Y O U T H (scomiche)

jenga

"Scott."

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about...um...I don't know, um-"

"How do I feel about what?"

"I don't know. We're always so good at talking about something for, like, hours, and I want to pick your brain. I want to learn weird little stuff about you. I just don't know what, though."

"When I was a kid my favorite color was green."

"What is it now?"

"A battle between blue and purple."

"Ooohhhh."

"What's yours?"

"Umm, I'm gonna go with black."

"Very you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, you're very much the goth girl."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Mitchy."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead, continuing to pet my hair. We were so tired from earlier, we hadn't even bothered to take off our shoes. Neither of us knew why it was a good idea to walk to the diner, but it happened. My legs still feel like they're about to fall off.

"Who are you going to vote for in the next election?" He said, staring at the ceiling.

"For whom are you going to vote in the next election, Scott."

"Oh, I see how it is."

"What?!"

"Nothing. I just don't know anybody that talks like that."

"I talk like that!"

"Hmm."

"Oh, stop that." He giggled, accidentally snorting a little bit when he laughed, getting me to laugh at him.

"Stop it! It's not funny!"

"Yeah, it kinda is."

"Shut up!"

"Did you just tell me to shut up?"

"Maybe."

"Don't tell me to shut up!" I said, playfully.

"What are you, my mom?"

"Yes, my name is Connie Hoenig Hoying."

"How do you know her maiden name?"

"We're friends on Facebook."

"Wow."

"Wow." I imitated.

"Stop it!"

"Make me!"

"Shut up."

"Tell me to shut up one more time and I'll call your mother!" I threatened, pointing a finger at his chin.

"You don't have her phone number, though."

"Don't need it."

"How?"

"HEY SIRI?" I screamed, knowing Scotts phone would immediately respond.

"noOO!"

"Call Mo-"

"Mitch Grassi!" Scott shouted, interrupting me.

"Just to confirm, you'd like to call Mitchell Bae Grassi?"

"No."

"Call cancelled."

Scott looked at me with a "haha, I beat you" face. I faked an irritated sigh, and rested my head back onto his chest, my arms still latched around his waist in a half-hug.