Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

1. The Concert

If you enjoy reading my story, and would like a sequel, please show some love by voting, and leave some comments telling me your thoughts about the story so far!

♡

Do you ever have those days? You know. Those days where even the smallest occurrences lead you to something so monumental and you don't even know how or why you got there. Where something so fleeting could change your life in the most astounding way possible. For me it was simple. Girl meets boy. But I'm sure you can imagine that my story isn't so simple. Girl didn't meet a boy, she meets the boy. Still following? Because it's about to get so much more complicated. I should probably start right from the beginning...

Shoes... shoes... Where did I leave my stupid shoes!

"There you are!" I gasp, as I snatch them from underneath my bed. I'm running late again and Scarlett is going to absolutely kill me! I've regretfully become a night owl lately from my inability to sleep during normal hours. In the time that regular people would be fast asleep, I would find myself searching endlessly at random things online. And when I say random, I mean watching one YouTube video and then every other suggested video linked to it. Facebook is also quite lethal. One minute you're looking at photos of a friend's trip in Europe, and it all starts out as harmless browsing, but you know you've gone too deep when you've found their second cousin's dog's Instagram. Because I may be a harmless stalker at times, but at least I didn't dedicate an Instagram account for a dog.

Oversleeping on the day of the The Lumineers concert was not exactly in my best interest, and as mentioned earlier, Scarlett was going to kill me. She's usually late, so if I added any additional time to that, we'd pretty much miss the opening act. Planning my outfit is what I should have done on my sleepless night, but apparently my priorities lay elsewhere. I quickly throw on maroon denim short shorts along with an oversized band singlet of a band that I can proudly admit I know all the words to their songs. I take a quick glance in the mirror, and I'm feeling a little incomplete. Grabbing a checkered shirt from the floor, I tie it around my waist, and take a second look. No, definitely not. What am I thinking? Terrible idea Ava! I instead choose on a vintage denim button up shirt that I "borrowed" from my dad's closet, and conveniently never returned. Knowing Melbourne's weather, that shirt would be inevitably handy, and I tell myself that Dad wouldn't want me to catch a cold in such an unpredictable climate. Hardly convincing even myself, I quickly apply my make up, and I begin to have second thoughts on my outfit. No time to change - I'm late enough as it is.

I jump in the car and zip over to Scarlett's house where she's perched beside the letterbox, hand on hip. I know better enough to know that her effortless "Greta Garbot" casually elegant lean shouldn't fool me into thinking she's forgotten the time - If looks could kill, I'd be a dead a million times over! She gets in my car and I can feel the frustration seeping out of her very pores.

"Where have you been Ava Rose?" she asks in a stern voice.

Uh oh. My middle name - now I know I'm in trouble.

"It's fine Scarlett." I assure her, drawing out the word 'fine' for longer than necessary. "I really think you're overreacting. I didn't mean to sleep in. And besides, it doesn't start for like another hour!"

She applies her trademark red lipstick in the vanity mirror of my car and when finished she seems to have calmed a little. She connects my phone to the car's bluetooth system and begins the playlist of with "Ho, Hey!" which seems to ease any tension left behind while we exaggeratedly over sing.

Scarlett, I should mention is my most nearest and dearest friend. As sad as it is to admit, she's probably one of my only good friends I've kept since leaving high school. I had many friends throughout my school years, though fortunately I wasn't naive enough to actually believe the "we're going to stay best friend's forever" bullshit with the others. All surface and no substance. Scarlett was different though. She's the kind of friend who acts like your house is her house. The kind of friend who helps herself to food, annoys your older brother, and hogs the TV remote. That kind of friend.