Ivy Brooks lives her life day to day like a normal college student. Majoring computer science at UCLA, the sophomore- most of the time- tries to stay out of trouble as much as possible and focus on her studies. And as much as she loves to be antisoc...
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❝chapter four❞
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As soon as we got off the bus on the 5th Colorado, Jax started running down the street belting the lyrics to Hakuna Matata. His eyes were obviously closed because next thing I knew he runs straight into a lamp post and falls to the ground. Multiple lights start going on around us, all in different houses, and people rush to the window to shout at Jax to be quiet or they'll call the police. I sighed and did what anyone in the right mind would've done and helped the idiot up, apologising to the residents and making up some dumb excuse that at this point it wasn't even relevant anymore because the crybaby didn't want to get up.
"Get your fat ass up, you donkey," I kick his thigh and I hear him mumble something in return, shaking his head all the while.
"No, mama, my head hurts," roll my eyes and pull him hard enough for him to sit on his butt.
"Of course it hurts, stupid, you banged your head on a lamp post at a freaking 160 miles per hour," A breath leaves my lips, the oxygen debt taking what it needs back from all the effort I put trying to make this watermelon get up. And he wasn't even standing. It was honestly so frustrating that the guy looked like he worked out literally every second of the day yet he weighed as if he ate every second of the day.
"Pick me up mama, take me home," his hands shot straight up in a direction completely opposite to where I actually was. I furrowed my eyebrows and thought about what he had just said. He didn't drink before so he wasn't intoxicated to act completely out of character so he must've hit his head pretty hard if he called me 'mama'. Putting that aside, I grabbed his hands and tried to pull him up once again.
When he didn't budge, I smacked his head and shook his shoulders harshly, "Jacques Parker, get your ass off the damn floor," he widened his eyes, one arm at the back of his head, rubbing the spot where I hit him. Finally, he stood up and started walking down the street, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I followed him quietly, noticing how the slight breeze was tangling his curls. He fell quiet afterwards and we walked through the streets peacefully. The sky had a slight orange hue from the thousands of lights from the city, but you could still see the few stars above. The moon shone brightly on us and it illuminated all the perfect features on Jax's face. As we got closer to the Santa Monica mall, which was obviously closed, more teenagers started appearing on the streets and I guessed there was a party at the beach hangout since at this time in the night, only hobos roamed the streets.
We passed by Tongva park and I waited for a car to drive by so I could cross the road. I only felt Jax back by my side when I entered the park and we made our way deep into it and sat at a picnic table. No one was in the park so the only noise was the engine of the cars the passed by once in a while and the faraway seagulls. Most of the nights, Santa Monica would be buzzing with life but today seemed to be different and I couldn't understand why. I was always used to opening my window in the middle of night and still hear cars that passed by and the sound of the waves as they hit the shore and the people that partied until morning. It's weird being engulfed in such silence in Santa Monica. Especially so close to the pier.
