Paint A Picture On Me

Tres

I see Kellin standing at his locker placing books on the shelf so, naturally, I sneak up behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. He jumps out of his skin and whips around to face me, wide eyed and without pride.

"Holy shit," he breathes, laying his forehead on my shoulder. "Don't do that to me."

"Sorry," I chuckle and he lifts his head back up again, laughing with me. "Shall we go?" I ask, taking my hands off him. He nods, closing his locker and walking towards the parking lot. I catch up to his pace and walk at his side. I try and think of something else to say to him, but nothing comes to mind. I guess I don't really know all that much about Kellin.

As we walk outside I watch as our breaths mixed in with the cold air around us. The walk was a silent awkward one, but eventually we approach the car. Mike's already in the car when we get there. I hop in the back and let Kellin sit up front with his friend. It takes what feels like ten years to get to Kellin's house. It was actually only thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. Yes, I had counted. Mike stops, sending me another look I can't comprehend and Kellin and I hop out.

"So, uh, my mom will be home around 4:30, but until then we're home alone!" he says excitedly. I smile at him as I hear Mike pull down the street. It was weird having Mike drive. I mean, I'm a grown ass man, yet there he was, at the wheel, while I stared at my watch in the backseat.

"Are you guys close?" Kell asks. Aw shit, I thought I got over this 'Kell' thing.

"Mike and me?" He nods, pulling out keys and slipping them in the door. I find myself noting his movements while answering: "Yeah, ever since we were little tikes he's been like a brother to me."

Kellin smiles brightly, and welcomes me inside his home. It's pretty much the normal, basic house. But I've been living in a cramped apartment for the better half of a year, so to me this a palace. "What's his actual brother like? What was his name?" he goes into deep thought for a second before his face changes as he screams out "HECTOR! It was Hector! So, what's Hector like?" We each take off our shoes and he crouches down to go through his book bag.

I have to bite my tongue so I don't call myself a hottie. Honestly though, Hector? How the Hell did he get such a horrible name out of classic Víctor. "I don't really know, I never got close to him like I had with Mike. You'll have to meet him for yourself so you can be the judge." I'm shocked at my own words, but honestly it might be funny to see the look on his face after this is all over—if he ever does meet me that is—so I don't take anything back.

"I should. Maybe you could introduce us," he says, smiling at me before leading me upstairs, only his book in hand. I decide against saying anything else on the topic and figure I need some more background on Kellin Quinn.

"What about you and your family?"

He laughs loudly and answers, "I have a sister. She's a PMSing bitch." My eyes widen involuntarily, but I find myself laughing at his words anyway. "I love her though, she's just incredibly annoying ninety percent of the time." He stops in front of a door near the end of the hall and bites his lip, looking kind of embarrassed. "I- uh, maybe could- um..." he sighs and I was honestly on the brink of laughing at him, but I contain it and everything's fine. "I need to clean a few things up, can you just wait here for a moment?"

"Oh please, I don't care about a mess. I'm a teenager too you know." Well, I was at one point.

"No, trust me yo-" he tries, but his protests are futile since I reach behind him and shove the door open anyway. My mouth falls through the floor as my eyes dance around the small space. This is beyond a mess. There are clothes everywhere, hanging off lamps, his closet doorknobs, coating his bed, you can't even see the floor through the thick layer of material. There are posters littering the walls, placed perfectly so that you can't even see what colour the paint is. I swear he covered every natural inch of this room. He has a small desk with his covered with ripped and crumpled papers as well as empty pop cans and chip bags. It looks a bomb went off in here. And believe me, I would know what that looks like.