amelia dixon is a freshman in college﹔ she always knew she was smart, so when the new history teacher gives her a D+ in her strongest subject, she doesn't react kindly. watch how the back & forth pushes them both down the rabbit hole.
this story wil...
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STANFORD CAMPUS, 11:00 pm.
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〝Amelia, please. Just get in, it's pouring.〞Brooks plead, hand tirelessly motioning her over. Rain was splattered about her face and it relentlessly continued to add to the collection. Her socks were practically glued to her feet with rainfall and her cheer uniform was soaked. She was seduced by defeat as she examined her current state.
〝God damn it,〞she muttered, barely audible under the silencing cloak of her breath. 〝Fine,〞she sighed exasperatedly, 〝I guess you can take me home, Brooks.〞
A ch—click! sound came from the passenger door as he unlocked it. Amelia drug her drenched feet across the pavement with no speedy intentions. The longer she could put it off, she would. Well, if it wasn't raining, she would.
〝Amelia. Please.〞His head dipped to the side as he exposed his tiresome, almost making her sympathetic for giving him such a hard time. She put her guard down, readjusted her bag over her shoulder, and sunk down into his passenger seat. The scent of linens traveled in his air conditioning unit and the leather interior smelled lavish. It was a fucking BMW—something she was used to, which is what caught her off guard. Nobody here felt like her. The controls felt exactly the same, the aroma was full of expense. It was traditional Dixon characteristics. Brooks must've came from a wealthy family, or made bank from years teaching.
She tucked her bag between her legs and slouched into the chair. She reclined it back numerous times in an attempt to aggravate him with the repeated noise. He knew exactly what she was doing. Brooks merely sat behind the wheel and exhaled a large breath he'd stored up over trying to keep calm. Amelia stopped her antics on her own, getting bored of that one in particular. She inclined and extended a hand forward, her fingertips reaching for the volume button. The cheerleader began twisting the volume knob upwards, leering at Brooks as the music gradually increased.
〝Would you quit that? Keep it low,〞Brooks finally spoke up, stretching his arm across the car to remove her hand from the button.
〝You're right,〞Amelia declared,〝the music sucked.〞She leaned forward once more and turned the dial completely down. 〝I have a better idea,〞the girl began, chin tilted to the side in the slightest degree.
