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Chapter 8 Oakley
Something I learned about college kids?
They’re messy as fuck.
Every classroom I clean never fails to have a shit-ton of stuff left behind.
Wrappers. Soda cans. Water bottles. Empty chip bags.
A half-smoked joint.
Want and need tangle in my chest as I bring it up to my nose and inhale.
It’s the premium shit.
Goddammit.
And just like that…an image of Hayley permeates my brain.
CBD gummies and oil for my epilepsy are one thing…but smoking this joint will undoubtedly lead me down the rabbit hole of doom.
After giving it one more lengthy sniff, I chuck it in the garbage can.
The shit must be even better than I thought though because when I turn around…
She’s standing there.
Her long dark hair is in a ponytail and she’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and cargo pants—something the Bianca I know wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in public—but she’s still as gorgeous as ever.
Grabbing my broom, I focus on sweeping the floor. “I’ll be out of here in a minute.”
She takes a step forward. “I was hoping we could talk.”
I give her the only answer there is.
The one I have to give.
“No.”