Once I had finished cleaning up the table, I grabbed my bag and quickly skipped out. Most of the croud had dissapated, though some little groups giggling excitedly along the street. I could just barely decode the frantic chatter.
"Did you see his hair?!"
"He's so tall in person."
"Oh, I ship them much!"
"He's got a nice ass, hasn't he?"
I laughed and continued home.
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Now, when I say 'home', I really mean a shitty little apartment with two rooms and one bathroom. And three girls. Two of which aren't that keen on sharing. I sighed and climbed the stairs. The paint on our door was chipped and faded, the numbers rusted. From outside, you could here Sarah blasting her music. I jiggled the door handle and forced it open with my shoulder, causing me to stumble slightly. I dropped my bag and slipped my shoes off before nearly choking to death from the smoke.
"Jesus, Hannah! No cigarettes inside. And Sarah. Turn it down. It's amazing you two aren't deaf yet." I grumbled.
Hannah, who was lounging on the couch smoking, dragged herself up and walked out to the balcony. Sarah emerged from the kitchen and turned the stereo down. Our living room, dinning room, and kitchen were basically one room, only divided by a small counter.
Sarah is tall, skinny, and painstakingly oblivious to her own good looks. She was your all-American blonde-hair, blue-eyed beauty. She was smart and knew how to do alot on her own. her parents had neglected her when she was growing up and she was more than willing to come with me to England when I had offered. She just wanted something new. Now, She attends the university with me.
Hannah is something else entirely. The only reason she came with Sarah and I was because she said she was our "Baby-sitter". Honesty, there was nothing left for her back home. At one point, she had had a lot going for her. Now, she flipped burgers for a living. She wasn't bad looking, with her green eyes and mess of curly hair. But, stress and sadness had aged her. She looked older than 19, that's for sure.
We all met in elementary school. From the day we met, we were inseperable. Mostly because they dragged me along with whatever shananigans they were pulling. And I, being the teachers pet, would always get them out of trouble. After all, no one would suspect that little Briana would ever do anything bad.
These titles stuck with us throughout high school. Them get thrown into jail for underaged drinking or vandalism, and I bailing them out. They did this shit because no one would care. Until I came along.
So now, here we are.
"So," I called out, "I got a job."
"Congrats." Hannah called from outside.
"And, I got a phone number." I smiled dreamily.
They both grinned and dragged me to the coutch.
"Who is he?"
"How did you meet?"
"Is he cute?"
"Are you going to call?"
"Is he cute?"
"Alright, hold on!" I said, laughing. "I literally just met him."
"Well," Hannah said slowly, taking a drag from her cigarette "What do you know about him?"
Good question.
"His name is Niall." I recalled.
"Annnd?" Sarah asked impatiently.
"He's irish."
"Okay. I like where this is going..." Hannah said.
"Wait!" Sarah interupted. "Is he, or is he not, cute?"
"He's so beautiful!' I groaned, slamming my face into the pillow next to me. They both giggled.
I raised my head and looked out onto the balconey and groaned again.
"What the fuck is that?" I asked.
Hannah grinned pridefully, exhaling some smoke.
"That," She said, gesturing grandly to it. "is my baby."
"How did you get it up here?"
She shrugged.
A motercycle.
"Can you even drive that thing?" I asked warily.
"Of course!" She answered. I shrugged and walked into the kitchen where Sarah was washing the dishes. She dropped a soapy fork and leaned over to grab it, her hair shifting over her shoulder.
"What the fuck is that?!"
"Oh," She said, looking over her shoulder at the slightly red new tattoo. "Do you like it?"
"How did you have money for that?" I implored
"I know people." She winked.
"Shut up, you two!" Hannah called. "I love this song!"
Arctic Monkeys' "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" blared through the radio. We all danced and sang along. As badass and mean and hard these girls looked, I really loved them.
"You're both rediculous." i muttered happily, heading down the hall that was overflowing with boxes and entering my room. Because all of us lacked the skill to build a bed, my room was just a matress, my radio, a box of C.D.'s, and a little table. I flopped down on my 'bed' and pulled Niall's number out of my pocket. Placing it safely on my bedside table, I rolled over and fell asleep.
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I am so sorry. Like, you guys have no idea. I feel like i really neglected this story. Oh, well. I've got a three day weekend so, we'll see what that gets us.
And Briana,
You lucky, math test-missing, Choir-skippig, movie-watching bitch.
enjoy.
-Your (very jealous) best friend
