Dyed Hair Rock Show [Michael Clifford]

Do I Wanna Know? // 32

I drove. I drove towards the freeway, and to where after that? I'm not sure. Not here, though. That's for sure.

Cruising down the highway I got off on about an hour or so ago, going 85, my phone started ringing. It was Michael.

"Rachel?" He said when I picked up. "Where are you?"

"Michael, hi."

"Hazel said Ashton told you to leave, so you did?"

I bit my lip.

"Why? Rachel, you're amazing. He's just jealous, you know that. Right?"

I wanted to tell Michael I had sympathy, that I've felt like Ashton does, that it's nothing to get over in a day. But instead I muttered, "Yeah, I know. It kind of hurt."

"I don't want you to hurt yourself or end up in a bad place, baby. Please come home."

"I know," I said. "I'll tell you what," I smiled, "I'll see you later."

I could hear his smile as he told me he'd see me later, and I hung up, throwing my phone in the passenger seat after plugging it in, then pulling back onto the road. I turned the knob as the sounds of Pop-Punk flooded my car's capacity.

****************

I pulled into Santa Maria after a couple hours of driving and shut off my car. Poor baby, the engine's pretty warm. I sighed, and grabbed my phone off the charger, then my wallet, putting them in my sweatshirt pockets, and got out of my car, shutting the door and started to walk up these mountain-like mounds, down about 15 minutes, until I got to the gorgeous coast.

The view was great. It was super nice. I smiled, taking it all in. A beautiful afternoon, about 4:00. I tipped my aviators back, and took a picture of the whole coast.

I decided after about ten minutes, I should probably go into town to grab lunch. I'd finally worked up a good mood to eat.

What Ashton said hurt me. I mean, a person can only be hurt so many times in their life.

After all the times and things with my dad, especially my recent visit, the little things seem to poke you for fun, catching up from the past.

Whatever, I thought as I walked uptown into a little cafe.

"Hi," A girl just a bit younger than me was my waitress.

"Hello."

"You seem to have had a long day," she smirked shyly.

"Oh, yeah, it's been something, that's for sure. Do you guys have Espresso?"

She nodded, "Yeah, same here. And yes, we do. We also have a bakery or a menu, if you want that."

I Shrugged, "I'll have a grande Espresso, with a shot of caramel and a dash of cream, for now."

She nodded with a kind smile, then went off to go prepare it. I seem to have come right after rush hour, there was only one other person inside, an elderly man.

I got up and went over to their bakery counter. There were muffins, croissants, bagels, sandwhiches, scones, danishes, pastries, and breads and other various items. How yummy. Haze would like this place.

"Getting a gander?" The girl from before asked as she was in the back making my coffee.

I nodded, "Yeah, there's so much. It all looks so good."

"Ah, I would say that's a good guess, but I've only ever really eaten a blueberry muffin."

"Hm, well. I'll have a cherry-pecan croissant, warmed a little, then." The croissant I was eyeing was big, and wow. It looked so good.