Just Saying

C H A P T E R 1

Mikhaela's Point of View

"MICHAEL GORDON CLIFFORD! YOU ARE SO DEAD!" I yelled, chasing my big brother. He laughs maniacally, flailing his hands around while gripping my T-shirt. He jumps over the couch, tripping while he did so. I use the chance to my advantage and pinned him down on the floor.

"Give it to me, Michael." I say lowly as I sat on his stomach.

He squirms under me, yelling profanities.

"Why do you want it so bad, Mik? It's just a shirt." He asks, finally calming down but still gripping the shirt.

"It's from Tommy, you bastard. Gimme it!" I reach out to grab the shirt but he stops my arm, a smirk plastering itself on his face.

"You don't act like this whenever I steal your boyfriend's shirt, so why are you acting differently this time?" I roll my eyes, crossing my arms as well.

"He's far more important than him." Sarcasm dripping from my statement. Although I sounded sarcastic, it was the truth. Tommy, my best friend since nursery, really is more important than my boyfriend, Ryder March. I might even love the former more than the latter. In a non-romantic way of course.

Sure it sounds a bit weird that I'd choose my best friend over my boyfriend any day but I can't help it. Tommy's been there for me much much longer than Ryder. We haven't even been together for more than two month. So you can see where I'm coming from. And we haven't said the L word yet so... You get my point.

Michael sighs, finally being a good boy and hands me the shirt.

"There, happy?" I nod. I hop off of him then helped him stand up. I smile widely at him before turning on my heel and heading to my bedroom.

"To be honest, Mik. You and Tommy look great together." He mutters just loud enough for me to hear.

He coughs and quickly adds,

"Just saying."

I shake my head just as I reach the door to my safe haven.

I enter the room, locking the door after. I check the clock on my dresser.

7:32, it reads.

It's the first day of school and we're going to be late.

I groan inwardly, trudging to my closet.

"Nice going, Michael! We're gonna be late!" I yell, making sure he hears it loud and clear. I pull out a pair of black skinny jeans and a plaid shirt I borrowed from Tommy.

Notice the italics on the word borrowed.

I change into my outfit of choice, folding the sleeves since it was way too big for me, then put on my Converse high tops. I ran a hand through my ginger-dyed hair before folding the shirt I retrieved from Michael a while ago. I grabbed my messenger bag before exiting my room.

I ran down the stairs, stopping on the last step. Michael was now dressed, his also ginger-dyed hair spiking in different directions.

You see, my brother and I have this thing going on where we dye our hair. It started approximately three years ago. I was 14 and he was 15. We only did it because we were bored and since that day,it kinda stuck and became our thing. Our last hair color was green, which lasted for only a month before we went for ginger.

He hikes his bag up his shoulder and stands up.

"Took you long enough."

I glare at him.

"If you didn't steal my shirt then we wouldn't be in this position." He rolls his eyes, approaching me and draping an arm around my shoulders.

"But it wasn't yours to begin with." He replies, pulling me towards him and out the door.

"You're driving." I push him to the driver's side. I smirked lazily and sat in the passenger seat. He starts up the car while fumbling with the music player.

We reached the school within 15 minutes. We get out of the car simultaneously. He slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to the gates.

A figure straightens their posture when he sees us. Tommy. I smile at him and wave vigorously. I push off the arms and ran to him.

He smiles widely and opens his arms. I run to him faster and tackle him into a hug. I bury my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Him doing the same.

"How are you, love?" He whispers into my ear. He pulls away from the hug but his arms still encircling my waist.

"I see you're wearing my shirt." He adds, a smirk slowly creeping up his face. I scrunch at my nose at him, and push a hand up his face.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, bastard."

"Thomas, actually. But I understand the confusion." I roll my eyes, leaning in to hug him again.

"Do you miss me that much?" I nod.

"Summer was very boring, if you must know." I mutter, burying my face further into the crook of his neck.

Everything seemed perfectly fine, until...

"Hands off my girl, you dipsh!t."

Uh oh.

-
And that is the first chapter of Just Saying. I apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors. English is not my first language, so my apologies.

Vote

Comment

Anything's fine with me :)