CHAPTER ONE
I go to Westmore Ridge High School in Lincoln, Nebraska. Currently I'm a junior so anyone in high school knows what I'm dealing with. Fights, romance, sports, not grades, you know all the good stuff. (If anything, I'd much rather be homeschooled than go to public, but hey, when your an only child and your mom has a long working job, it doesn't really work.)
I honestly think all the high schoolers are just a bunch of animals. Oh, but don't even get me started on the cheerleaders. They are the worst of the worst. They used to be really nice and all, but now that they're "popular" they have to cut the lines and spread rumors all day. And they always break dress code too. But do the teachers care? No! They don't! Those girls will walk in to class with booty shorts and get a nice hello from the teacher, but if I walk in with shorts to about mid-thigh they're all like "GO CHANGE RIGHT NOW YOUNG MISSY!!!" But they aren't the only ones. Volleyball is the same way, just not as bad.
Football though, well that's a whole another story. They aren't really mean, just... Really stupid. For example, there's this one kid in my math class who's a football player who asked me what 12 times 3 is. I was like, Oh My Gosh, I'm not answering that question. Ok, that's not really how it went. I told him the answer, 36, and he put it down and kept working.
Have I mentioned that I'm not a very "girl who speaks her mind" person? Cause I'm not. I used to be though, until, my dad died two years ago. After that, I kinda just went off on my own. My mom got a better paying job, but it requires a really long shift. So usually she's not home when I get there, and if she is, she's asleep.
On those days, which is usually everyday, I get a snack, go upstairs to my room to do my homework, then go on my rooftop and listen to music on my phone. It usually always happens this way, until, today. As I got to the certain spot on the roof where it's flat enough to to lay on, my phone buzzed. I looked to see the message icon appear.
I don't recognize the number, so I open the message and all it says is "hey". I figure I should just call the person, I know most of the people at school anyway so I'd probably recognize the voice. I dial the number and I wait to see if anyone answers.
"Hello?"
The voice is deep, sounds like a guy. But I don't recognize it, the voice.
"Hi! Who is this?" I say.
"I'd think that'd be my question"
"Well you texted me just a min ago, and I don't recognize the number. I just wanna know who you are."
"Name is Blake. You?"
"Christina. How did you get my number?"
"I've always had it."
I start to worry, but then again, maybe he's just messing with me. That's what most people do anyway. Stupid prank calling. I bet that's what this is. Except he texted me, not called me.
"Yeah sure, if your trying to freak me out, it's not working."
"Fine. I got it from a friend."
"Who?"
"Can't say."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Where are you at right now."
"Umm, my house...."
"Can you leave?"
"I guess so, but I still don't even know who you are!"
"I told you, my name is Blake. Meet me at the bridge that goes over the Someer River."
"Wait, I don't even...."
He hung up. I'm debating whether I should go or not. I mean, it could be some kind of kidnapper or something. Well, I'm not doing anything, and life is about taking risks, right? You know, as they always say, YOLO...So I climb down, and head out in the fall wind to meet the mystery "Blake".
YOU ARE READING
Happy Endings
Любовные романыChristina lives a simple life. You know, just go to school, come home, do homework, hang with friends, repeat. Yet, when an old friend meets up with her, and asks her on a date, will her simple life get better, or worse?