Offshore🏄🏽‍♀️ *Completed*

A surfer, one of the hardest stereotypical expectations to live up to. Everyone expects you to say "rad duudee" and talk like your almost senseless. Bailey changes it all once she meets Samuel, who did live up to the stereotypical expectation. A highschool dropout who decides to live his life on sardines and a broken surfboard. The two connect in many ways until they realize who they really are.

Cover Credits: NightShade creepypasa

All rights reserved to Ginia Rose©


8. Chapter 6

   ~Baileys' Point Of View~


   I sit in this mint blue chair stained with coffee tapping my foot, just waiting for someone to say something. At this point anything would be great, they just leave me here completely blind.

  "Are you related to Mr.Wheeler", some tall skimpy guy with a blonde beard shakes my hand. "Zayden Anthony Wheeler, yes I'm his bestfriend", I anxiously stand up announcing his full name. "I'm Dr. Crenshaw, only family members are allowed to go in and see Mr.Wheeler at the moment. Do you know any?", He looks around. "I'm kind of the only family he has. His parents are dead, his grandmother lives in Ireland, he has no aunts or uncles, and his grandfather is in a senior citizen home", I say a full biography.

 "Well where is his social worker?", he furrows his blonde eyebrows. "He was recently granted emancipation, although he's 17 they found everything correct", I smile a little. "Umm yeah, we'll research on that later come with me", he scratches his pinkish skin. I can finally get out of this terribly smelling chair, in this depressing waiting room.

   But there he is, in room 202 face bruised, cut just above his eye, arms wrapped up, neck brace, feet raised up, eyes squinting open. Why would he want to see me? I made all of this happen. I shouldn't be here, why am I here? Your bestfriend just drove off of a hill and into a tree Bailey. Possibly because of you! Tears began to flood my eyes, and there they are as I blink. Warm, salty water stream down my cheeks and into my mouth. "Zowpow?", I softly say trying to stop the tears. "Bowwow", he strains the cringy nicknames we gave eachother when we were like ten. "I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have told him", I say sobbing. "'s my fault I was...jeal-", he softly clears his throat and strains a cough. "Okay, don't speak...silence", I sit next to him.

   "Mr.Wheelers, some people are here to speak with you..your emancipation wasn't granted, you have a warrant for fraud, your under arrest", a blonde female cop walks in with a clip board and a vanilla envelope. 

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