THIS IS THE FIRST BOOK OF THE "IT'S CALLED" SERIES. (BOOK 1)
It all began when a family descended back into the city. A move that ignited a series of events that lead to the mysterious death of a highschool student.
Upon arrival, a gloomy boy is abo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(Photo: Gregory Dens.)
SAMANTHA'S P.O.V.
"I don't think he's catching us." Kath commented.
In an unfortunate turn of events, Greg rammed into the skater boy, spilling the coffee that made a splash on Blake's pure white t-shirt.
"Oh... shit!" I muttered in utter shock, palms covering my mouth.
The whole room went silent. All heads towards them.
I was frozen as the situation unfolds right in front of us like a theatrical plot we all never expected to happen.
"It was nice knowing him. May he rest in peace." Leticia whispered and made a sign of a cross.
The skater boy ran away like his life depended on it, leaving a petrified boy with a pale face. The big guy slowly stood up from his seat towering over the small boy behind him.
"Oh, no." I shook my head feeling nervous.
Blake muttered something, rage obvious on his face. He slowly turned his head around and stared at Greg with so much hate.
"I think we should do something." Katherine suggested.
The girls and I stared at each other, not sure of what to do. We promised not to meddle with the group and keep our distance from each other but that all goes out of the window when a friend is involved.
Blake is now gripping Greg's collar firmly, glaring straight at him in pure rage. Greg on the other hand looks like he's going to faint, his eyes filled with terror while sweating profusely.
I carried my feet, vamoosing from where I am towards them, pushing people out of the way with Leticia and Kath behind my back.
Blake's arm clenched, ready to strike a sucker punch familiar to a lot of his victims and each one landing in the infirmary.
Before he can land his fist, I managed to seize his thrusting arm.
That was close.
-----
GREGORY'S P.O.V.
I was practically trashing at his firm grip on my collar, begging him to spare me from the beating. I mean, come on, his whole palm is as big as my face. I don't think I can actually survive if that fist of his lands on my face!
I closed my eyes when he lifted his fist, waiting for the pain that will agonize me for the next few days but it never came.
I cautiously opened my eyes, peeking at him but all I can see are his knuckles centimeters away from hitting me. He was staring at something, no, someone.
I tilted my head to my right and there I saw Sam gripping Blake's arm firmly.
"You should really pick on people your own size... Blake." She spat.
