June Schlieb is the adopted sister of Kevin Schlieb. It's a known fact, but that doesn't mean the wounds of her complicated adoption history aren't still fresh. Who would've thought she would've found bandages from her Battle of the Bands rival.
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drip drip ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ Chapter 11
The three drunk teenagers clambered out of the backseat, and before I joined, my head took it upon itself to turn to the boy, angrily gripping the wheel. I watched the three shuffle through the front door before settling back into my seat. His gaze never left the window, and suddenly I was resisting the urge to run back in, feeling too drunk to make a sufficient apology for rear-ending his dad's car into a jerky teenager's pick-up. Nevertheless, I wasn't in the mood to go to bed with a million questions, and a boy who's rigid features made me think I might need to keep one eye open.
"Sorry about the car thingy." I murmured, aimlessly drawing shapes on my jeans. The alcohol was making me uncharacteristically nervous. "And the damage."
"I don't care."
I bit my tongue, along with the exasperated scoff that was currently fighting it's way through my throat. If he didn't care, why the fuck was he acting like this. Keep it cool, I told myself. There was no logical reason to escalate this.
I opted for a tired sigh, instead. "Then what's your deal?"
"Why do you care?" He finally turned to face me.
I'm not sure I've ever felt such an urge to strangle somebody, but then again he's always setting new records for me, every day. "I don't know!? Maybe cuz' you're being an asshole, even though you don't even give a fuck about the car. You're real fuckin' complicated, y'know that?" If it wasn't obvious, I really like that word, especially when alcohol comes into the mix. "I mean, was it not metal enough for you? Should I have ran him the fuck over!?"
My volume was rising at every word, which was only adding to the tension that was pooling in the car. My ugly habit of attacking before the person even gets a chance to was now becoming apparent, and I decided to cut myself off, waiting for whatever response he was going to come up with after that.
The boy laid his back, and twisted the silver rings on his fingers. "You stuck your head out the window."
"What?"
He leaned towards me, and suddenly there couldn't have been any less space between us.
"Who do you think they'll target now?"
I can't help but scoff, which was accompanied by a slanted smile. "That's what this is about?" I whisper, almost in disbelief, with a touch of cockiness. I'm not sure this is what I was expecting, and I don't know if I'd prefer that reasoning over simply being mad about damages and repair. To that, heat flushed my face, and fresh air never felt any more delicious than how it was right now. "I am flattered, but I still don't why you care."
His eyes drifted across mine, and I could tell my reaction wasn't one he'd imagined. "Don't pretend like this is something it's not."
My face twisted in a way that didn't hide how confusing that reply was to me. Something it's not? What does that even mean.
