Miss Perfect and The Bad Boy

one - sneaking in

NICOLE

"I'm telling you, Connor, they don't even care," I complained to my boyfriend, holding my phone in one hand and using the other to play with a loose string on my shirt. "They barely even acknowledged it."

Staring out the window, I saw the trees moving with the wind. The rain pelted against the window, echoing loud noises. I heard shuffling and video game gunshots on the other end of the phone, followed by the sounds of multiple teenage boys screaming.

"They're probably just busy," he comforted once he and his friends were done yelling at their TVs.

I picked at my nails, frowning. "Too busy to care about their daughter telling them she got into her dream school? I doubt it."

"You know? Maybe they're more Oregon parents. It's not too late to apply," he replied.

Connor had gotten offered a spot on the football team for University of Oregon earlier this year and he'd been trying to convince me to apply there for months, even before he got accepted. We all knew it would eventually happen. He's perfect- smart, athletic, a great role model. But, you'd think the last 3 months of me declining would be enough for him to realize I don't want to go to Oregon.

That's enough of him for today. "I'll see you at school, okay? I have to finish my homework."

He hung up without a word, as usual. I groaned as I threw my phone on the bed. I flopped down on my bed with my homework still surrounding me and buried my face into the pillow, not wanting to move ever again. It was pretty late at night and I was still struggling with my verbs. French class was not going well.

7 more months in this hellhole of a town, and then I'd be on the other side of this country at Princeton. Far, far away from Greenwood, a small town in the suburbs of California, filled with rich people who decided they were too good for the city, including my parents.

I started to sit up, trying to tackle these stupid conjunctions one more time, when I heard a wrapping sound on my window. Three quick taps. I was on the second story, but there was a balcony right outside my window. My heart started beating through my chest as thoughts raced through my mind.

Is there a robber?

Is someone here to murder me?

Why the hell would they knock?

Am I going to die?

Part of me wanted to run and call the police, but I decided by the time they would get here, the creeper outside my window would've broken in. I grabbed a huge decorative guitar laying on the side of my wall. Not the best weapon to fight someone off, but it would do. Against my better judgement, I slowly went to the window. It was pouring rain and pitch black outside so I couldn't see anything.

"Open the fucking window already!" the voice from outside called out. It sounded familiar. Too familiar. I'd recognize it anywhere.

I quickly rushed towards the window and unlocked it, realizing who it was. A tall boy with brown skin and dark, wet hair wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans stood on the other side. He was drenched in rain and his hands were bright red from the cold and wrapped around his clearly freezing body.

"Alex?" I asked, confused and worried. "What are you doing?"

I didn't know what to say or do. I hadn't heard from Alex in years. He used to knock on my window in the middle of the night years ago, back when we were best friends but those days were long gone. What was he doing here now?