Love, Kayla

[ 2 ] : "What do you think you're doing!"

C H A P T E R  T W O

The following day..

It was a hot, scorching weekend for Brenton as he sat on a leather chair facing his oak study table. Before him was the untouched paper of his math homework. He had been staring at the same ten questions for the past hour as his mind was unable to function and think of a single solution to the problem.

He fiddled with his pen as he tapped the cap of it on his temples. He rested his elbow as his palms supported the weight of his head. His foot made rhythm with the wooden floor as he stared at the empty paperwork with helplessness.

He frustratingly raked one hand through his jet black hair as the insides of him felt empty and shallow. How was he supposed to graduate at this manner? He thought. With his uncontrollable anger, raging fists, his ever foul mouth, and empty brain it was definitely hindering him from getting on stage.

Get a fucking grip, Abrams! You only have three chances left.

He gripped both of his temples as he tried to massage the initiating throb forming on his head. He needed to relieve the stress that was forming.

So he slipped on a v-neck shirt and some loose jeans. He put on his black sneakers as he head out to where his feet was dragging him. As the welcoming blazing sun hits his face and the thick dense atmosphere that kissed upon his skin, it was inevitable that sweat would flood his whole being in any second.

He gripped hold of his shirt's neckline and used it to fan the forming sweat on his chiseled chest. He continued to drag his eyes around the surroundings as he caught sight of the attracting ice cream shop. To him, he needed one as soon as possible.

So he brought his two legs inside the shop as the cool wind of the air conditioner helped suck away the clinging heat on his skin. He looked around and saw that the place wasn't that crowded. Less people, less noise. He loved it.

He went to the counter to order his desired sweet dairy. Before him was a wide range of different flavors. His eyes scanned as he read some of the flavors but only one piqued his interest which was the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.

"One large bowl of that." He demanded as he pointed at his picked flavor. The young server was displeased with the tone of Brenton's voice. He scooped the ice cream and shoved it to Brenton where the young lad's eyes landed on Brenton's venomous ones. In an instant, his feet turned jello as sweat dripped on his temples despite the cool atmosphere around. His arms fell weak as Brenton took hold of the large bowl. Using his free hand he shoved it under his pocket as he took out cash. Brenton slammed the paper on the counter as he strode his way towards a vacant table.

He pulled the scarlet leather chair as he sat on it comfortably. He slowly started to shove of the sweet dairy to his hot mouth as he took his phone out from the other pocket. He checked for messages or any missed calls but expectantly, there wasn't a single one. He wasn't hoping though. It was always like this. It was supposedly his fault for not having friends because of his fucked up personality. But if ever he receives one, it was usually from his dad who was always away. He gripped on his phone as he lazily shoved it back to its original place.

His eyes darted through the room as he saw people enjoying the cool snack with their friends. His eyes half-dropped as he halted for a moment.