𝙈𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙆𝙄𝘿𝙎━━━ 𝘖𝘉𝘟!

𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘦

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𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦(𝗦);
❝𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥?❞

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word count; 1734

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It was that time of year again. Cramming in hours upon hours of studying to pass some stupid test that our teachers claim to be "very important". Nothing like shoving a bunch of exams on us to announce the end of summer.

Pope, one of my best friends in the whole wide world, and a practical academic child prodigy happened to be having his own study party for me to crash. Not that he was aware of the second part.

Mr. Heyward, Pope's father, greeted me with the usual warm smile. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I'm pretty sure I'm his favorite.

With a towel that was once white, now stained with oil, grease, and grime, he turned from his lawnmower and wiped away the residue on his fingers, "Morning little lady."

"Morning Mr. Hayward!" I called cheerily, hugging my books closer to me with one hand so I could wave with the other.

"Your Dad send you?" He asked, referring to the several incidents before where my father had sent me to run his errands.

"Can't a girl just come to visit her favorite Hayward?"

The older man rubbed at the graying facial hair coating his chin and coughed a low chuckle, "Popes in his room then."

I beamed at him, opening the banged-up screen door with a creak, "Thanks, Mr. Hayward!"

Usually, on a hot and humid Friday like today, we would be at the beach; catching a couple of waves, drinking some beer, eating popsicles, anything we could do to cool down. However, we had all fallen busy. Kie was working for her parents, the heat bringing in all kinds of customers that didn't want to heat their own homes anymore by cooking, John B was delivering groceries around the island, and JJ was finishing some repairs a kook wanted done to their vehicle. With no plans of my own, and Pope denying my offer to get ice cream together due to his need to study for an upcoming quiz, I decided to join him.

He didn't even really need to study, Pope is the kind of person to get an A on everything without even trying. Things that the rest of us have to study hours upon hours for, just to scrape by with a passing grade, Pope could ace with ease.

Not that he pays any mind to that, whenever he's not hanging with our friends or working for his dad, he locks himself in his room with his textbooks and his computer.

I knocked a few times, he was a teenage boy and I had no clue what I was walking into, I didn't want possessed note pages to come flying at me, or an army of little robots to attack.

An annoyed groan sounded through the door, and heavy footsteps lead up to it, "Dad, how many times have I told you- oh." He dropped the sass when he realized I was in fact, not Mr. Hayward, "What are you doing here?"

Rolling my eyes I pushed him aside and welcomed myself into his freakishly neat room, "I came to study. Don't get too excited."

Pope hurried over and scooped up some of his notes before I could sit on them and placed them in a neat stack on his desk.