cliché (phan)

two

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Parties- something I never liked. My mom never wanted me to go to them anyway. Yet I lied, telling her I was going to a friend's when instead I was here.

Somehow, Tyler, my best friend, managed to convince me. It was stupid, considering the fact that as soon as he laid eyes on a curly-haired boy named Troye, he followed after him like a lost puppy.

I was stood in the corner, an alcoholic beverage in my hand and the other shoved in my pocket. I looked up to see none other than Phil Lester walking towards me. I gulped.

"Dance with me," he murmured, reaching his hand out. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't sober either. He was dressed in a black button-down and khakis, a lazy smile taped to his face.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I don't dance. Especially not with twats like you."

He rolled his eyes. "You're as full of shit as a toilet is," he responded. "I know you can."

"Classy," I scoffed. He winked. "Fine. If I dance for a full song, we get to trade places for a game. I want to prove to you I'm good at any position."

"Are we talking about soccer or sex?" Phil joked.

"Shut up," I laughed. "Now, deal or not?"

He smirked, extending his hand further. "Deal."

I grinned, taking his hand and shaking it. He then yanked me into the crowd of dancing drunks, giggling. The music was blaring, the bass causing the drinks on the table to shake and the walls to vibrate.

I hummed along to the lyrics of the song, taking a few more sips of my drink as I swayed along to the music. Phil reached out and hopped his arms around my neck, and I held loosely onto the hem of his shirt with my free hand.

Slightly grinding, we jumped in place, our fringes falling in our faces as we laughed.

"Song's almost over!" I yelled over the music. I tried to ignore how much I was enjoying this, forcing myself to remember that I hate him. But, before Phil could reply, there was screaming.

"Everybody run! It's the cops!"

Phil and I froze as everybody began pushing and shoving to run out the back door. I turned to face the front door, seeing red and blue lights bouncing off the walls.

"Shitshitshitshit!" I cried. "My mum is gonna kill me if they catch us!"

Phil only laughed. "They won't," he assured me. "Hey, you two!" Two boys turned. "Block the front door with that dining chair!"

The strangers obliged, snatching the wooden chair and hooking it under the knob. Phil grabbed my sleeve, pulling me with him to the back door. While some teens risked running out in the front and escaping the cops, Phil led me to the backyard and towards the fence.

"What now?" I asked, scared.

"We jump, doofus."

He squatted, cupping his hands in front of me. I set a foot in his palms, latching my fingers onto the top of the fence. I scurried to climb over, about to jump, which failed as I fell. My foot slipped off the side of the fence and I gasped, loosing my grip on the wood and crashing into the floor on the other side.

I could hear Phil laughing. "Are you-" he cut himself off with more laughter. "-are you alright?"

"What do you think, asshole?" I groaned, cautiously getting to my feet. "Get over here already!"

"Hey, hey Dan," Phil laughed. Then he began singing. "Hello from the other side!"

"Shut up, Adele!" I held in my laughter. "Hurry up!"

"Alright, alright!" He hissed, hooking his feet onto the fence.

"If you fall I'm going to laugh," I told him. He easily unhooked his fingers, jumping off and landing onto the grass perfectly. I crossed my arms, my lips forming in a tight line.

"Sorry, what was that?" He teased, cockily raising his hand to his ear. I punched him in the arm.

"Take me home, Lester," I demanded, beginning to walk down the sidewalk.

"On one condition," Phil began. I turned to him, raising my eyebrows. "You have to go on a date with me."

I ignored the butterflies in my tummy. "Oh yeah? Why should I?" I challenged, my lips curling up into a smile.

"Why wouldn't you?" He responded. I exhaled, not answering him as we walked back to his car. We drove in silence, the only sound being his engine and the stereo. When he parked in front of my house, I looked over at him.

"Meet me at the cinema at seven tomorrow night. If you're late, I'll kick your ass."

Phil chuckled, reaching over to open the door for me. "It would be a pleasure to have my ass kicked by you, Dan Howell."

"Go away," I responded, hiding the smile on my face as I shut the door. "By the way, this doesn't mean I like you."

"The feeling's mutual," he replied, then rolled down the window. "See you at the stare game! Oh, I mean soccer game!" He teased. I blushed, turning on my heel.

"I do not stare!" I yelled, but he was already driving away. Trudging up to my house I unlocked it with my keys, looking around.

"I'm hoooome!" I sang.

Mum appeared, apron on and hair in a bun. "What's got you in such a such a good mood?"

I hid away my blush. "Nothing," I lied. She rolled her eyes.

"You and your secrets. How was it at Tyler's house? How's Jackie?" She asked, referring to his mother.

"They're fine, she's fine. I had dinner over there," aka ordered pizza, "so I'm gonna go ahead and shower then go to bed. I've got practice tomorrow."

"Alright. Sleep tight, baby. Love you."

I smiled. "Love you too."

As I was walking up the stairs I grinned at the familiar sound of nails skidding on the wooden floor, turning to see Buffy, our dog, charging towards me. She knocked me down and I gasped, laughing.

I talked to her, my voice high-pitched and child-like. I pet her once more before letting her follow me upstairs. I threw my bags down, changed then showered, and met Buffy in my bedroom.

I climbed into bed and Buffy immediately crawled over, snuggling into my side.

"I have a date," I whispered quietly. I then turned to lay on my back, smiling widely at the ceiling. I covered my mouth with my hands. "I have a date!" I yelled.

"Shut up, gay kid!" Our neighbor yelled through our window. I frowned, slamming my window shut, and going back to my bed.

And that night, I dreamed of a certain number with blue eyes, black hair, and a cocky attitude.