Call Me Crazy || Michael Clifford

2 || Silly String

Is it bad that I already like these guys? They all seem so cool and easy to be around. They aren't like my friends back home because I haven't been able to get in with the rebels there. That Michael guy caught my eye probably more than the others. Granted, the others were attractive, but I could feel this weird tension between us as he walked me to homeroom. We made small talk luckily. It wasn't that big. There isn't much to go on and he did well with barely anything.

"So what name does your mum want you to go by?" he asked as we began our trek to homeroom.

I huffed raking my hand through my hair. "She wants Tammy which is absolutely hideous in my opinion." (sorry for anyone named Tammy, it's just for the story)

Michael looked surprised at me as he tried to avoid a line of jocks hogging the halls. One of them tried to check him but missed him just enough to get this kid right behind us. "Why do you think that?"

"It's just so basic and I hate basic." It was subtle, but I could see his gaze flick down to the floor for a moment. "Sorry if that came out harsh."

"No, no!" he rushed. "That's your opinion and your entitled to that. Are you only talking name-wise or. . . "

Subconsciously I kicked myself making it seem like I hate basic names. He probably thinks I don't like his name. God, and I thought we were getting to be friends at least. "I just mean I hate basic on me. I'm not into being anything cookie-cutter if I can avoid it."

"Tammy doesn't sound cookie-cutter to me. Haven't heard that name at all, actually."

"Yeah well I like my middle name better, but if not that then my middle nickname."

"Middle nickname?"

"Yeah. My middle name is Bambalina but my big sister gave me the nickname of Bambi."

"Huh," he replied intrigued. He pulled on me to turn a corner with him. I almost ended up hitting a vending machine face-first, but Michael pulled me away from that. Nervously I laughed just as we headed into a classroom.

Already there were a few people looking our way. Eyes hardened on me. My jaw clenched with unease feeling their gazes watch me take a seat close to the back with Michael.

"Hey," he whispered. "Don't worry about it. We're getting out of here soon anyways."

I nodded pulling out my phone. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I just absentmindedly opened up Sudoku.

"Good morning, students!" I heard over the intercom. No one seemed to be paying attention and I tried to blur it out. "Welcome back to another exciting year at Berkeley High! Now I do want to address that the dress code will be more enforced this year. Due to the events of last year, sleeves will be required for all shirts and dresses. . . "

It went on for a while boring me and everyone else in the school, I'm sure.

Beside me Michael was psst-ing at me like a child. With a cocked brow, I glanced up at him. "Wanna listen to music?" I nodded not having anything else to do. He gave me an earbud and I watched him pressed play on the screen.

I recognized the song as "American Idiot" by Green Day: a song I haven't listened to since I was small. I thought it was kinda funny and thoughtful for him to play this. Even as a kid I was into the punk rock music and I still am, but it's a dying art which breaks my heart. Music in this day and age is getting less and less real with all of the technology we have. Whatever happened to the shred of a guitar instead of a huge techno instrumental in place of a chorus?