e d i t i n g | • »»» • extended summary inside • «««
BOOK TWO IS ALSO IN THIS BUT IT IS DISCONTINUED!
Alexis Cassidy Baxter. Commonly known as Alex. Football; comfort; determined.
Jayden Bryce. Commonly known as Jay. Soccer; "bad boy" (not really...
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls." ✨
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"Alexis, who are you riding with?" Chase asked me and I shrugged, hauling my gym bag out of the stupid locker.
The halls were more or less empty, and you could hear Ethan and Austin's stupid hoots resound throughout the hall.
Slamming the locker shut, because I learned it doesn't close if I do it nicely, I dropped my bag on the floor and took my hair out of it's ponytail. Then, I bended down, throwing my hair in front of me as I re-made my ponytail.
Yes, it's a long process. Everything's a long process when you're a girl.
"She's riding with me." A voice elaborated and I slowly stood up, straightening my back. If I didn't know better, that voice belonged to Jayden.
"With you? Are you sure?" Not faxing him directly, I asked him, taking of my jean jacket and rolling it up to stuff it inside my gym bag - assuming it was pretty warm and clear outside.
"Yeah. Now, you coming or not?" He asked, then whistling as he began walking in the opposite direction. His keys were spinning on his index finger, and everything about him screamed "bad-boy", yet, he didn't seem entirely of that. Sure, he was unruly at times, but bad boy?
I don't think so.
But, if I were to be completely honest, how does someone look so attractive without even trying? Too bad his personality degraded my interest.
I grabbed my bag and waved Chase goodbye as I slightly jogged to catch up with the idiot. My hair was basically fanning left and right as I slowly began turning my jog into a walk as he got near his motorbike.
It was a blue Harley which was accentuated with hints of gold- which basically made the bike look stunning.
Why do I know how a Harley looks? Because I love motorbikes, okay? I've been on one before - many times - and the thrill they give, the adrenaline that coursing through you - it's exceptionally sensational.
I use to ride one of my old friend's one back in England to work and stuff. He had a Triumph Bonneville T100 in a cool jet black shade. So yeah, I can ride a motorbike. And yes, I have taken my CBT.
But seriously, the Harley in front of me was such a beauty. I stared at in in awe, and I guess he saw, because he cleared his throat as my eyes went to his face.
He looked at it and smiled small. "This was my gift from my mom years ago. She had saved up and gave it it to me before she died. I felt like she knew, you know? That she was going to go. But she gave me the bike and told me not to ride it until I was about 15. And of course I listened. But now, when I need the money, I can't sell her, you know?"
"Yeah." My voice was hoarse as memories were coming back. "It's too painful to relive memories, but it's even more painful to let them go."
It's painful to remember snap shots of my memories about my dad. But for the life of me I would never want to forget how he was. Who he was. Despite him not actually being here, I still looked up to him. I wouldn't trade what I have left of him for anything.
