/A Wattpad Featured Novel/
"The day I saw her, I understood why the devil was so tempting."
"Like an angel, he stood avenging, unknowing of the battles to come."
...
"Absorb. (Paint.) The canvas in oil painting or the paper in watercolour is said to absorb when, owing to its grain or some flaw in its sizing, the colours cannot be perfectly laid on, but lose their intensity."
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It's been three weeks.
Three weeks of classes, orientations, and successfully avoiding the White siblings. Drake, Principal Benoit, and Coach Patterson along with the whole proposal.
Speaking of the proposal...
Yesterday at the assembly, all clubs came out to showcase what they had to offer in the auditorium.
The cheerleading and football team left quite an impression on the newcomers, which was so cliché. When the gymnastics head came out, she looked tired and defeated in her letterman jacket which told me that she was a senior and wanted to leave an impressive mark this year. But didn't have much support.
That showed when the boos were thrown at her and the team during the speech and one of them slipped, crashing down hard on the floor and had to be carried out by the medic team.
Principal Benoit lied. They were worse than I imagined.
And it gave me so much more motivation not to join, despite that little part of me that yearned for the court. So I never gave it another thought.
I also learned how to stay under the radar, despite the rumours that started to circulate. Some were impressive, others were just so stupid.
"I heard she's a teen mom," someone said attempting at whispering but sucked. Big time.
Case and point.
The person by her side gasped theatrically at this, hands probably flying to her mouth for added effect. "Really?"
I rolled my eyes in annoyance and my sight went hazy for a second, but cleared after a while, the world coming back into focus.
The first person went on while I hid my face in my locker, arranging a few things and retrieving my textbook for the next class.
"Uh-uh," the other girl sassed, her nasal voice louder if possible.
Just like Ariadne's wool, they'll judge and spread, increasing the wool and creating a never-ending cycle.
Idyllic wasn't it?
"And what's wrong with that?"
My brows dipped low, confused at the intrusion of a third person's voice.
"What do you mean Bridget? It's not morally upstanding," the other girl said or rather spat out in distaste.
"Exactly," the other girl that spoke up before, hers rougher than the other two said.
