Picture: Jared - >
*
I stepped into the street, dodging the cars as I did so. I had always loved crossing the roads in London, for some strange reason. The angry drivers always beeped and cursed when you got in the way, and I always got a thrill out of that.
On the other side of the road Declan and Amber were ushering me over with their flailng arms.
"Okay, okay. What's so important that you made me leave my laptop all by itself?" I asked, as I stepped within hearing distance.
They waited until I was on the pavement before they replied, "Declan's moving up north and my parents are moving to America, so I'm leaving, too."
"What? No. You can't both go."
"We don't have a choice in the matter," Lucas said. "We're leaving in ten minutes."
"What? No," I repeated.
There was a busker stood ten feet away playing an electric guitar. The noise failed to blast through a small amplifier the guy had set up, but at least he knew how to actually play. For just a moment I drifted out of my body and was stood within reaching distance of the guy playing. Jumbled chords and melodies drifted from the strings, his hands moving with fluidity across the neck. He suddenly turned the volume dial to full blast and pounded his hand down across all of the strings, startling me out of my daydream.
My eyes crept open and were met with the harsh sunlight pouring through the window. In the next room, behind the paper-thin walls, Jackson was already up, rocking out on his guitar.
"That explains the dream," I mumbled to myself before pulling back the covers and forcing myself down the hall and into the bathroom. Once there my reflection made me jump. My hair was backcombed and sticking up in every direction. I tilted and turned my head to get a better view of the knotted mess, but soon realised that it wasn't going to magically disappear.
I turned the dial to the shower and shoved my head under, enjoying the warm water as it ran down my body. I quickly shampooed, conditioned and lathered soap over my body before drying and getting dress. I shoved on a pair of faded blue jeans that were violently ripped at the knees and a white Blink 182 t-shirt I had picked up a few weeks ago.
Jackson had given up on his guitar and headed out to buy another bottle of milk, and I found myself sat in the cosy living room. A steaming mug of coffee was nestled in the palm of my hands, the warmth radiating into my hands. I had yet to see Melissa this morning. The house seemed fairly empty considering only three people lived in it.
Reaching forward I snatched the remote from the coffee table that was supporting my feet. I leaned back whilst turning the TV on and began flicking through the channels. After nothing really caught my attention, I settled on a Disney Channel show; Good Luck Charlie.
Halfway through the watching Melissa accompanied me on the sofa. I shifted over a bit more to keep the distance between us. I took in her appearance to see that her face wasn’t caked in make up, and she was actually was clean. she had a silk robe wrapped round her body as she tucked her feet underneath herself. She looked a lot better without the make up than she did with it on.
“I don’t like you,” Melissa told me bluntly.
"I don't like you, either."
“Touché.”
"Douché."
She rolled her eyes at my immaturity. “If it was my decision, you wouldn’t even be here,” She spat at me.
YOU ARE READING
Bite My Tongue
Teen FictionDakota Parker - bad girl. Or at least, that's what people thought when they heard her name. After yet another ordeal at school, her mum decides she's had enough. With Dakota spiralling out of control, she is shipped off to stay with her brother in t...
