In a tale of friendship tested by time, London Danes and Paris Garcia were once inseparable. Yet, the shared pangs of high school crushes drove a wedge between them. Now, as college beckons, their rivalry intensifies as they vie for a coveted spot i...
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London practically stumbled from her hiding space and clumsily found herself standing in-front of the very surprised boy.
Dean had a book in his hand and his extremely dark eyes were lifted to look at her face.
She laughed nervously and thumbed towards the direction behind her. "Ha. Tripped. These park pathways can be pretty dangerous. I should. . .complain to the city council and demand satisfaction."
Wow, could she have been more awkward?
Dean offered a brief smile and then looked back to his book. His glasses kept sliding down the bridge of his nose and he simply pushed them back up again.
A cold wind blew around them, the park was mostly empty during the colder seasons. To the right of Dean, the space on the bench beside him was empty. Everything inside London was screaming for her to run away immediately, but she knew that if she didn't take a seat there Paris would.
London jerked herself forward and dropped down roughly onto the bench.
Dean scooted as far away from her as the bench would allow and continued to read.
London pretended to be retying her boot-laces while she searched her brain for anything to say to him that could be a conversation starter.
"That must be a really good book," London awkwardly blurted out.
Dean tilted his book towards her to show that it was a driving manual. "Studying for my driving test . . . " He said in clear English with a soft accent.
Well, she'd made a great first impression. He probably thought she was a total idiot now.
"Well . . . good luck with your test then."
This couldn't have gone worse.
Dean nodded, but didn't say anything.
London didn't know what else to say or do. She could feel her chances slipping away and could practically see Paris being welcomed into the sorority. God, they'd probably even laugh about it.
She looked into her empty open hands and suddenly felt an icy prick against her skin.
Her face turned up towards the gray-filled sky and another wet prick spattered against her cheek.
It was the rain.
It was freezing cold and coming down with little warning.
Why hadn't she checked the weather report?
She heard a snap and flapping sound beside her. Dean had just opened a large, black umbrella that reminded her of the sort of umbrella people at funerals used.
She stared at him, shivering and getting sprinkled with ice water. He looked at her and still seemed ready to leave. She wouldn't have blamed him for leaving. He turned to go, but then halted his steps.
