The Life of Bailey Walter- ON HOLD

Prologue

Prologue.

I stared into his eyes as he spoke, trying to concentrate on the words that came from his mouth trap instead of the cigarette that he refused to put out.

The two of us, as in we, are currently standing near the back entrance of the school as we waited the ten minutes for his mother to pick us up. You see, due to my car not starting this morning, I came to school with Ashton on his motorbike, but there's one tiny problem with that. The Ashton Summer's "misplaced" the keys to his most prized possession; his motorbike, of course.

Yeah, you heard me. Ashton Summer's. The one and only.

If we were to be completely honest here, I'd say he's up to something. Because guys looking like, well, like that, are never up to any good. Trust me, my older brother Nathaniel- or Nate for short- use to be the badass of town, and then he grew up. He's 20 by the way; his birthday was two months ago, on June the 2nd. And because it's August, I turn 18 in two days; two more days bitches! And then I'm legally an adult! Freedom!

It's the 8th today, the 8th of August. And my birthday is on the 11th, so I actually have two and a half days. No, stuff being accurate. Two days bitches!

Anyways, let's get back to reality here, shall we?

Have I mentioned how much I despise cigarettes? Well, ever since my grandfather died, I couldn't have any more of a growing hatred towards the cancer sticks. I think I actually fainted once... yeah, yeah I did. You see, there was this guy at a tattoo shop and he and his girlfriend were smoking, and I couldn't leave because I was getting a tattoo and it was the only time I could sneak away from my parents, and so i sat in there and inhaled it for an hour. After getting my tattoo, I came out to find they were smoking yet again, so I tried to run for it- you know, to get some fresh air like a normal person would- and I tripped on the rug. You need not be told the rest.

Oh look at that! I tend to do this thing where I babble about things that really don't matter, oh, like that time when my teacher asked everyone how their weekend went, and I continued to rant about how the server guy in MacDonald’s spilled my drink all over me and then refused to clean it up. I mean, yeah, I was being rude when I told him to hurry his ass up but that doesn't mean that he has the right to just... I’m doing it again, aren’t I?

Well, let’s get back to it peeps!

I nodded innocently as Ashton continued his speech about his assumptions that Jared Kingsley stole his keys as well as some of his money. Jared Kingsley is a dumb ass, and I’m not saying that to be rude- like I usually would be- I’m just telling you that he has trouble assimilating information.

I suddenly had an obscure urge to scream at Ashton, and I noticed that he was facing me, blowing the smoke from his cigarette in my face. May I just point out that having someone breathing smoke in your face really pisses you off? Yeah?

Maybe if I get whipped cream from the staff room and spray it in his face, he’ll understand not to smoke around me, or you know, not at all. It will only take five minutes to get the whipped cream and get back before he notices. He’s too entranced with his own voice anyways.