One inexperienced introverted girl, an appealing rich daredevil, one domineering sultry blonde, a bully, the psychopath and the gregarious best friend.
Tiger Gething's story starts here.
Desperately trying to get the attention of the boy she's infa...
"All sorts of yayness floods my brain. Love is such a drug." -John Green
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
°•°
Being in control of things is what I aim for. Whenever I see something or a situation of any sort spiraling out of control, it has a domino effect on me. I begin to panic, or maybe that's an overstatement. It gets very uncomfortable for me.
That is exactly what happened during my voluntary service at Camp Musique. I was never the one to be the boss of anything at all. So, being the only one there, I was instructed to show Harry the ropes and what was expected of him. That was way out of my comfort zone. I could barely speak to the guy.
I somehow managed to explain his duties and mine as well, just for clarity, so he didn't think that I was throwing all the work on him. He was no use here anyway. I was used to doing all the work, and I had no problem with it.
"You don't talk much, do you?" He surprised me by asking. It was lunch break, and I was sitting by myself on the swings with half my sandwich in my lap and the other in my hand. I was practically zoned out, looking anywhere but where I was. It was like I was looking at the ground, but I was not.
My eyes quickly drifted to where he was, standing directly in front of me with an amused demeanor.
I was just about to respond, forgetting that I had a piece of my tuna sandwich in my mouth. The piece immediately went to the back of my throat involuntarily, and the next thing I knew, I had lost the ability to breathe.
I jumped up, coughing, trying to get it out, but it did not budge. My life played before my eyes. This was it, and what do I have to show for it? I will be remembered as nothing more than an outcast.
"Hey, are you choking on something?" Harry questioned, panic laced in his words. I mean, doesn't it look like I'm choking?
Before I could do something to answer him and beg him to get someone to help me, he was standing behind me, his arms wrapped around me, under my diaphragm. He squeezed it in, my behind pressing against his crotch as he did.
After three more tries, the small piece of bread went flying out of my mouth. My heart was beating rapidly because of my near-death experience and partly because Harry was still holding me against his body.
He removed his hands, and I silently cursed. "Are you okay?" His voice was laced with concern. I gave him a nod, trying to steady my breathing pattern.
"Here, take a seat." He led me to the benches on the side. I did as told, and he sat beside me as well. I could feel his gaze on me. I needed to say something. So I figured I should say thanks, seeing that he saved my life.
"Thank you." I muttered to him, hoping that he heard. Wait, my sandwich. Looking around, I saw it on the ground, covered with dirt. Anger went through my body because I was still hungry.
