smoke • calum hood

vingt-quatre.

twenty four: dec. 31st - our first new year's eve

one of the worst fights we ever had was on new year's eve. we were at some kid from another school's party, drunker than we should have been after we both had a pretty rough day. you, fighting with your sister about not wanting to go to college and me, fighting with my mom about something i couldn't even remember, angry at her and even angrier at my dad for not being there when i needed him.

he was never there when i needed him.

we had barely talked to each other all day. any time i tried to have a conversation with you it just resulted in an argument. i knew that neither of us were mad at the other, but i hated that you kept shutting me out and getting angry instead of talking it out or taking a minute to cool off before you started yelling.

so when i saw a girl all over you i couldn't help but get mad. of course, you weren't entertaining her in the slightest. you actually looked incredibly bored and slightly annoyed, but i think the conversation lasted far longer than it needed to.

so naturally i had the brilliant idea of talking to some kid named wyatt to make you jealous. immature, i know. but it worked, obviously, because you were a very jealous person.

"what's so funny?" you walked up to us, mouth pressed in a flat line and interrupting my giggling at whatever wyatt had said, towering over the both of us.

"wyatt was just telling me this hilarious story about what his little sister did at daycare today," i explained, feigning oblivion to your anger. "you should tell calum, wyatt!"

"not interested," you said through gritted teeth, glaring down at the blonde haired boy. "ad, can i talk to you for a minute?"

"not now," i pressed my luck, seeing just how far i could push you. "i'm talking to wyatt."

"yeah, man, we're just having a conversation," wyatt seemed to not be fazed. his mistake. "just chill."

you took a step forward, "you won't be able to have a conversation with a broken jaw. now get lost, before i break your face in."

wyatt just scoffed, trying not to look intimidated. the world seemed to move in slow motion as i watched you pull your arm back and ball your hand into a fist. it collided with wyatt's face, and i could hear the sound of his nose crack from where i was standing.

after you threw the first punch, a full on fight broke out. unfortunately the kid throwing the party was wyatt's friend. luke, michael and ashton tried to break up the fight and ended up getting caught in the middle. i was terrified. all of my friends were in some giant brawl like it was straight out of a movie.

i was frozen where i stood, which resulted in me getting shoved by some kid, making me squeal after i hit my hip on the counter. as soon as you saw me stumble, i could see your eyes change. it was like you weren't you anymore. you grabbed the kid by the collar and punched him over and over again until someone yelled 'cops!'

everyone scattered, except for you, until luke and ashton pried you off of the poor kid. michael grabbed mason by the hand and we all ran to the car.

the ride home was so silent you could hear a pin drop. michael dropped us off at my house, breaking the silence with a sarcastic 'happy new year', where luke immediately went inside because he knew what was coming.

i stood outside with my arms crossed, refusing to speak first. the anger was coursing through my veins and i wasn't backing down.

"don't look at me like that," you spat, shaking your bruised hand that was probably sore.