After flying overseas to enroll in a prestigious boarding school, Blake Graham assumes that she can finally catch a break.
Instead, she encounters the boy who she fought with almost every day as a child.
After moving back to England, then over to...
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Clark and I stayed at the coffee shop for an hour longer. We passed time with idle chatter, sometimes reminiscing about the past.
At two in the afternoon, I got a text from Luca. "Hey, Luca says to meet us on set." I looked back to the screen of my phone.
A deep sigh sounded from Clark, "Do we have to?"
"Moral support Clarkwell." I reprimanded, to which he returned with a lazy middle finger. "Let's go, I have the address."
Clark slowly rose up, stretching to his full height. Jesus, he was really tall. Once upon a time I was taller than him, but now I stood at five foot seven, while Clark towered at six four.
As I inserted the address onto my phone, I noticed it was a good walking distance. Like fifteen minutes.
"Hey, we're walking." I ordered to Ellington.
He scoffed, "Clark Ellington doesn't walk places."
I rolled my eyes at him, and began to follow the virtual directions. "Well, Blake Graham walks, so suck it up."
"Shove off." He groaned, begrudgingly following me.
We walked in relative silence for a couple of minutes until I decided to break it.
"So, you've guest starred in some of Kota's shoots?" I recalled back to the time we were in Paris and I saw the poster.
Clark shrugged slightly, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. He looked all cool and collected with his designer shades and straight posture. "I mean once or twice yeah, that stupid article labelling me as 'number two' made Calvin call me up with Kota. They wanted two fresh faces, so they thought we were perfect. What I don't get is how I got second place." He grumbled the last part.
"Well, number one isn't all that great also." I sighed deeply, pushing my sunglasses closer to my eyes.
"In third grade you thought he was all that."
"So? Not anymore."
"How did Parker fucking Ambrose beat me? I have a fucking British accent." Clark scowled. There, the cat's outta the bag. My ex was in the number one spot, beating Clark.
"Well, if it makes you feel better he got a really bad haircut like three months ago. That will probably make him go down a spot, and you up one. Well... that's unless Nico doesn't steal your spot. I mean, dimples and a British accent?" I teased him.
Clark looked incredulously at me, "Don't you dare try getting with my friends! I can't let you ruin any of them, especially Nico!"
I laughed loudly at his demand. It was cute how protective he was with his friends. Unlike a lot of guys, Clark and the boys had a real friendship.
