A Betting Game

7. This weather is made for reminiscing.

Author's Note:

If you're actually reading this, I would like to give you a formal invite to be my new bae ;)

Enjoy, my smellies.

The weather outside, was without a doubt, shit.

Leaning against the warm steering wheel of my beat up rover, I struggled to look out of the front wind shield. It was literally pissing it down, water falling from the sky in heavy sheets.

The air was dark, which I assumed to be linked with the almost black clouds which loomed overhead, threatening the ground below. From across the car park, the school was illuminated in a golden-white haze; it was like someone had stuck a warning beacon on in the darkness.

In the half an hour journey that it took to drive to the next city and two my school, and I hadn't been able to see the road for the most of it. I had almost killed myself more than once, with cars pulling out of lanes that I couldn't even see.

And to make it all better, some assholes didn't know how to turn on their lights.

Sighing, I pulled the keys from the car, before stepping out into the torrential rain, not so much as blinking as masses of water drenched me. Slamming the door closed, I locked the doors while walking away, stuffing the keys in the front pocket of my bag.

I didn't try to rush to make it to the double doors at the entrance of the school.

Once I got into the building, and the glass panels slid closed behind me, the sound of rain was muffled. I shook my head, scattering droplets of water around the area surrounding me.

"For fuck's sake, Nat Nat!" The voice that spoke up was high pitched and whiny; it reminded me of someone with filed nails dragging them slowly across a black board.

I turned to the set of lockers to my right, to see a slender girl with pale hair leaning against the wall. Her hands were pulled out in front of her body, clenching a black pencil, mouth pulled into a unamused grimace.

"What have I done this time?" I asked the girl in an irritated tone, running a hand through my wet hair and shaking it again.

The girl squealed, scrunching up her nose.

"Stop it!" She demanded, stomping her foot slightly. If I hadn't have known her, that movement would have been almost adorable.

"Shannon," Patting down my hair I hitched my rucksack back onto my shoulders. "So I see you've finally stopped skyving school..."

There was a pause, as she smiled knowingly, lifting one hand to aim the mirror at her face and using the other to run the black pencil across her upper eyelid. She continued to finish the other eye, before placing both the mirror and the pencil into her small handbag.

Looking up at me with now heavily defined brown eyes, Shannon laughed quietly, the noise slightly musical.

Damn, well the girl was definitely hot, I'd give her that.

Too bad she was such a whore bag.

"I always liked you," The statement was simple, and her eyes were lit up with approval as I forced a polite smile onto my face. "And an excellent lover, if I may say,"

You may not, I thought bitterly, knowing that the smile on my face had momentarily dropped, before it re-plastered itself on my lips.

As I said, Shannon was one of the most beautiful girls in the year. She could get any guy to drop at her feet, and she knew it. Almost everyone within the upper classes at the school had spent a night with the girl, and the whereabouts of her vagina was a common topic of discussion during breaks.