❝Why do you have a tongue piercing?❞ I asked, observing the other piercings he had and the designs inked on his skin. I'd never seen so much work done on one person before. ❝What's the purpose?❞
A playful grin quirked on to his lips, cha...
Thank you so much to INNOCENT9146 for the awesome new cover for this book :)
Be sure to read the author's note at the end. I add author's notes to help clarify 90s slang or explain any important events in history you might not be aware of. If you skip it, then it'll only result in you being confusing. I do my best to not make things confusing.
Also, I'm not spelling the street Normandie Ave wrong in this chapter. That's how they spell the street in L.A. It's not Normandy. Just thought I should clarify that because I know it's a real place in France.
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Sophia's P.O.V.
I woke up bright and early for my philosophy class that following morning. My hair still smelled like it was coated in dirt, all thanks to the lovely Reina Annenberg.
I let out a long yawn as I went to take another round of showers to remove this gunk out of my hair. The bright side to this was that I wasn't dead (yet). Reina made it clearer than ever that she didn't want me anywhere near her brother.
Rubbing the soap into my stiff joints, I shut my eyes and let the warm water and quiet atmosphere temporarily excuse me from the nightmare I was currently living in. I had gotten up around five am, knowing no one else would be occupying the co-ed bathrooms. And on most days, no one did at this hour.
Except for today.
I had only started to lather shampoo into my hair when I heard the giggling echo through the bathroom. Focusing on the shower head, I blocked out the two intertwined voices, laughing softly to each other.
"Keep doing that, yeah right there," a guy pants.
Instantly, the laughing turned into full-on moans.
They started off quiet and almost unnoticeable.
But gradually, they got
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I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from screaming out: "Someone's in here." They had to know I was in here. It wasn't like you could silently take a shower. The water that shot out of the shower head was loud, hitting against the plastic shower curtain and the green tiled floors.
They knew I was here, but they didn't care.
I finished up my shower in record speed, moving quick as I put conditioner in my hair and rinsed it out. Once all of the soap and hair products were properly washed off, I shut off the water, dried myself, and scurried out of the bathroom with my head down. My hand hovered over the doorknob when I heard the girl mutter the guy's name.
Bryce.
I shook my head and pushed the door open, acting as if I hadn't heard anything at all.
