I Don't Even Know ❇ malum au

1

Dedication to @skittlesmalum cause damn - malumaf - and I'm a total hoodie, ya know? ♥

"How are ya, Mikey?"

"Never been better," I lied.  I was feeling decent, only because I spent the day wondering what I should write in my book.  It was my main priority.  Though, I hadn't even gotten past the first page.  Though, as it was - the title page was looking great, so far.

I leaned back on the old couch where I sat, grimacing at the smell of the apartment.  It was filled with a smell that closely resembled that of a skunk.  Though, I knew better.

Ashton had to stay on top of the world somehow.

And if that famed way of him feeling high was to actually get high, then so be it.  I had my bestfriend, and he had his marijuana.  It worked out perfectly.

"Mmhm, I may be high as balls, but I still know you.  What's goin' on, man?"

"Eh, puberty."

Ashton laughed, slightly coughing in the process.  "You're eighteen, you bitch.  You should have done experienced all those lovely changes.  Don't lie."

I laughed myself at the way he associated with me.  Most guys would hate to be called a bitch, but I found it funny.  Mainly just because I found Ashton funny.  But I was still happy.

"What?  Am I not aloud to have hormones, fool," I defended myself and then smiled.  Ashton tilted his head to the side, looking to actually be thinking over the rhetorical question.

I knew what to say to confuse him - so I did.

The boy furrowed his brows and stuck his tongue out just a little, resembling a little kid learning their multiplication tables.  He even looked genuinely upset when he couldn't come up with an answer.

"Why do you fuck with me when I'm stoned," he whined, emphasizing just about every other word so that his sentence was strung out.  I giggled, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Because it's fun," I replied bluntly with a small squeal to my voice.  I thought that the uneven tones of my voice would've done passed by then, since I was most likely through with puberty.  I was an adolescent, not pubescent.  Or at least that's what I told myself.

"You know what else is fun?  Watching Spongebob while you're eating brownies and drinking sugar water.  Well, I've never tried it - but it sounds amazing.  Don'tcha think so, Mikey?"  He extended his arm and tapped me on the nose like old people do with babies or their grandchildren.  It was embarrassing.

I frowned and leaned back, covering my face with the sweater paws of my skull covered jacket.  "Don't do that!  It makes me feel like a little kid," I pouted.

The older boy laughed, jokingly shaking his head at me.  "But you are a wittle kid, Mikey Poo."

"Ugh, why do I have such an overbearing, grandparent-like friend?  I'm eighteen years old, geez!"

Ashton let out a laugh, more of a Wiz Khalifa worthy cackle, a childlike smile on his kinda-tan face.  He must have found it utterly funny because, he leaned back on the couch, going into a laughing fit.  He laughed so wildly that he almost fell to the dirty carpet.

"Wow," I smiled, cocking an eyebrow.  "The people I talk to."

"You know I'm funny and amazing," the boy looked at me with a dead serious expression.  He made full on eye contact with me, causing me to notice just how red and glossy his eyes appeared, the hazel color almost overtaken by his dialated pupils in each eye.

"You're something, Ashy," I shook my head in amusement.  "You sure are something."

"I'm a fucking unicorn," he replied, saying 'unicorn' with an unrealistic squeal.  He then burst into another fit of laughter, me cracking up as well.