It was funny that one syllable held so much meaning. One syllable meant something different for Krystal. This syllable meant someone new. That not all believed in the curse.
The stupid fucking curse.
“Hi,” Krystal replied, her face completely dumbfounded, eyes wide. She turned away, looking back at the scrimmage. Antoine’s eyes followed.
“Are you a soccer fan?”
“Not really,” Krystal replied, shifting awkwardly. Antoine chuckled.
“Then why are you standing here watching it?”
Krystal thought for a moment if maybe he should remind this boy of the consequence of talking to her. But she held back her tongue. He turned to her.
“I’m Antoine,” he stated, and Krystal replied with, “I know.” She turned towards him.
“I’m-”
“Krystal. I know,” her cut her off, before putting his hand out for her to shake.
She did.
YOU ARE READING
Untouchable (Original Story)
Teen FictionKrystal Briseno was one of those untouchable girls that boys were told to steer clear from. It wasn't because of a scandalous past of broken hearts and freaky nights. Nothing to do with a scary big brother, a scary father, or a certain amount of "cl...
