Anastasiya Greyson is back in her stuck up hometown for her senior year after the death of her mom. she already left once and she can't afford to get close to people just for her leave again. but would a friendship with her childhood love be worth t...
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August Matthews Friday, September 3rd
This week has practically flown by, I've been spending time with Anastasiya after school and we've both caught up on pretty much everything that happened on both sides while we were away and everything we like now.
I've learned that her favorite singer is still Taylor Swift, her favorite band is no longer One Direction and is some band called The Pacifics. I listened to some of their music and it's like all about sex. She loves reading and that too is pretty much all about sex.
But I think my least favorite thing that I found out about was her ex-boyfriend. He had been cheating on her throughout the whole relationship because she wouldn't have sex with him and then dumped her after he found out about her mom because he said he couldn't deal with an 'emotionally damaged chick.'
Fucking prick.
But now it's Friday and a whole weekend of partying and getting shitfaced is ahead of me.
I pull back my dark blue covers and groan at the sound of my snoozed alarm. Realizing I'm gonna be late to pick up Stas if I snooze it one more time I quickly brush my teeth and pull on my stuffy school uniform of navy blue slacks, a white collared long sleeve shirt, along with a matching navy blue tie and blazer and my new Prada loafers.
Spraying some of my cologne and running my hands through my hair I check myself out in the mirror before grabbing my backpack and my keys, heading out the door to my truck.
The gate of the Greyson's estate opens with a screech as I wave to Danny and pull up to the front of the wrap-around porch and honk my horn a few times. Seconds later she's closing the huge front door behind her, her messenger bag on one shoulder and a cinnamon bun in each hand.
The Greyson's chef, Antonio, makes the best cinnamon buns on the planet, my mouth is practically watering at the thought of them.
The passenger door opens and a bag is thrown into my newly sanitized backseat, "let's go we don't wanna be late!" She says slightly muffled as she bites into one of the cinnamon buns.
