Reaching out to people sometimes doesn't work out the way others intend it to. Inez faced the brute force of those consequences when beginning to tackle the wall that was Sebastian.
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Plagued by loneliness since childhood, seventeen-year-old Inez...
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Nice Ass
The very next day, during our last class period, someone none of us knew walked in. She was absolutely gorgeous, and made a lot of the guys start chatting to each other. Some of the girls began giving her looks of distaste, which was shocking. They barely knew her, and yet some were so rude. The girl seemed to noticed, but showed no care at all.
Her style was on the darker side. With a black Tupac T-shirt and a light shade of high waisted mom jeans with Doc Martens. Her milky brown skin seemed to shine, and contained no flaws whatsoever. Soft curls flowed around her head and down to her shoulders, almost like a halo. Thick lips and almond shaped eyes were framed by those exact strands of hair. She smiled, making my heart jump.
"Alright class. I'm sure you guys can guess what's going on. This is our new student. Her name is Jasmine Moore. Treat her well."
"Nice to meet you guys," she said, her voice smooth.
Everyone in the class mumbled a few greetings. Not long after, Mr. Carter sent her away to sit. She stepped forward and began to find a seat. She ended up picking the one to my left. I gave her a small smile as she sat down. This was a good opportunity to make another friend.
"My name's Inez. It's nice to meet you," I quipped.
"I'm Jasmine," she responded, holding out a hand.
I shook it. Her grip was very firm, which was surprising. It lead me to think she did a sport or some type of training. Not many girls that I knew shook hands as well as she did.
Jasmine's eyes widened slightly. "You have a good handshake."
"It's from volleyball," I laughed.
"They must have you sweating, then. A decent amount of volleyball players I knew don't have as much strength."
"My coach set me up on a workout regimen that I do at home. I have to, since I'm the offense of our team."
"Really? That's interesting."
"Do you play?" I questioned.
"At my old school, I did. My position was setter. They kicked me off my sophomore year."
"Why would they do that?"
"I beat up our team captain," she admitted nonchalantly.
"Huh?" I breathed, a frozen smile on my face.
Am I . . . Also going to get beat up?
"She was less of a captain and more of a prick. It seemed she was only in it for the role of bossing people around and having things go her way, than getting us to the finals."
"Well, I could understand how that could defeat the purpose of volleyball for some. But, I don't think beating her up was a good idea," I laughed awkwardly.
