Rules Of The Game: Book 1

8; Pretty Privilege

𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 5th, Tuesday
Parkers POV

As I maneuver my Audi into the empty spot next to the curb, the steering wheel slides under my hands. Thankfully, I've always had good coordination with my car, so it's easy work to parallel park here.

What wasn't easy was waiting for this dumb spot to open up. Since it's after-school hours on a Tuesday, the roads around San Francisco are jammed up with traffic. I suck on my cheek and hope Miles can get here easily as I grab my backpack, jumping out of the car.

It beeps in farewell as I step onto the sidewalk, automatically locking for me.

As I weave through people and walk towards the café, it takes a lot of self-control not to groan and flop over onto the sidewalk like a sunbathing dog.

Maybe I'm a whore for great weather because today is perfect. No humidity, a slight breeze tousles my unruly hair, picture-perfect blue sky, the ocean crashes a few miles away. In fact, if I were to stand in the middle of the street, I would be able to see the ocean off in the distance since this street is so steep.

I kick myself for not making plans to meet Miles at a beach or park instead.

Glancing up at the store signs lining down the sidewalk, I catch sight of our destination down the street. I adjust my backpack straps as I walk, smiling politely at any strangers that make eye contact with me. Some of them greet me or throw out a kind sentence, recognizing me from the front of headlines for football.

"Hey, man."

Those two words alone bring me to a grinding halt. It takes a lot not to smile like an idiot as I turn around, taking in the sight of Miles as he steps up onto the sidewalk. I think my I need to force myself to dislike Miles tangent from yesterday is done.

It doesn't help that I forget to hate him each time he speaks.

"Hi, are you ready to get this project started?" I ask casually. All day, I gave myself a pep talk that circulated around not making a fool of myself this afternoon.

Yesterday's mix-up with my 'I'm not gay' shit and my awkward rambling from Sunday is enough to make me want to sprint back to my car.

"Yep, I was born ready!" Miles proclaims, giving me two thumbs up before he motions to my backpack. "You got the goods?"

I kiss my teeth and continue to walk towards the coffee shop, looking over at Miles as he falls in step next to my side. "The goods? Are you talking, like," I lower my voice, darting my eyes to look around the busy street, "drugs?"

Miles laughs, catching my teasing tone. He bounces in front of me as we reach the storefront, grabbing the door and holding it open for me.

"No, not drugs! Calm down, frat boy," Miles shoots back. "A laptop or something else to access the internet."

I dip my head at him in thanks as I walk in the café, the smell of burnt coffee beans stinging my nose. Now that I've spent some more time with Miles, I'm slowly figuring him out.

To give him more shit, I spin around on my heel and walk backward with a raised eyebrow, acting offended. I point back to my backpack. "Yeah, I got a computer. But 'frat boy'? I've never touched a drug or alcohol in my life, but can you say the same?"