Chapter 3-Something About the Sunshne

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3rd Person's POV

        It was quiet in the neighborhood. That was until:

        "Summer! Get your ass down here!" Through the door of the house that belonged to the Silvers, ran out the door. In front was a black ferari.

        "Hey Phil," says Autumn.

        "Hi," says Summer.

        "Hello girls," responds the driver, Phil, 'You ready for San Fran?"

        "Sexy boys, here I come!" screamed Summer before the car drove away.

        "Soo, I think I can notice that someone is looking for the boys," says Phil wiggling his eyebrows.

        "Yes, yes I am," replies Summer. Autumn's trying hard not to laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(2 Hours Later:Still in the plane)

        Steve's POV

"How many more hours do we have to stay in this fucking plane," says Summer punching the chair.

        "we still have 3 more hours," responds Romanoff.

        "Autumn?" asks Summer.

        Autumn doesn't respond. She's reading a book while humming a song. Her hair frames her face perfectly. How do I know if I'm in love?

        "AUTUMN!" screams Romanoof. No respons.

        "AUTUMN JESSICA SILVER!" screams Hawkeye. I notice something shimmer in her ear.

        "allow me," I say. I walk up to Autumn's seat. I take the earbud out of her ear.

        "Autumn." I say calmly.

        "Yeah?" she asks. All the others looked at me, mouths wide open.

        "Why didn't you answer me?" asks Summer. Autumn lifts up her earbud, "I was listening to music."

        "Are you trying to find the way to put that song you've been working on for ages in an acoustic version?"

        "You play guitar?" asks Romanoff.

        "Yes, yes I do Nat." responds Autumn.

        "Autumn, you realise that you'll have to play for them?"responds Summer.

        "I will," responds Atumn, with a smile on her face. This girl sure is something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(After they land) Autumn's POV

        After a long airplane ride, we finally arrived in San Francisco, but something was wrong. Summer was smiling. Summer smiles, but she usually does so only with a reason: a)me being tortured or b)something embarassing happened to me.

        "Summer," I ask," Are you alright?"

        "Never felt better," is her responds.

        "That's weird," I say.

        "I think there's something about the sunshine."

        "That explains," I res[pnd.

        "I know that, I have to say something," she says.

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