𝑹𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒇*𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆
•-☀︎-⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆- ☀︎-•
Oakley had a tendency to be bitch to the students of West Valley...That didn't seem to matter to a perky new boy
Miguel Diaz x OC
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"𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑲𝑰𝑫" Drew greeted as Oakley trudged through the front door, her bag slung over one shoulder.
"Hey, Drew," Oakley mumbled, kicking off her sneakers by the door and dragging herself into the living room.
"How was karate?" Drew asked, trailing after her and leaning against the arm of the couch.
Oakley flopped down dramatically, her head falling back against the cushions. "Tiring. And weirdly educational."
Drew tilted his head. "Educational? You learn a new move or something?"
Oakley smirked faintly. "Not exactly. More like a story. About you."
Drew's eyebrows shot up. "Oh yeah? What kind of story?"
She sat up slightly, enjoying the moment. "Something about you punching a hole through your dojo's sink."
Drew froze, his eyes widening as he choked on air. "Who told you about that?"
"Sensei Lawrence," Oakley replied, her tone light but teasing. "Didn't think you had it in you to be the violent type."
Drew rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "That was a long time ago."
Oakley grinned, clearly amused. "Still, it's kind of impressive. Never thought the guy who wears cardigans and lectures me about being 'respectful' could Hulk out like that."
Drew groaned, shaking his head. "I was a dumb teenager. Look, the trick is—wait, no. Why am I explaining this?" He pointed a finger at her. "Just don't get mad enough to go around breaking things, alright?"
Oakley shrugged, sinking deeper into the couch. "I'm a fifteen-year-old girl. My rage quota is pretty low these days. Everyone who usually pisses me off is miles away."
Drew raised an eyebrow. "You're only fifteen for another week."
Oakley rolled her eyes. "Oh, right. Because the second I turn sixteen, I'm going to become a raging ball of fury. That how it works?"
"It worked for me," Drew quipped with a shrug.
Oakley snorted. "Yeah, well, you were sixteen in the eighties. Makes sense."
