Colors//m.c

Twenty Eight

      The college forms were filled out, and sent. I stared at the plaster white ceiling, proud of myself. I may not even get accepted, but I did something I never thought I would, and I was proud.

I found myself opening the closet door, just to look at my dress.

The dress I had chosen was simple. Strapless, and black, but with a skater style skirt ending at my knees, and a simple white belt in the middle. I loved it.

I knew that I could either continue staring at the damn dress, or study for finals, which I needed to do desperately.

You can guess which one I did.

The papers fanned out across my whole room, each one containing notes from different subjects. I felt enveloped, drowning in papers, and stressed. It was two in the morning, and I knew I should have been done much earlier. But I didn't want to fail.

It wasn't long before my eyelids could not keep from shutting, and before I knew it I drifted in a peaceful sleep.

-

I awoke, feeling sharp jabs on my shoulder, in between each word whoever was waking me up spoke.

"Macey." Jab.  "Wake." Jab. "The." Jab. "Fuck." Jab. "Up."

I instantly flung myself off the bed to set distance between Michael and myself.

"Michael what the actual fuck?" I shrieked, swiping at my droopy eyes, my hands coming back with black smears all over. That's what I get for not washing my face before bed.

Without explanation, he launches right into a sentence, his eyes shining.

"So I came in here to wake you up- your parents are at work- and I wanted to know if you would skip school with me today?"

He looked so happy just talking about this. I couldn't help but admire how his lips curled upwards in some sort of smile when talking, his lips as dark red as ever.

Without answering, I stooped downwards to pick up my jeans from yesterday, and walked into my cramped closet, shutting the door behind me.

"What are you doing?" Michael questions.

"Getting dressed!" My voice came out muffled, as I pulled a loose shirt over my head.

"So will you?"

I threw the closet door open to see Michael going through his bag, setting different colored tubs on my plain bed.

"Sure." I knew now was not the time to skip school. With finals just around the corner, I was knee deep in ways I probably couldn't succeed, but I said yes. I figured the I could live a little. "What are those?" I peered closer to see a pile of hair dye.

"My hair dye." He blinks rapidly.

"Did you bring your whole collection?"

"Yes."

I laugh softly, sitting on the edge of my bed, my knees touching Michael's. I couldn't help but feel all tingly just by the simple touch. I tried to ignore that, and picked up a dark purple dye, inspecting it.

"We could dye your hair? Its long enough to dye a little now. That's why I brought all this." He whispers in my ear, stretching his arms around my waist pulling me closer, while he kisses my cheek softly. I'm surprised by his sudden actions.

I turned my head, so our lips were inches apart.

"Alright."

Before I knew it, he moves his head closer, and our lips attach, my pale chapped ones, connected to his dark ones. I don't know why I felt this way, maybe it was because we had no parental supervision, but I wanted more.

The kiss became heated fast, his tongue slipping into my mouth, as he leaned back into my bed, knocking the hair dye onto the floor. I ignore the loud thuds and run my hands through his hair, tugging softly at the ends. I only pulled away to catch my breathe, and was reminded of how horrible our first kiss was. Underwater. Really? It was hard to believe that this kiss was so great, when that one not so much.

His hands run up and down my sides, tugging at my shirt gently, and I pull away, breathing heavily.

"We better go." I pant, sensing my red cheeks.

"Yeah."

-

-

  I hold one hand on my plastic covered head, trying to stop the wind from messing it up. I steal a glance at Michael, seeing he looks equally as funny with a cap on, in his truck.

It was one of those odd moments you can't recreate. You feel young, and silly. And happy. With an annoyingly pop sounding song on the radio, and the windows down as you drive down a mostly abandoned road. Everything was, for once, alright.

Michael insisted we dropped off a box of brochures at a doctors office, for his dad, while we waited to finish dyeing our hair.

So I tagged along, and smiled happily as one of Michael's hands were slipped in mine, our long fingers intertwined, and his other on the steering wheel while he talked about a band he liked. I admired how his unique eyes shined whilst a smile danced upon his lips as he talked, one of his fingers stroking the back of my hand. Just looking at him reminded me of how horrible I looked. With makeup smears on my face, and eyes swollen from sleep, and a ridiculous cap on my head.

"We are here!" Michael announces, grabbing a brown box from his truck and getting out. I followed him inside the doctors office, already missing his touch.

Inside the doctors office, it was air conditioned (thank god) and varying shades of green and blue. I'm sure Michael and I looked like freaks with our caps as we walked to the front window, to hand the receptionist their new brochures.

"Hi," I say shyly, as Michael scoots the box through the window.

"Hello!" The bright lipped receptionist cheers, smiling.

We bid our farewells, but as we turned around to leave we were called back.

"What?" Michael asks, itching his scalp through the bag.

"Here you guys go!" The lady is peeling the tape off the box to reveal a hundred brochures about having safe sex. She grips one with her dark painted nails, and winks as she hands me one.

Oh. My. God.

Michael bursts out laughing as we leave the building, grabbing the brochure, and peeling it open.

"There's a condom in there!" He exclaims, as I try to hide my reddened face. "Do you think we will ever use this?" He winks over dramatically at me, waving the brochure around.

"Oh my god." I groan, opening the door to his truck. Truth is, I wouldn't mind using the condom.

Michael laughs even more at that, sliding into the truck, and tucking the paper under his seat. He turns towards me, still smiling, only to peck me on the cheek.

I wondered how Michael could have such a hard time at home, with his dad. Michael was so... Perfect. He didn't deserve any of that.

His hands found his way back to mine, as he starts the engine.

-

-

so this is short I guess

Mainly a filler they are so cute aw

I literally love you all so much comment your favorite song in the whole world

((im trying to get to know you better))
so if you got a random dedication to this story that's bc I saw you comment... So yeah ily all