5SOS One-Shots

Michael-Good Girls

(Based off the 5SOS song, Good Girls.)

 

 

Michael's POV:

 

I sighed, exhausted, as I shut my locker, turning to head down the hall to the doors outside. The halls were mostly empty, all the students already gone for the day. As I opened the doors to the parking lot, I noticed Allison sitting on a bench by the doors with the new French exchange student. I could hear them talking in low voices, in French. I vaguely remember hearing somewhere that Allison spoke French. I wasn't surprised; Allison was basically a genius. We'd known each other casually since elementary school, and she never ceased to surprise me with how smart she was.

 

She glanced up as the French student walked toward the parking lot and gave me a smile. “Hey, Michael,” she greeted me.

 

“What's up, Allison?” I asked. “Waiting for your dad?”

 

“Yeah, he's late,” she said with a shrug. “As usual.”

 

“You need a ride?” I offered.

 

“Oh, I don't want to impose,” she responded quickly. “I mean, if you're going somewhere and I'm out of your way, then—”

 

“Allison,” I interrupted, shifting the backpack on my shoulders. “We've lived next door to each other for years. You're literally in between the school and my house. Come on.” I nodded her over and started toward my motorcycle.

 

“If you're sure,” she murmured as she stood. She followed me across the parking lot to my black and red bike. “Oh, right, you have a motorcycle,” she said slowly.

 

“Is that going to be an issue?” I asked, just as slowly.

 

“It's just, my dad might not exactly approve of this...” Allison bit her lip as she pulled out her phone and put it to her ear. A moment later, “Hey, Daddy, it's me.”

 

I tried not to roll my eyes at a senior calling her father Daddy. I got out my bike helmet and slid it over my head.

 

“No, it's okay, Michael offered me a ride home,” she told her father. “Yeah, on his bike....Are you sure?”

 

I raised my eyebrows at her. She smiled back.

 

“Thanks, Daddy. I love you. See you tonight!” She put her phone back in her backpack and looked at me. I held out my spare helmet for her; she took it gingerly.

 

“Hop on, love,” I told her, patting the seat behind me after climbing on.

 

“Thank god I'm wearing pants,” she mumbled, clipping the helmet strap under her chin and stepping to the bike. Slowly, she threw a leg over the seat keeping a good distance between her and I.

 

“Are you trying to fall off or something?” I asked her. She looked blank. I reached behind me, grabbed her thighs, and pulled her into me. She gasped. I laughed as I took her arms and wrapped them around my waist. “There. Now you'll be safe. Hold on tight, Alli.”