Chapter 3
"No, no, don't write it like that," Roy leans over me, backspacing my sentence. "That sounds too childish."
I roll my eyes. "You think everything I write is too childish. You keep forgetting I'm not a college professor, Roy, I don't write like one."
He lets out an exasperated sigh, pulling away from the keyboard and looking down at me. "Clearly. But, I'm trying to help you get to that level. Mrs. Wheeler will be incredibly impressed with your paper if you only wrote a little more professionally!"
"I'm not good with words," I say. "This paper and you are going to be the death of me."
"I'm only trying to help," he gestures towards the computer, which now contains only one body paragraph. "You haven't even written an introduction."
"It's still not due for a week," I say with an eye roll. "Besides, how am I supposed to introduce a paper I haven't even written yet?"
"Okay, okay, you two," Foster interrupts from behind us. "Let's take a break from homework."
"You haven't even touched your paper yet, Foster," Roy states, arms crossed. Roy and Foster came over today so we could work on homework together, as it seems we do better when we work together, yet somehow Roy ended up writing my paper for me with Foster on the couch playing on his phone, his homework sitting in his lap untouched.
"I think he's right, though," I say before they start arguing. "I need a break from getting yelled at."
"I wasn't yelling," Roy defends. After a pause, he sighs. "We could use a break, though. Well, maybe not you, Foster."
"Hey, in my defense, I got to level fifteen in this game. That's a lot of work." He holds up his phone proudly, a smirk on his face. Roy shakes his head and I throw my papers into my bag, tossing it aside.
"Let's get coffee," I say, making my way towards the door. Roy follows me and Foster slowly slides his homework off his lap.
"Guys, wait up!" he yells after us.
*
"Ah, nothing's better than a good hot cup of joe," Roy says, taking another sip from his drink as we walk through the park.
"I have to disagree," Foster says. "There are a lot of things that are better than a hot cup of joe, such as hot chocolate. And girls."
"In Roy's case, it's books ," I joke. Roy rolls his eyes, not paying attention to where he's stepping. His foot lands on the edge of a skateboard abandoned in the grass, and his body launches forward. Instinctively, I reach for him, but I'm a moment too late. He falls onto his hands in the grass, groaning. Foster starts laughing loudly and Roy looks up at him, glaring, his glasses hanging on for dear life at the edge of his nose. I can't help but snicker at his disheveled look.
"Told you we should've gone somewhere else," Roy says, standing up and brushing himself off. "I knew this would happen."
I can't disagree with him, seeing as Roy has always been such a klutz. Back in 9th grade, we were hanging out at this park and Roy tripped over his own feet, falling face first into cement, resulting in a broken nose. His nose is crooked now, which gives him a tough look. Foster even spread the rumor that Roy got into a fight, which Roy denied to everyone, but I'm pretty sure some of our classmates still believe it.
"That was smooth," Foster says, smirking at Roy, who elbows him in return.
Roy rolls his eyes. "If it was in your path instead of mine, you would have tripped, too."
YOU ARE READING
To Save Her
Teen Fiction*Tw// suicide, gore, blood Tony's waiting for the bus when he sees a girl in his class committing suicide. He's not sure if it was a dream or maybe a vision...? Questions are running through his head of what he should do. Should he talk to her? Leav...
