Chapter Text
"Damn, I found a fag"
I almost choke on cigarette smoke and quickly look up at the girl who just said that to me. I basically don't have to (which says a lot because I'm literally sitting) since she's 5 feet tall at most, which makes the obviously male, brown bomber jacket she's wearing look ridiculous. It's practically covering the shorts she had to have gotten dresscoded for since I can actually see her underwear sticking out. Her hair flows down over her shoulders and it's so black it absorbs absolutely no light. Although I can fucking see dark red lace under the low cut shorts, it's her eyes I pay attention to. Just two pale, light brown points on her pouty, uninterested face staring at me like she's expecting something from me. Overall, I wouldn't even be able to guess she's british if it wasn't for the obviously London accent.
And this little girl said it. Fucking bitch.
"Listen, whore." I abruptly stand up and stub the cigarette on the school bench. Now that we're both up, the height difference is even more apparent and her forehead reaches just above my shoulders. "I will fuck up your whiny ass back to England so shut the fu-"
"I meant the cigarette, tosspot." She narrows her eyes looking right into mine. "I wanted a puff. I'm not calling you a faggot."
I have no clue what whatever she called me means. All I know is she looks completely unphased by me yelling at her.
"you seem agressive as fuck." She notices, looking like she's studying me much harder now. "Wanna skip next period and go make out under the bleachers?"
I still don't really know what's happening but she's pretty and she doesn't have to tell me twice, so I just stare at her blankly for a couple of seconds before I put the cigarette pack deep into my back pocket and Chase after her without a word.
As she shoves her entire tongue into my mouth, I realize she probably doesn't do this very often. By the time the bell rung out, signalizing that I'm going to miss history again, I realized she's a sophmore. I've totally seen her around school before. Kissing an older girl seems kinda weird knowing I'm at least a foot taller. She grabs my hand out of her hair and places it on her chest. I'm not really taken aback by her forwardness. It's not my first time skipping class to grab a girls tits. Been there, done that. I touch the edge of her bra with my fingers and can imagine the color of the lace I feel. The whole thing feels kinda surreal and I only snap out of it the moment I hear a phone ring. She abruptly pulls away and declines it before I can even see who called her. Whatever it was, it must've meant something since it gets her to quickly combs through her hair with her fingers and stands up on her feet.
"I gotta run." She announces, grabbing her worn out tote bag. Considering the size of it, she must not care enough to take literally any books to school with her. Same. "But call me, will you?"
"I don't have your number"
The girl sighs like it's somehow my fault I don't have the number she never gave me in the first place and I immediately sit up straighter as she puts her hand in my pocket. She takes my pack of cigarettes, takes one out and hands it to me with a clearly not new pen she apparently had. It takes a few second of silence for me to even realize what she wants from me. When I do, I carefully scribble my number on the cigarette. It's not like my handwriting's great but she should be able to decypher it. She just takes it along with the entire pack and runs off, not looking back even once, leaving me sitting on the damp grass confused and cigarette-less. I watch her until she dissapears on a nearby turn and run my tongue along a bloody spot on my lip. I'm pretty sure she bit me.
"For fuck's sake, Mike. Could you turn the music off? I can't focus"
"I literally just came home. Can't I relax for a second?"
Zoey is standing in my doorway, jaw clenched, blonde hair in the messy bun she always has when studying, looking like she might just throw the textbook she's holding in her hands right into my face. It says 'Advanced geometry'. Yeah, sounds like her. I can see the gears in her brain turning, trying to think of any insult to throw back my way but before she can actually come up with one, she gets backup. Of course she does.
"Mike, let her study and turn this shit off. I can't hear my own thoughts."
Yeah, maybe because you don't have any.
I'm obviously not saying that to my dad. That would turn into a whole new thing I'm not really in the mood for right now but my dad cannot be serious. It's not even loud. Either our walls are actually paper thin or he just likes agreeing with Zoey whenever she bitches about something.
"Why can't I say the same fucking thing when she's listening to music and I'm trying to focus?"
"Don't fucking swear in my house. Just turn it off."
Our voices are now on the edge of full on screaming, like pretty much everytime we get into a disagreement but before we can keep raising the decibels, he walks off, making it known fully well this conversation is over. Zoey just smirks like she won or something so I stand up from my chair and slam the door right in her face.
With an irritated sigh, I pause the CD before Jonathan Davis can finish 'Blind' and curse my sister out under my breath. With no real idea for anything to do I just lay down on my bed. Not before taking the pile of clothes off of it, of course. I just put it on my desk chair, continuing its' endless trip from my bed to my chair and vice versa instead of putting it into the closet because let's be real. Who does that? I lay facedown on my pillow, eyes closed, considering just taking a nap since apparently music isn't allowed in this household. The universe's quest of not letting me rest is apparently working perfectly since I get a few seconds of silence before my phone rings. I force my head up lazily and stare at the screen on my nightstand. An unknown number. I pick up.
"Hello?"
"Hey"
"Who is this?"
"God, you're so thick. It's Savannah."
I only understand who 'Savannah' is from the accent. I somehow already forgot she has my number. She owes me cigarettes.
"Yeah, right. What's up?" Knowing it's her, I actually sit up with my back against the backboard.
"I'm going out with some friends in a moment. Wanna hang?"
I was actually planning to study today, but obviously I'm not going to pass up on meeting up with a hot girl just to stay in. That's something my annoying-ass siblings would do.
"Yeah, why not?" I instinctively try to make my voice somehow sound cooler and cringe inside realizing it.
"Cool, then come here."
"Where?"
I hear Savannah sigh again. Not my fucking fault I don't know where 'here' is.
"That old building near school. You know the one. Just get here quick. We're not gonna wait for you."
With that she hangs up the phone before I can even answer. Guess I'll be improvising the maths test tomorrow