Michael decided that going over train tracks without slowing down would be fine, especially without telling me first.
So now I'm here, trying to get the cold, stickiness off of me.
"Are you at least going to say sorry?"
"I feel like it's just a little too late."
I shook my head, and cleaned up as best as I could.
"Wanna play I spy?" He questions out of nowhere.
"No, you're driving."
"I spy something brown." He begins.
"My hair?" I guess.
"How'd you know?" He said.
"Because my hair is brown?" I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Yeah." He laughed.
"Where are we going to first?" I ask.
"Well, since we're leaving what, Bradford? Pennsylvania," He looked at me and I nodded my head, "I thought we'd be headed for Ohio."
I've never been to Ohio, I don't know what's there.
"Isn't it just fields?" I ask.
"No, there's more than just fields." He smiles.
"Like what?"
"I don't know, we'll just have to see."
"Wow, I've never been on a road trip before. Are they fun?"
"If you have the right people to go with."
"Cool." I say, rearranging myself, "Can I at least know how long the drives going to be?"
He looked as if he was doing very hard math for a good amount of time, and turned to face me at a stop sign, "I don't know. Maybe like three hours."
I checked the time on my phone and put it on a timer for three hours.
"Alright. Sounds good." I say while he finally put music on.
"Have you eaten?" He questions me, slowing down his horrific driving, that I was actually getting used to.
"Well, I had my slurpee, that's it."
"Alright fine, we'll get pizza." He says as if I begged him for it.
The first pizza place is where he went and got us pizza.
He came back in the car and started driving fast.
"Woah, did you steal that pizza or something?
"God no, I'm just well known. I hope nobody follows me." He answered tossing me the pizza and driving in his terrifying way.
"Wait, are you like, a killer who escaped from jail or something?" I said slowly taking my seatbelt off.
He laughed before turning to me, "Yes."
I unlocked the door and ran as fast as I could with the pizza box.
He came chasing after me, yelling that he was "just joking".
When Michael stopped running and began walking, I stopped as well.
He stood about five meters away from me and began talking.
He tossed his phone toward me, and I caught it.
"Just search me up on Google." He says with his hands on his knees as he was trying to slow down his rapid breathing.
"Do you know how to spell Clifford?" He stupidly asked me.
"Who doesn't?" I said reminding myself of Clifford the big red dog.
"Michael Clifford," I read out loud what Google was telling me, "Guitarist." I looked at the pictures it brought up of him under his name.
"Scroll down." He says, closer to me.
"Born November 20, 1995.-" Michael interrupted me.
"Just read about the band."
"5 Seconds of Summer, since 2011. Aw that's a long time!"
"See, I'm not a killer, I was joking."
I looked at him, then the phone. I typed in 'Michael Clifford killer'.
I gasped, "Then why does it show a picture of you with a delinquent sign!" I threw his phone back at him and began running from him again.
"That was for a music video! I wouldn't lie to you about this." He yelled for me.
I ran to a nearby store, still with the pizza box in my hands and yelled out, "Don't go out there, that killer Michael Clifford is outside!"
I heard some girls shriek and run out the store anyway.
That had left the whole store empty. I followed the huge group of girls that were now surrounding him for pictures.
It confused me, I had just saw he was a murderer, and people praise him for it?
Unless he wasn't lying and was famous.
Oops.
»Published May 21, 2016
