Three Months To Prove You Wrong

Chapter One

•Skye's POV•
'When will the bell ring? When the hell will it ring?' was all I could think about. It was the last day of junior year of high school. I was going to be a senior after summer. Scary. Then after that, I'll be in college. I already started looking at some universities in California. But anyway, back to the point. Fifteen more seconds left, now fourteen, thirteen, we're so close. Everyone around me was anxious to run out the door. Our focus was all on the clock, we didn't care what our history teacher was talking about, we were dazed out. Only a few seconds left now, three, two, one. Once the bell rang, everyone started screaming hysterically. I was trying to get out the door, but my 5'0 self got trampled by wild juniors. And on top of that, my books went airborne and fell everywhere.
"Wonderful," I exclaimed sarcastically. I picked them up, and focused on getting out of that hellhole I called school. Finally, three months of lazy days and bikinis and parties.
I met up with my best friends, Mikayla and Kendall.
"Skye!" they both yelled through the hallway.
"Guys!" I yelled back.
"Yes, finally! Summer break!" Kendall exclaimed.
"Ugh, I know," Mikayla replied.
"Hey, that one guy Michael is having a school's out party, do you guys wanna go?" Mikayla asked us.
"Yeah, sure! Let's go as a group." I suggested.
"Heh, of course, we never go to parties without each other!" Kendall exclaimed.
"Yeah, but come on, I don't want to spend another second in this prison."
"Yeah, let's go." Mikayla said, grabbing us both and walking towards the exit.

•Braxton's POV•
Finally, the last day of school. I walked with my best bud Michael, talking about his party. I overheard three girls talking about how they were going, so I guess a lot of people are gonna be there. Michael and I walked to the buses.
"So, see you at the party?" Michael asked me, as he got on his bus.
"Yup, see you there." I was actually pretty excited for the party, and I usually HATE parties. I'm usually busy playing guitar or writing songs, I never have time for them. Plus, I'm not into drugs. Having an alcoholic drink, okay that's fine, but I don't want to seriously fuck up my life with crack or anything. I stepped onto the bus, looking at my high school behind my back.
"One more year," I said to myself. "Just one more year, then this shit will be all over."