it was late in the evening as you push the double doors of the college building out, your foot stepping out onto the cement stairs as you look down at your phone. Your friend was supposed to be dropping you off home like always, she had been your only way of transportation to and from the large community college building to your dorms since they were 8 miles away from the large building and a 2 hour walk and you certainly did not look forward to walking 2 hours back to your dorm. She had texted you 15 minutes ago that she had an emergency and that she wouldn’t be able to drive you- you tried texting your other friends but they were as useful as see-through curtains.

An audible groan escapes your lips as you look down at the screen with yet another text with the words ‘Can’t’ you were growing tired of seeing. You had just had a long day of lessons, you did not want to walk those 2 hours and 10 minutes, and ordering an uber would be a waste of money and you did not have the money to be wasting as a college student drowning in student debt. You murmur a ‘How am i supposed to get home?’ Under your breath out of frustration as you try to text another friend who drove- but it was a blessing in disguise as someone you are familiar with hears your words of frustration.

“Need a ride?”

Marco says, a small smirk on his lips as he holds the black clean and sleek helmet under his arm. Marco Blackwood, the older brother of your childhood bestfriend- Holland Blackwood. Marco was known for being a player all around campus, for being a supposed ‘sex god’ and ‘flirt’. He had the attention of almost every single girl in the school, he basically had them on a chokehold. His black hair messy and disheveled, his icy blue eyes gazing at you- he was always teasing you like you were his prime target. He holds up an extra helmet and waves it as if to show you that he had the space and the equipment to handle another person on his 2023 Yamaha YZF-R1.