♡A-A-A-A-A-And they call you Baby Blue, 'cause it's your favorite colour♡
After being expelled, Tyler is sent to a boarding school for 'troubled youths' where a certain teacher catches his eye. But life at Rose Wood Towers is not simple.
Tyler's los...
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Tyler's Pov:
"This is going to be a real laugh tomorrow morning," I smirked with a chuckle as I stood back and admired my art piece spray painted across the brick wall side of the school.
The dim light from the lamppost was shining on the wall featuring the massive pink dick. It was dark outside, almost midnight.
The weather was chilly as well even though the winds were still. Since the night sky above displayed not a single cloud, leaving the stars vulnerable, the heat escaped and discarded cold temperatures. That's only expected- December was nearing. I liked the cold, it sheltered me acting like a barrier against heat. It's always been like that, as long as I could remember.
I looked down and frowned noticing pink splodges of paint splattered across my black ripped jeans.
"Awe, these were expensive!" I gestured to them. Too expensive for what they appeared. But fuck it.
Patrick rolled his eyes. Pile the blame on me, okay then. "Well you are a messy painter, so I'm not suprised."
"Shut up pattycakes," I seethed glaring at the amused boy's expression. It was the paint's fault- not mine. I was an excellent spray painter -I'd count myself a professional the amount of times I'd vandalized buildings- but this pink can, it was rigged, surely. I'd sue the shop, selling me junk, those fuckers. They cared about profit, not quality. I needed decent spray paint but other art shops were priced too high. Not my fault at all. "I paid a lot for these!"
"With money that you stole," Pete snorted. Yes, stolen cash, but that was irrelevant. Plus, it was the old ladies fault for leaving it out on the café counter. She should've known a young, troublesome boy like myself would nick it.
Naive fool.
"And it's your fault you keep making such expensive mistakes," Patrick shrugged.
"But these are nice though," I objected. They were really- or as nice as black jeans could be.
"I guess so." Patrick nodded.
"However, you look so emo," Joe noted, blue eyes running up and down my frame. "Black jeans, black sweat-shirt, black shoes..."
"I like black." I simply stated.
"When will you ever stop wearing it though?"
"I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour," I responded sarcastically causing the rest to snicker.
"You know what colour you would look nice in?" Pete commented leaning back onto the lamppost with his arms crossed. I raised an eyebrow intrigued with where he was heading with this. "Baby Blue. Especially with your golden tanned skin, it'd look cute."
