I (Accidentally) Kidnapped 5SOS

Chapter 33: Ice Cream and Confessions

Chapter 33: Ice Cream and Confessions

(a/n) Now you know why I portray Luke as an idiot. ^^^

P.S. Merry Christmas, y'all! Or if you don't celebrate Christmas, Happy Holidays! I hope you got tickets to your favorite band! :D

"Michael, you're insane," I giggled as he pulled me towards the door.

"Hey, this was your idea," he threw over his shoulder.

"It was not! I just said that I would like to do this again."

"And we are. Point made."

"I hate you."

"Hate you, too."

I grinned when he said that. That was just our way of expressing our "affection" for each other. He was like my new best friend.

"Where are we going today?" I asked as we stood under the covered bus station.

Michael shrugged. "I dunno. What are you in the mood for?"

I thought about it for a second. "Something cool and creamy...."

"Ice cream!" he shouted excitedly, and I laughed at his reaction. He was such a little kid, but sometimes that wasn't a bad thing. I loved his enthusiasm for simple things. "But where for ice cream?"

"Culver's?" I suggested.

"Sounds good."

Michael was sufficiently disguised, so we didn't have to worry about people recognizing him on the bus. On the other hand, it was around three in the morning, so there was only one other guy, and he was passed out in the back reeking of liquor. We sat in the front giggling at nothing and blasting music from Michael's crappy iPod. The bus driver rolled his eyes at us before closing the doors and driving on.

"Saturday night and we in the spot!" we sang along loudly to "Uptown Funk". It was like our tradition now. "Don't believe me, just watch!"

Then came the instrumental, and Michael wiggled around in his seat as he danced weirdly. I bit my lip to keep from smiling too widely, and I joined in. We probably looked like we were drunk or high or something, but I didn't care, and it was obvious that Michael didn't, either. That's what I liked about him. When he wasn't feeling low, he didn't give a crap about others' thoughts of him. He did whatever he wanted, and that was cool.

"You know, you're not too bad at singing," he told me when the song ended.

"Thanks," I said, grinning up at him. "You're not too terrible yourself."

"I wonder what makes you say that?" he chuckled.

The bus slowed to a stop in the downtown area, and we hopped off. I paid the driver and left him a nice tip for our annoyingness, and he smiled and tipped his hat at me in thanks. Of course, now he liked me since I gave him money.

"Where's Culver's?" I asked as we walked around.

"I dunno," Michael repeated. "Google Maps!" he announced, but then he remembered that he only had an iPod. "Shoot, never mind. We have to do things the old-fashioned way."

"Ask for directions?" I offered.

"No! We look at a map."

"You're a terrible map-reader."

"I am not."

"Well, lucky for you, you have me," I said, ignoring him. "And I'm the one who's been reading a map and getting to where we need to go."

Michael stuck his tongue out at me, and I did the same back. We searched for a while until we came upon a newsstand, and I picked up a map folded like a brochure. I smoothed it out and pinpointed our location. It turned out that there weren't any Culver's nearby, but there was a local ice cream shop a couple blocks away.