Last Chance Avenue [Ed Sheeran]

Last Chance Avenue

Gripping my pink guitar in one hand, and balancing my laptop in the other, I maneuvered my way into my best friend, Ed's, dorm building. It was filled with a boyish scent, with that less than pleasant smell that most boys usually carried with them: one of weed, sweatiness, and testosterone. I pinched my nose in a weak attempt to keep most of the scent out until I reached dorm 623, which was Ed's.

"Danny," I heard a deep voice call from behind me. Clutching my items tightly, I turned around to see Marcus Langly, star of the college football team. He peaked in high school, that was for sure, and still hadn't come down from that high. In his mind, he could still drop panties with the simple fact that he carried around a football and had big biceps. Along with being star quarter back, he was completely oblivious to the fact that I was not interested in him.

"Hey, Marcus," I said politely. I didn't speak to him kindly because I was too shy to be mean, it was just the fact that he was the type of person to ruin your entire reputation if you got on his bad side. Ed, however, was already on his bad side, he just had nothing to lose.

"Going to go see that loser again?" He asked me, blocking the path of Ed's door with his oversized, rather meaty looking body. I tightened my grip. "Are you going to let him serenade you to death?"

I didn't know what to say really, mainly because I was always the reserved type, and comebacks or  insults usually came two days after I've been dissed. Instead of arguing with him, or letting him at an attempt to swoon me into his dorm room, I moved around him. "I'll, um, talk to you later, okay?" I said with an empty promise. Marcus stared at me in shock as I rushed to Ed's door and knocked.

"It's open," a British voice called out. I opened the door and stepped inside, finding the red head sitting comfortably on his bed.

"You weren't in class." I noted, propping my guitar up against his heavy wooded dressed. He looked up at me with his piercing blue eyes, with a questionable look. My whole body broke out in tingles.

Up until this day, I had lived my life coloring in between the lines. The craziest I got was occasionally smoking pot with Ed, mostly by the means of peer pressure. I was content with my life, being the good girl, the one people could go to in times of need, but several months ago I decided that I was no longer content with where I ranked with Ed. I didn't want to be another "chick friend", who was cool enough to hang with, but not cool enough to date. I was tired of seeing him with rude, lousy girls who did nothing but ruin his trust in relationships and make him angry. I wanted to ask him to be my boyfriend, because I was fairly certain I was in love with him.

"I didn't feel like going," he informed me, snapping me from my thoughts of the both of us, holding hands in public.

"Because you don't feel like passing?" I asked him. He sighed. I knew why he couldn't care less about school. It was always a struggle for him, and he had barely made it into a uni by the skin of his knuckles. He wanted to major in music, as I was, but his family did not think that a music career was predictable or obtainable. With all of that said, he simply didn't give a rat's ass about getting to class to do something that he hated.

"That class is complete bullshit," he said angrily. I sat at the edge of his bed. His roommate, Naja, had moved out after rushing, and he was usually alone in his dorm room.

"It's not completely bullshit," I assured him as he mindlessly plucked out a tune on his guitar, which he called Trevor. "It just doesn't have use to you." I said.

"Couldn't have said it better. So did you come to grill me about my absences, Warden, or did you come to hang out?" He asked, looking up from the guitar to my eyes. I smiled and jumped up from the bed, almost tripping. "Careful," he called after me.