Jax's role as the "mutual friend" was to help Estella get the guy. Falling in love with her was never part of the plan.
Estella Gillon lives a simple life that consists of band, friends, her father and her never-ending crush on Brice Abrams. Ja...
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"Goooaaalll!" My father jumped out of his spot on the couch with one fist up in triumph and the other grasping his beer. His face was split into a grin as the crowd jubilated from the goal in the soccer match he was watching. "A por ellos!" He fell back onto the couch, his grin intact before bringing his beer back to his lips.
It was his day off, and he was in a good mood.
That was one thing I loved about soccer. It made my father happy. It was a great tranquilizer after a day's work at the steel factory the night before, but I knew better. He was drinking beer, which I also liked because it never got him drunk, but I refused to wait around for his inevitable fall from this peak of contentment.
These were the only moments I looked forward to going to Oliver's place.
I grabbed my water bottle and made myself a mix of popcorn and almonds that I placed in a bag to munch on in the car. When I zipped the bag closed, I made my way to the front door.
My father's gaze followed me. "A dónde vas?"
I peeked back at him. "Out."
"Which is?" he queried.
"Oliver's place."
My father's brows knitted together. "I still don't know why you do this to yourself, Iago." He leaned back with his arms resting on the back of the couch. "Why do you affiliate yourself with those mocosos? Do you like making yourself feel bad?"
I didn't want to hear this, but I remained silent.
"Those boys? They're here." He raised a cupped hand up. "And this is you." He lowered the hand, and I swallowed. "This is us." He kept his hand in the same position as he leaned towards me. "You'll never be like them, no matter how much time you spend with them. So why do it?"
I didn't know.
He was right.
Oliver, Brice, Tyler and almost everyone at Villa Ridge High were better than us, in a sense. I would never be like them. Honestly, I didn't want to be like them.
They were so ignorant and sheltered and most of them had everything handed to them on a silver platter. A part of me hated all of them for that, so why did I hang out with them?
"Vete." My father dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "Do what you want with your life." Another wave of cheers came from the screen. "Viva España!" he shouted with his arms going up again.
I was out the door in record time, adjusting my headphones around my neck as I made my way to Verda. I ignored the fast-paced life around me with all the cars honking their horns and the sounds of people's chatter and even the familiar hazy air that was extra suffocating today. None of it mattered.
