(Now being rewritten as Milkshakes And Big Breaks)
Sometimes, chasing your dreams can take you far away. In this case, Bridgit Thompson is already on her way out of this galaxy. She's ready to do anything in this whole world to be a popular, well kn...
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A/N: fan art (not exactly art, but eh) by moi! (I was bored)
***
I struggled to sit still as Jonah kept clicking on his IPod to work. It wasn't going to work anytime soon, neither were we going to get out. Half of Jonah's shirt was dampened with water, and small drops were falling from his black hair as he kept muttering things that I couldn't quite make out.
His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth was curved down. His look indicated that he either wanted to jump from the highest building in the world, or kill every single person in front of him.
He wasn't alone.
That was how we spent the last twenty-five minutes. I started fiddling my hands, thoughts of how worried my parents must've been started to hunt me. My hunger was close to making me see everyone in front of me as chicken wings—like the cartoons, and I'd be thrilled at the sight of a toilet.
But I was always taught not to let fear control me at situations like this, that's why I took a deep breath and promised myself that everything was going to be alright. I got out of my seat, noticing the confused states of the others. It wasn't like I was even listening to their useless plans to get out of here. We weren't going to get out so easily, so I could also try benefiting from that.
As I walked into the land of bookshelves, I took a look at most of the books, regretting that I didn't spend much time in our school's library. Who knew that there were lots of amazing books? That was when my eyes fell on it, a little book with a dark green cover. 'How to be a Better Writer' was written on top of it.
I grabbed it at once and started searching for an empty place at the back of the library. Away from them. I slumped into one of the wooden chairs, and it hurt. Slumping on it wasn't exactly a good idea. My hands kept turning page after page as I started reading the points. Although I was very focused, l could still hear the chair beside being pushed.
"You actually like writing?"
I lowered the book a little so I could look at the speaker. Matthew was sitting on the chair beside me, he was half-crossed with a leg on the chair and the other down—the way my mother used to shout at me for sitting like. His eyes were widened a bit, and his lips were curled in an amused smile.
Closing the book, I let out a sigh. It wasn't like I was going to be able to understand anything in the sticky situation we were in.
Get it? Sticky? Because we were stuck in the library?
Great, I was getting infected with Matthew's puns.
About to open my mouth, I realized that I wasn't ready to talk to anyone, and I was getting confused from his weird stares. I thought that he'd feel that I didn't want to talk, but I was proved wrong when he kept looking at me, waiting for an answer.
