American Sweethearts

36

I'm so sorry for the late update, guys! I didn't forget about you, I swear! I've just been so busy, I didn't have any time to upload. But, here it is!

Also, we've reached 6k! This book is growing so fast, it's scaring me. I honestly cannot thank you enough. It warms my heart to see you enjoying this story. 

Lots of love, xx

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"Are you sure about this?" Tyler asks, playing with the lighter in his hand.

"No," I shake my head. "But I want to."

"Are you sure? Because you don't have to. I can do it for you if you want."

"No, I need to do it," I say.

"Is it going to give you a panic attack? Because I don't know how to deal with that shit."

I almost want to laugh. Neither do I.

I have to admit, I am anxious. I've never done anything like this before. It's completely unlike me. If my sister knew I was doing this, she'd be furious. If she ever finds out, she'll force me to move back home and never see Tyler again.

Lena is going to lose her mind when I tell her. She'll be proud of me, even though what I'm about to do is unbelievably stupid.

My heart thumps in my chest, but my anger is stronger than my nerves, right now. I try to stabilise my hands, knowing I'm going to need them pretty soon.

"I have to do this," I say.

It's going to be so therapeutic for me. It'll relieve my anger, and help me let out my frustration and fear. Not just about Christian and his frat, but everything in my life. It's going to make me feel better, I can already tell. It'll probably boost my confidence a lot, too.

I, Sarah Stone, am going to break the law.

On purpose.

Yep. You read that right.

Tyler tosses me a black sweatshirt from the back of his car, instructing me to put it on. It's way too big for me, but I don't even have any hoodies, so my options are limited.

"Remember," Tyler says. "Avoid eye contact with everyone. If someone calls out to you, don't respond. Don't say my name, and if something goes wrong, run. If you see the cops, run. And most importantly, listen to me."

"Okay," I nod. I take a deep breath. "I've got this."

"Are you ready?" he asks, lifting my hood over my head.

No.

"Yes."

"Let's go."

Just like that, we run around the corner, sprinting over the road to the silver BMW parked in the driveway of the frat house.

"Take this," Tyler says, handing me a baseball bat. "Smash his windscreen."

I hesitate for a moment, holding the bat over my shoulder. It's not too late to run. I can still back out of this.

"I can't do it," I say.

"Yes, you can! I thought you wanted it!"

"I do I just..."

"Don't feel bad," he tells me. "Use this instead."

This time, he hands me a pocket knife. He motions to the car's tyres. This might be a better place to start.

I flip the knife out, and stab it into his wheels. A smile forms on my face as I watch it deflate. I move around to the second one, and repeat the process until they're all ripped.