This Is The First Thing (Punk MGC) [English Version]

CHAPTER 3

*2 weeks later*

At lunch I was, once again, looking for Ashton but suddenly someone kept my eyes shut. I stopped walking and wondered if it could be Ashton. „Hey, Alex.“ Calum said not long after and I was relieved nobody was making a twisted joke with me. 

„Calum! Nice to see you again!“ I replied and laughed as he draped his arm across my shoulder and made no effort to take it away. So I just let it be there and we continued to walk through the school, at first quietly, but then Calum spoke up: „Hey, is there anything I need to know about Ashton? Sometimes he gets really quiet, especially if there are other people around. Almost as if he’s jealous I got other friends.“

„Oh, no, you got that completely wrong! But I can’t tell you the story, it’s his place to tell, not mine. But I can tell you this: Ashton had a really…hard year before we moved here, which is part of the reason for the move back here. He’s not jealous, just a little insecure. Maybe you just need to introduce him properly?“

„Oh, thanks Alex!“

„No problem, Calum. I like you as long as you don’t hurt Ashton.“
„Shouldn’t Ashton be the overprotective one?“ Calum laughed.

„Oh, trust me, he is. But the past year wasn’t exactly easy for my family and especially for Ashton, which is why I have to protect him a bit and make sure he’s okay.“

„That’s cute.“ Calum smirked, nodded at me and just turned into the classroom we were passing at that moment. I was a little confused by that so I stopped walking and looked after the black haired guy. Then I realized I was almost at my math room and that the cafeteria - where I had wanted to look for Ashton - was in a totally different wing of the school so I walked in the direction of my math room. Thankfully Mr. Miller was already there and prepared himself for our lesson. Mr. Miller was an old oddball with a grey moustache, who seemed to hate every single student. Unfortunately I had been late to my first lesson with him which made him hate me a little more than others. Therefore he ignored me arriving in his classroom rather early while I took my book out of my bag and went over the latest stuff. I wasn’t really a nerd but math was definitely the subject I was the worst in and I didn’t want to fail. 

When the bell rung I was still sat alone at my desk - just like it had been the past two weeks. Obviously my neighbor had once again decided not to join us for math. I couldn’t really blame him. I only knew his name was Michael, what brought me to tears almost every time, and apparently he was a bad boy. That’s what Calum told me about him. I was almost entirely sure that it was not the Michael I knew from my days back here because my Michael was one of the nicest human beings the world had ever seen and far from a bad boy. Nonetheless, the name ripped off the bandaid I had put over the wound over and over again. Because since my mom and I left Sydney five years ago we didn’t have any contact. I missed him and secretly I only agreed to go back to this school because I thought I’d see him again. But obviously he wasn’t attending this school anymore.

The door was pushed open just as Mr. Miller wanted to start the lesson.

„Ah, Mr. Clifford. How nice of you to join us.“ He greeted the newcomer annoyed. When my brain registered his name my head flew in the direction of the door. Clifford? As in Michael Clifford?

The boy wore black skinny jeans, a ripped band shirt and his hair was an indefinable colour between pink and purple. his lip was pierced and there were tattoos scattered all over his arms. 

But when I looked at him while he walked in my direction I got caught in his eyes. His eyes - full of warmth and love when I last saw them - were cold and emotionless. Nonetheless I knew it were the same eyes. 

There in front of me was my childhood best friend, Michael Gordon Clifford, and he hated my guts.

Heya! 

hope you like it! 

love, Becks xx