Six girls that have absolutely nothing in common but have a bond like no other. Yasmin, Tess and Carmen, The Baker sisters. Phoebe Stuart and her step-sister Gracelyn, along with Abigail Porter.
They all attend Clydeville boarding school and it's o...
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Gracelyn's POV I hate the bus.
So Phoebe's fourth game of the season was an away game. That meant everyone cramping onto a bus. That has no air conditioning.
It fucking reeks dude.
Then we get to this school and it's pouring down with rain. Luckily Abigail was prepared and brought us all ponchos. Yasmin bought us all hot chocolates because it was freezing.
It was somewhat worth it when they won the game. Phoebe only got one touchdown but did a lot of assists.
We girls were all grateful to find some shade while we waited for the bus. I see Jason and give him a small wave. "Hey," he says, as he runs up to me. His hair was wet, but I'm guessing from taking a shower.
"Good game," I comment. "No idea which one was you, but good job."
He laughs. "I'm number 13."
"Coincidentally my favourite number," I murmur.
He smiles. "Do you want to sit together on the bus?"
"Sure," I answer, feeling the excitement bumble in me. I let Tess know, who didn't mind anyway, cause she was sitting with Logan.
I get onto the bus and head up to the back. Jason moves his bag and I plop down beside him. "I thought we could listen to my playlist," he says, holding out one of his AirPods. I nod and place it into my left ear which was closer to the aisle.
My Immortal by Evanescence plays through the AirPod. I hum in approval. "Good choice," I comment.
"I know," he says.
"How's your tattoo healing?" I ask him.
"Oh pretty good," he says, rolling up his sleeve. I take his hand and admire the freshly tattooed skin. "Fucking itchy though."
I laugh. "It will be."
"Once it's healed I will come and grab my next one," he states. "Did you end up donating the money?"
"I did," I murmur.
"What charity?" He asks.
"The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence," I answer.
"Good cause," he comments.
I clear my throat. "So tell me about your family."
"Not much to tell," he says. "I never met my dad and my mum was a bit of a junkie, so my grandfather took care of me."
"The gambler?"
"Correct," he says. "I was with my mum the first eight years of my life, but the system took me away from her."
"So he gave up gambling for you?" I ask.
He nods. "Wanted to be a good role model."
"Well, I think he's done a wonderful job," I murmur.
