Reconcile

s e v e n

[Gif Above: Hannah Montgomery] (Chloë Grace Moretz) 

I wasn't exactly sure as to how David's father would react to a handful of teenagers almost getting themselves killed in Heather's mother's van. In which was currently still placed on the side of the road, having yet to be picked up. Heather claiming that she would be forced to retrieve it tomorrow by her mother. The keys to the vehicle currently placed in her Jean pocket.

But, David's dad was actually alarmingly cool. The dark haired man merely shaking his head with a chuckle, mumbling, "Don't worry, it happens." Whereas my father would scold me viciously, questioning as to why I was this irresponsible. Probably getting grounded for a couple of decades.

As of right now, the four of us (excluding David and his father), were crushed breathlessly in the back of a miniature Toyota. David getting the grace of being placed in the passenger seat, all while the remainder of us suffered in the back. But, hey, if it's a free ride home I'll willingly take it.

In my current awkward position, I was uncomfortably smushed in between Amber and Heather. Nick was luckily equipped with a window seat, as was Amber. But, Heather and I were fatefully thrown in the middle. My shoulder practically lodged into Amber's side, a permanent scowl drawn on her face.

Heather was still obviously upset with the whole David and Amber situation. Her eyes continuously glued onto the disheveled floor of the Toyota, and she refused to make eye contact with absolutely anyone.

As for Nick, his face was contorted in deep thought. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, me believing that it was due to Amber and his sudden separation. The expression was mere, yet it was enough to make my heart mysteriously flutter. Causing me to constantly accuse myself of loosing my absolute sanity.

To make this entire situation even more uncomfortable, a depressing Taylor Swift song was echoing softly from the radio. Mr. Mitchell hilariously humming along to the tune, his head rocking back and forth occasionally.

"So," Began David's father, igniting light conversation, "how's school going for you all?"

Obviously not too thrilled with the small talk, we all lazily hummed in unison. My head unconsciously falling backwards, all while my gaze left me to stare at the bland ceiling.

"Do you guys have a favorite subject?" He pressed, not getting the clear memo that we were all beyond exhausted. The small red light at the front of the vehicle, in which indicated the time, reading 2:37am, "I always enjoyed Science."

I unnoticeably scoffed, me really not taking enjoyment to any of my classes. None of them were even remotely fun, nor were they tolerable. I even despised the short break we had after lunch. For, it required somewhat of socialization and effort. Two things I utterly hate and do not have.

It was deathly silent for a few all too long seconds, Amber soon taking a large sigh of frustration, before playing along with Mr. Mitchell's game of twenty questions.

"I presume English is the easiest for me." She nodded, turning timidly towards the three of us, awaiting our answer.

"I enjoy English as well." I added, watching as Amber pressed her lips into a thin line, "Not as much the reading part, mainly the writing and creativity involved."