my drivers license. He said he was fine, he wasn't drunk. But I could taste the alcohol on his lips, in his mouth when we would kiss. We got into the car. We fought about what I should do about my older brother.
12 nights ago
Me: "He's 18. He can do what he wants."
Him: "Faith. We just found out that he's not going to university. He has a kid. With a girl he barely knew."
Me: "Charlie, you're drunk. I don't want you to say anything you don't mean."
He insists he's not drunk. He looks at me. His eyes. His eyes are so blue. Why did he choose me? Why does he love me?
There's a big crash.
CITEȘTI
faith not hope
Proză scurtăFaith is a shy yet outgoing rock music lover. Charlie is a bad boy. One night 10 months later their lives (and maybe deaths) change forever.
