Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

|| 16 ||

A long day alone. Emptiness is so real. Never having peace of mind. Running from what I can't take and there is nowhere left to hide. Turn and face these empty lies. All alone, heart unturned. Trying to find. Break me down replace this fear inside. Take this nothingness from me.

«Lost» Red

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"Have you ever thought about a new car? Maybe with seats?" Michael calls from the back. None of the idiots have their cars, and I don't think any of them have their license either. Meaning I was their ride to a school.

"Yeah. Feel free to get me one for my birthday," I chuckle.

"And we have seats," R giggles.

I see them all flip us the finger in my rear view mirror.

"My brother is getting a new mattress. If I brought over the old one, could we put it back here so we don't get bruised every time we want to drive down to Starbucks?" Ashton grumbles.

"Yeah! If you wanna bring it over, feel free to stick it back there. Put anything you want in." I shrug before an alarm goes off in my head and I snap around in my seat to stare at them. "But if you turn my car into a hippy hangout girls with flower crown profile pictures post about, I will drop a bowling ball on your heads in your sleep."

They all look scared for a second before agreeing.

"Where can we get some twinkly lights?" Luke whispers to the other boys. I roll my eyes and spray the squirt bottle without taking my eyes off the road. They all cry out in surprise and begging to make it stop.

"How do you manage to always have that on you?!" Michael screeches.

"I'm not telling," I playfully snarl.

"I'm burning it," Calum mutters.

"Touch it and we are back to the bowling ball," I snap.

They all groan and flop back, managing to bang their heads against the metal bunker. I chuckle and turn up the radio until I pull up into the school parking lot.

"What do you have?" Michael asks me as we all step out of the van and start walking towards the main entrance.

"I start in English, today."

"Did we have any homework?" Ashton asks.

"Just reading. And the eye project." I shrug. I see Michael's eyes in my peripheral vision flicker around until they land on the ground in front of him. "Who are you doing that on, by the way?"

"Do you know Evan?"

"Oh, yeah, we're friends. He's a nut," I laugh. "I sit next to him in like half of my classes. He always passes me notes that consist of everything from random and stupid to morbid and disturbing."

"Disturbing how?" Luke warily asks.

"Like stick figure Mrs. Rylen falling off a cliff with spikes and sharks at the bottom," I explain. "Sometimes he's at the top with a gun and she has blood spraying from her head. I've also gotten them where she has no head. But he isn't limited to cliffs or Mrs. Rylen."

"Uhhh... Okay then..." he chuckles uncomfortably.

"He's a weird one," I giggle an shrug it off. "But he does have great eyes."

"Why do you know how great his eyes are?" Michael laughs with a huff.

"Like I said, I sit next to him a lot. Not to mention we get into these stare downs when we're being stubborn. His eyelashes are like freakin' fans."