After Brooklyn and Taj got their introductions out the way, they both took a seat with the rest of the council as Milena brought the attention to herself as she stood in front of us all.

     "So there's a quite a few things going on in the next few months here at Rosewood," Milena started. "The car wash to help raise charity for Lupus, the after-game fair, and finally prom."

I rolled my eyes at the mention of prom. I was still debating on if I'm going or not, but more than likely that's a big fat no for me.

"So for these events I decided to split it up into pairs to help organize them. For the Lupus charity event I want Brooklyn to help." Milena pointed at the girl who stared at her with a gawked expression.

Brooklyn looked taken aback. "Me?" She pointed at herself and Milena nodded. "You're part of the basketball team so I think it'll be cool if you could get some of your teammates to help during the car wash." She smiled.

"As for the after-game fair, I would like for Wynter and Taj to help plan a charity stand that we could do for it. Like a dunking booth, cookie stand, or whatever." My eyes quickly roamed over to Taj to see his roaming around for what I can only assume he was trying to figure out who I was. Once his eyes locked with mine he sent me a closed lip smile and I gladly mirrored.

Milena positioned the specs on her round nose before continuing to speak. "And the rest of us will handle prom since it's the biggest event of them all. Everyone okay with that?"

Everyone nodded in agreement and erupted into small chatter. Taj and I ended up trading numbers so we could talk about what to do for the after-game fair.

••••

I was the first to leave the meeting since I didn't really want to be there in the first place. Once outside, I pulled my hood over my head, releasing my board as my feet hit the deck. The wheels connected to the pavement, launching me down the sidewalk with a smooth, fluid motion.

What could I possibly do for the after-game fair? A cookie stand? That seems kind of boring and I can't cook to save my life. I remember last year they had that whole apple bobbing contest that a lot of the football player participated in. Maybe I should ask Declan what would be a good idea, but then again that would involve me actually talking to him and I can only do that for so long before I start losing brain cells.

Speaking of Declan, I haven't seen him since he dragged me to the mall the other day. It's been peaceful not having to worry about that stupid baby, but I just pray Declan hasn't fucked anything up. Knowing him, he'll probably return the baby back to me with one of it legs missing.

I dragged out a sigh as I kicked up the speed on my board. The bustling air flowing through my loose hoodie and into the rips of my jeans. The feeling was amazing and I wanted it to never end, but once I felt a sudden jerk, my breath hitched in my throat.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion as I flew off my board, and collided into something hard. I hissed aloud at burning sensation that tingled through my scrapped palms that followed by a wet sensation on my chest. "FUCK!" I yell, my hand instantly going to the back of my head where it had hit. No blood - but it sure feels like there should be.

I then looked down at my black hoodie to see it soaked a white substance. I frowned as I noticed the empty bottle of milk not too far from me. I looked at the boy who was also on his ass like I was, his face just as twisted and confused as mine.

Seconds after checking myself, I looks up to see a pair of hazel eyes on me. The boy had gotten up and made his way over to me. An apologetic look on his copper face. "Sorry," the boy said, avoiding eye contact as he tried his best to dry my hoodie with the sleeves of his sweater, to no avail.

"Uh," I started, still trying to process how the hell I fell. "Don't worry about it. I'm...it's fine." I grabbed hold of the boy's wrist and pulled it away from my hoodie. "You can stop."

The boy looked up and dropped his hand. He sent me a raised brow look and that's when I noticed the perfect arch in them. "Sorry."

"Stop saying that." I said.

"Sorry."


I dragged out a sigh. "Oh my god. It's fine. I'm fine. Stop apologizing." I gently pushed him away and took a safety-step back on my own accord.

When the guy looked up, I felt kind of bad for no logical reason. His lips hung open, probably out of habit, revealing his front teeth. His eyes were narrowed and warm, looking up at me with the most apologetic face I could imagine a guy like him giving.

Sure, he's pretty cute. But I'm was still kind of annoyed at him for drenching me in milk, so I averted my gaze quickly, as I felt my cheeks heat up from his gaze.

"Can I at least get you a drink or something?" The boy gestured to my hoodie. "Or a hoodie?"

He barely looked old enough to drink, his doe-eyed face telling me he was barely out of high school. But...was that a tattoo under his shirt collar? Not high school, then. Maybe college, but I wouldn't know.

"Are you even old enough?" I asked. I meant it in a questioning manner, but it probably sounded a little reproachful. The boy turned for a split second to grab my skateboard and my backpack, swiftly picking up the empty bottle of milk as he stood up again. It was a smooth motion, one would probably never be able to copy without falling.

"Yes, I'm old enough to drink," the boy countered, his apologetic tone catching on to my unintentional rebuking one and turning slightly annoyed, "but that's not what I meant. Coffee?" He handed me my board and backpack.

Sighing, I checked my watch and my phone. The boy was cute enough, and he wasn't too busy. He ruffled his head full of curly hair that resembles a lions mane as he awaited an answer. I would go, but I don't know this kid like that and I'm soaked in milk which I can only hope is fat free. Under any circumstances I would say yes, but as of now in this predicament, it's a no.

"I would say yes, but I'm soaked in milk and I really need to get home." I told and he cracked a sly smile.

He nods tucking his plumps lips in between his teeth. "I understand. But who's to say we meet under different circumstances? Would you say yes then?" He questioned.

"Maybe." I shrugged, placing my board on the ground.

The boy smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well I'll let you go, I guess. I'm Micah by the way."


"Wynter," I replied.


"Hopefully we meet again under different circumstances." Micah stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. I nod, positioning myself on my skateboard underneath. "Same. See ya later Micah." I waved, skating past him.

••••
Excuse any mistakes or errors

Baby DaddyWhere stories live. Discover now