Right Before The End | BOOK #4 IN THE PSU SERIES

introduction

(Wattpad is acting wonky, let me know if me posting it again works and you all can finally see it!) 

Sage Williams

Life was the paper and I was the finger that would always get the cut.

I hated mechanic pencils. I'm serious. I hated them. There is nothing worse than getting to a good point in your writing and then having to click for more led only to find out that you are out of the led.

However, the regular number two pencils were right up my alley. Sure, I had to carry a pencil sharpener everywhere I went but it was a lot better than just not having any led at all. I especially loved them for the way that whenever I wrote using them I would grip them so hard that my fingers would become blistered to the wood.

Letting my painful thoughts escape me one at a time.

The sun was bright, so annoyingly bright that I was pissed off that I couldn't close the damn curtains because my parents had taken them off of the fucking window. Great, right?

And it wasn't because they were some freaks who take their kid's doors or curtains away as punishment. Trust me, I never had friends who had parents like that– but I have heard of people who did have strict parents like that.

My parents weren't strict.

They were borderline annoying. Well, actually, I walked in on them having sex on the kitchen counter yesterday– so forget the borderline, they are absolutely fucking atrociously annoying.

"Sage! The car is packed!"

I brought the edge of the pencil to my mouth, biting into it. See, even the wood pencils smell and taste better than the mechanic pencils. I swear, in my past life, I was a pencil. I was tall, I was long, I was orange, I smelled good, and I was a bit pointy– I was sharp.

My door slammed open.

"Shut the fucking door! Did I say you could come in!" I slammed my journal closed as I screeched. Turning to face the door, Slater was leaned up against it, his arms crossed. That annoying ass piece of shit who looked like me.

"Wanna wrestle for shotgun?" He walked over to me, ripping my earphones out of my ear. I gasped, reaching out punching him in the gut– which he annoyingly didn't even make a face for.

"I'm not going." My tone was smug.

He grinned down at me, letting out a chuckle. "Your roommate isn't even that bad, you are being dramatic." I wanted to take the eraser of my pencil and erase his face.

"Slater. I caught her looking at your Instagram yesterday and when I asked her, she told me that she wanted to make sure it was a six-pack and not a four. Do you know how gross that is?" He threw his head back laughing at my discomfort.

And not to mention the fact that she was going to be the worst match ever for me. She was a perfectionist. I mean– I walked into the dorm for the first time yesterday and she had not one, not two, not three, but four calendars plastered around her side of the room. She had her entire semester planned out already for freshman year.

I don't even have my books yet.

"Come on," He reached for my hands, trying to yank me from my window seat. I shook my head, laying all of my body weight on the bench but it was zero matches for someone of the strength of Slater Williams.

"No, I'm literally not going. I'm dropping out." He curled over, laying as I glared at him.

"Dad!" He yelled our father's name through laughter.

I started to panic. Slater might not be able to make me go but I know for a fact that my father was able to make me do anything with one simple bribe. "What?" He called from downstairs.