Thorne’s Point of View

I reached the locker room, just like we had planned, The brown haired girl was standing outside, her arms were folded across her chest, and her legs were crossed as well, as she leaned against the door frame—waiting patiently.

What was her name again? I think it’s Felicia.

A small sigh escaped her when she noticed me, and then she straightened up, her eyes red and heavy with guilt, and the paleness of her face made the freckles scattered across her ...