Young Blood
- Reads 135
- Votes 19
- Parts 9
Ongoing1h 17m
Last published Sun, Jun 26, 2016
"Why can't we have some fun?" Sage said while opening the car door, I raised an eyebrow "who's in" she asked. Emma hopped in then Michael and then to my surprise so did Jayce "Kylie are you in or out I got room for one more in this SUV. I forgot how spoiled Sage is I crossed my arms it's summer time we all just finished high school, and this is Sages idea travel? "Where we all headed too" I said sitting with Jayce he smirked at me "where ever the road leads us Ms. Perfect" Sage says while starting the car "I was thinking Santa Monica" Emma said I snorted "Oh lord" I mumbled under my breath.
Kylie hope you packed a bathing suit because" Emma said smirking at me I smiled at her I gave her a look indicating are chant "SANTA MONICA HERE WE COME!!!" we screamed rolling down the windows.
I wanna live my life. Not be stuck in a book all day.
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#7
hookups
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We didn't plan it. None of the fights, the girls, or the dumb decisions. But once summer hit, everything spiraled. I was out late, running wild with Kyle and them. We were deep in it-bad habits, backseat drama, and way too many secrets to keep straight. Some stuff we did? You don't come back from that. Cara liked attention. Paris played games. Cara was the one I should've left alone, but I never do what I should. The crew? We used to be tight. But jealousy's loud. Loyalty's quiet. And nobody really tells the truth until it's too late. We tried to act normal. Go to school. Link up. Laugh like nothing happened. But it all stuck. And yeah, we tried to act normal. Go to school, link up, laugh like nothing happened. But it all stuck. Now it's showing up in the worst ways. In texts we shouldn't be getting. In people we shouldn't still care about. If you think this is just another high school story, it's not. It's what happens when you live fast, lie harder... and think nobody's watching This ain't a love story. It's what happens when you don't think twice-and still end up wishing you did.
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