❝good meets bad
calm meets wild
boy meets girl❞
➳ Two people from different worlds get locked in the local library. A good boy with straight A's, stays out of trouble meets the local rebel, a wildcard. What follows is an endless list of the...
As Brennan had said before lunch that day, she and I acted like strangers in school, but once we stepped out, I was seated in her passenger seat, on the way to a diner. "My mom hadn't stopped talking about you since dinner that, she's been bothering me, asking when you're going to come over."
"I have that affect with people I click with," she stated, brushing nonexistent dust off her shoulder. "She's cool, I wish my mother was like her."
"What do your parents work as?" I asked her.
"Travel agents," she said. "Of course I like the freedom, but sometimes I'd like them to show up once in a while and not to check in on the house—they think, because of how much calls they receive from school of how reckless I am, that I'd be holding a party every single weekend they aren't home."
"You don't?"
"I go to parties, not host them," she said, "too much work, too much to pay for."
"Aren't you rich?"
"Yes, but if my parents notice an immense of money being pulled out, they'll cancel my credit card and because I have Taz now, I can't have that," she explained. We arrived at the diner, getting a table for the two of us and ordered the same thing to make splitting the check a bit easier.
"So... tomorrow's Saturday, what tattoo are you thinking of getting?" She asked, a teasing grin on her face, the dimple denting her cheek slightly. "We can go at ten." An exaggerated frown appeared on my face, glaring at her. It's not that I'm against getting a tattoo—I admit that I've wanted one a few times. "If you think it's going to be painful, it will." She widened her eyes, emphasizing her words. I knew she was joking, but my mind couldn't help but believe it for a bit. "It feels like someone's taking a knife and running it right through your skin to created the art you want—it hurts like a motherfu—"
"Alright, alright," I cut her off, rolling my eyes at her exaggeration. "I'm not hesitating because of that."
"Why then?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, "Just worried of what people will think."
She closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips, "Look, Seavey, you need to learn to not care about what people think—in the end, it's your life and you can do whatever the hell you want, why do you think I'm such a cheery person?" She smiled widely, poking her finger into her indented cheek. "I don't care what people think, I do whatever I want because it's my life and I'm the one that controls it."
"I can't have that mindset so late in my life," I uttered, playing with the straw in my drink.
"It's never too late, my dude," she reassured me. I couldn't help but crack a smile at her, as the food arrived.
"But still keep up with your studies, even if I don't care about mine, you've gotten this far so you should keep it up," she added.
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lmao daniel getting a tattoo is cute in my head
hey, im currently having writer's depression where im writing a lot of chapters but they're making me sad :)
i revived my instagram fanacc (seaveysweetie) cuz its gonna take a while until the next important exam for my senior year, so im trying to be hella active
anyway, i'll be going on a school trip from this week, lasting five days and if i get wifi or some sort of internet connection, i'll update this book, but if i don't, then you'll have to wait until those five days are over. i've already written ten drafts for this book which are just waiting to be updated :)
that's all, don't forget to comment, vote and share :)x
