·.★·.·'¯'·.· ★·.·'¯'·.·★.·
𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 moves to England with her mother and starts at Winwood Academy where she gets a hit to the face by a certain British boy's rugby ball.
#1 in highschoolromance
#3 in rugby
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NOTE: descriptions of sex?? (literally just a smutty book being read) SUNDAY
"Well shit." I try again, to no avail. "I'm gonna have to call AA, I'm so sorry. Did you have a curfew?"
"I was supposed to be home for seven, but I can just let my mom know I might be late." Madeline says and pulls her phone out her pocket. "Scratch that, my phones dead."
"Here, use mine." I hand her my phone, she looks at me to put the password in. "712834"
"You just tell anyone your password?" She asks, putting it.
"Well," No, I didn't, Logan was the only one who knew my phone password. "No but I trust you." I shrug.
She dials a number, leaves a voicemail when no one picks up and hands the phone back to me. I call AA, they inform me they'll be at least an hour.
"It's going to be a while." I sigh. If I'm being honest, nothing about this is bad for me because the girl next to me was the only girl I want to be in this situation with, because I get more time with her. But, I'm not great on picking up on signs so I'm not sure if she wants to be stuck here with me or not.
A small growl of her stomach snaps me out of my thoughts. "Hungry?" I smile, nodding to the takeaway across the street.
Her cheeks flush and she nods, "A little."
"Let's go."
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"It's not that bad, okay!" I squeal, trying to reach for the book in Quinn's hand.
"You're telling me there's worse?" He asks, bewildered look on his face that makes me laugh. "'He kisses lower, reaching the hem of her-"
I cut him off by launching for the book again, but he stretches his arm out of reach and continues, his eyes continue to slowly scan the words on the page with furrowed brows. He raises one. "His tongue swirled around her.."
We're both cackling at this point, to the extent of me about to wet myself, "Okay, okay, stop!" I laugh, managing to clamber over the empty takeaway boxes and his leg to reach the book.
He relents and hands me the book, "You actually read this?"
"I like what I like, don't judge me." I grumble, muffling another laugh.
He shakes his head, "I'm not judging, I swear. I'm just surprised."
I chuckle, shoving the book back in the bag at my feet.
"What'd you like about it? Reading?" He asks, a genuine question. "I've never understood it, although that's a bit biased because I can't read more than a paragraph for the life of me."
I settle back down, tucking up my legs. "It's like when I read, nothing else matters. No one, nothing. It's just me in the fictional world and I've found comfort in books since I was a child." He looks at me curiously, head tilted and listening to everything I say. "Sorry, that sounds weird."
"It doesn't." He says, he doesn't laugh or make fun of it as I expected him to. "I think I feel the same way with rugby. Without all the fictional stuff though."
"That reminds me, did you talk to that scout last week?" I ask.
"Yeah, I did actually." He nods, looking both nervous and happy. "She offered me a spot at Glasgow university with a scholarship."
"Really? That's amazing!" I smile, "Are you going?"
He nods, "I accepted it on Friday."
"When do you start?"
"Next fall after I finish up this year." He replies. "I'm nervous."
"You'll be great. I know it." I reassure him, believing it too.
"I hope so." He sighs, relaxing back into the chair and glancing at me, eyes twinkling.
My heart beats out of my chest when I look back at him. I can't tell if I like this feeling or not.
"I'm glad I didn't scare you off with my rugby ball." He says.
I laugh softly, "You deformed my nose though."
He winces and laughs. I realise how close we've moved to each other now in the small perimeter of his car, and I think he noticed too when his eyes flick down to my lips.
Just when I'm convinced he's going to kiss me, lights flash at the back of the car where an AA can parks in the space behind us.
"Hang on." He climbs out of the car and I hear him explain the situation to the men while I internally die.
We start driving back home at quarter to eight after they manage to jumpstart the car. I keep my gaze fixated out the window while the awkwardness lingers in the car and 'Kiss me' by Sixpence None The Richer plays on the radio, doubling the discomfort.
