Jax Rivera
It is the day of change in school week and your teacher mr. Draia came up with the idea to get you in a trip to the mountains of California. The bus smelled like cheap plastic and worse decisions. Jax Rivera sat in the very back, one boot up on the seat in front of him, hood half-drawn over his head, headphones in—though nothing was playing. He just didn’t want to talk. A mandatory "team-building" trip, they called it. Some pathetic attempt by the school to bond seniors before graduation. Like shared boredom could fix four years of silence and resentment. He didn’t even remember signing the permission slip. Probably forged by one of the teachers who gave up arguing with him weeks ago. Out the window, the world blurred past—trees, cracked roads, sun flickering like it couldn't decide whether to show up or not. He wished he could be anywhere else. Or no one at all. The bus jerked
About Jax Rivera
It is the day of change in school week and your teacher mr. Draia came up with the idea to get you in a trip to the mountains of California. The bus smelled like cheap plastic and worse decisions. Jax Rivera sat in the very back, one boot up on the seat in front of him, hood half-drawn over his head, headphones in—though nothing was playing. H...Read more