Mute (Normani/You G!P)

*16*

Y/N

My earbuds were in my ears securely, playing my favorite music while the bus moves us to the center.

It was so quiet that I didn't need to put my music up so loud; though enough to distract me from the annoying ricketing of the opened windows.

Summer has always been brutal in Y/HT. Regardless, I keep my thin, slightly zipped, dark hoodie on. Not caring that I soaked through on to the seat.

Perspiration slid down the side of my face. I remain unbothered. I rest my damp head in the window, looking out mindlessly at the worn buildings. Covered with graffiti.

I take a deep breath, feeling the bead of sweat go down to my jaw. It irritated my flushed skin, causing to to wipe at it with the back of my hand.

My gaze continues to be on the rows of decent looking houses, exiting the barrio completely. I lift my head,the heat from the window slightly burning me. With a small eye roll, I go into my backpack and took out a, now warm, bottle of Deer Park.

I take a few sips, not really paying attention at how dry my mouth was until I had opened it.

Though, I felt as if someone was watching me. I turn around, coming in contact with child like brown eyes. It was a girl. A very small one, at that. With bright red hair. Like, I think this girl had to have been in elementary school.

Weird, since this bus was for middle schoolers and some high schoolers. I furrow my eyebrows, giving her a once over before turning back to my window.

It wasn't long before I felt that uncomfortable sting at the side of my head. I turn around again, seeing that the red head girl was still looking at me, a perfect brow raised.

Growing irritable, I take a bud out and turn my body towards her. "Need something?" She shrugs, running a hand through the crimson locks right after.

"Aren't you like...too young to be on this bus?" I say, leaning against the window and putting a leg up casually.

"Isn't it too hot to be wearing that thick ass hoodie?" She counters. Her voice caught me off guard. She doesn't sound like the eight year old she looks like. It sounded mature with enough sass in her words.

I suck my teeth, rolling my eyes. She then gets up and deftly moves to the seat in front of her; another seat before she's across the aisle from me.

I put my earbud back in, nodding my head to the nonexistent music from my dead iPod. I look off, avoiding eye contact with this girl. I admit, she's pretty, but I can already tell from our interaction, she has too much mouth on her.

I start to play a little game of 'How Many Red Cars?' when I felt someone tapping on my leg. I groan under my breath, already knowing who it is.

I take both buds out and look at her with an irritated glare, "What do you want?" She seemed unfazed by my snap, "What's your name?" She asks casually.

"Why should I tell you?" She rolls her eyes, "Quit being an asshole. I'm just trying to make nice."

"Maybe I don't wanna 'make nice'?" I challenge. She shrugs, letting a tense silence fall between us. She squints before saying, "Grande."

"Huh?" She chuckles a little, "Grande. Ariana Grande." I nod with a teasing smile, "'You're anything but, mija." She sighs, clearly annoyed. "What? I ain't obligated to tell you my name."

"Ugh, whatever," she rolls her eyes before going back to her seat.

-----

After we were assigned to a counselor and showed to our rooms, I made my way to the game room, back up MP3 in hand. Some older guys where playing fooseball, competitively, might I add. Some girls were sitting on one of the couches, talking animatedly.