11 - Paint Me Silver

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Hello beautiful readers 🤍
I present to you chapter 11!

Hello beautiful readers 🤍 I present to you chapter 11!

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Devyn's POV

I've never been one to fight...

In other words, I guess you could say conflict has never been my thing. Though- lots of things aren't my thing. For instance, I'm not the kind of person to say anything if someone cuts me in line, or complain if my food order is wrong.

I absolutely despise blue cheese, and I strongly believe that Toy Story should've ended with the third movie. When I was younger I hated sharing my toys, so I never played outside...at least when the other kids in the neighborhood were awake. Quite the loner I was.

But I liked it that way... at least for a while.

That was until she showed up.

Flashback: Sophomore Year of High School

"Devyn you really don't have a choice. You've been assigned as a tour guide so that will be your role. End of discussion."

"That wasn't really much of a discussion Mrs. Lavey," I grumble, sarcasm evident in my tone.

In front of me stood Mrs. Lavey, one our many school counselors who loved nothing more than making her students miserable.

"It never is. Now stand tall and put a big fat wildcat smile on your face! Your group should be meeting you here shortly and I better not hear any complaints about you Stone," she commanded in an overly perky tone.

Without another word, Mrs. Lavey strut off confidently. The sound of her short pumps clacking against the wooden floor boards radiates through the empty school hall leaving distant echoes, as her frail figure disappears out of sight.

'I know a few places she can take that stupid wildcat and shove it up.'

I slump into a nearby bench, still grappling with the unfairness of being roped into giving a tour to a bunch of clueless freshmen. If I could, I'd roll my eyes into the next century.

"Tour guide extraordinaire," I mutter to myself, the sarcasm dripping off each word. "Great."

As I look around the long empty hallway, I brace myself for the inevitable awkwardness that comes with freshman orientation. The door swiftly swings open, and I'm expecting a bunch of overly excited, wide-eyed kids ready to absorb the wisdom of a seasoned sophomore.

But there's just one.

One lone figure standing in the doorway, a girl.

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