A senior guy in Harvard is dared to pick a random number on his phone and talk to them every day for two weeks. Not knowing that he would be talking to the super sensitive, mouth vomiting, Santana-Daire. His childhood best friend he up and ditched...
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'Are you okay?'
I sat next to Vincent in a huff and glared down at the grass.
Stupid Grass.
Why did it have to grow now! It hadn't grown before so there wasn't really a reason.
The stupid fucking grass can't just grow into my life like it never left in the first place!
Why can't it just go back to where ever it came from.
We were better off.
'I'm fine.' I mutter and take a bite of his burger which he held beside me. He should know not to put food in front of my face.
Silly Boy.
'Well, you're glaring at the ground like it just stung you, what happened?'
'It was nothing Vincent.'
Vincent turns to me, his blue eyes analyzing me as he takes a hold of my hand. Vincent had been in my life ever since Ryder left when I was twelve, 7 years. He knew the truth about me and Ryder. Unlike anyone else. In Highschool during the first two years me and Ryder -no- RYDER ignored me and after a while, I got the memo. We were to act like we didn't know each other. When I became I junior Vincent had to move to London and I asked my parents if I could go with him. I'm 22 now so I haven't seen Ryder or heard from him for about five years, well that was before.
'You're lying. Was it your Dad?' He asks worriedly and I shake my head with a sad smile.
'No...Ryder. He called me for no reason yesterday and again today. He even text and I'm not sure what he wants.'
Vincent's blue eyes shine with new energy. This always happened when Ryder was mentioned, which wasn't a lot. But it was like he knew some kind of insight.
'Uh...What has he talked about?' Vincent takes a bite of his burger and throws an arm around my shoulder, winking at a group of girls who were walking past our outside table. They blush and start talking amongst themselves.
Most likely about Vincent Alexander.
'Well...He talked about....nothing, seriously. There was no point in any of his messages!'
I through my hands into my dark red hair an tug.
'Give me your phone.' He grins and I pass it to him. He types in the password and reads the messages with a quizzical eye.
'Have you ever thought that he just want's to reach out again? Maybe mend what was broken?'
I had thought about it, but hearing Vincent say it made a little spark of hope burn the pit of my stomach.
