"So you finished school?" Michael mumbled and looked down at his cup of tea, pulling his sleeves over his hands and tucking them around the warm mug.
I nodded and leant back in the leather booth, my hands wrapped around my mug tightly to try and keep me warm. It had turned bitterly cold since the rain had started and I was already shivering in my soaked T-shirt.
"Yeah. Passed most of my exams." I lied and smiled, pushing my fringe off of my face, the wet strands of hair irritating my eyes. I desperately needed a hair cut.
I became preoccupied with the warm mug of tea and the thoughts of my much needed trim, but Michael's next question instantly snapped me out of my daydream.
"So what college are you going to?" He asked and I quickly looked at him.
He had the collar of his denim jacket tucked up by his ears and his hair was starting to stick up in all directions as it dried. He raised his eyebrows.
"I'm not." I shrugged and looked out of the window, sipping my tea and sighing.
"Your not?" He frowned and I just shook my head, staring at the trees outside, watching them battle the gale force winds.
"Why?" He asked and I sighed in annoyance, turning to face him.
"Why does it matter? You're not going to college?" I shrugged and sipped my tea again. It was terrible to be honest but it was warm. And a distraction.
"That's different. I have a job." Michael scoffed.
"Fuck off. You don't have a job." I laughed and Michael frowned.
"Sorry Ebony.. Is it that hard to believe?" He huffed and I just laughed, nodding.
"No one in their right mind would hire you. You're useless." I shrugged. Michael continued to frown at me as he sipped his coffee.
"So where is it?" I sighed after a minute of his childish pout. He mumbled his answer incoherently before sipping his coffee again, pulling a face and pushing the cup away from him.
"Michael.." I sighed and he rested his head on his folded arms on the table, looking up at me. "I'm working for that rich kids family from your school. Can't remember the name." He shrugged.
"So you're like a maid?" I teased and he rolled his eyes, fighting a smile.
"You'd love to see me in a little maids outfit wouldn't you?" He shot back and I shrugged, smirking.
"I wouldn't mind it."
"I'm teaching their daughter to play guitar." He shrugged and played with his hands, looking out of the window. I'd had no idea if he still even played until now.
"So you still play?" I smiled slightly and he nodded.
"Yeah. I had lessons when we moved. Eventually got pretty good I guess. Did some exams." He mumbled. "What about you?"
I sighed and shrugged.
"We couldn't afford proper lessons, but I kept playing. Still the same guitar. Never done an exam. Nothing interesting to say." I smiled slightly.
Michael smiled and got up, walking off the the counter again. I sighed and rested my head in my hand, watching the storm approaching. I loved storms, whenever it rained I'd sit outside my bedroom window on the roof, just watching and getting soaked. My phone rang in my pocket, snapping me out of my haze. I sighed and pulled it out, reading the display and opening the text from my mum, just asking if we were safe. I quickly replied as Michael returned.
"I have a plan."
YOU ARE READING
Band tees and Hair dye. (Michael Clifford)
Hayran KurguMy first word was Mackle. Yes. Mackle. And until I was three years old that's what I called him. My best friend. I was almost two when he said his first word. Ebwy. That's me. Well, that's what Michael called me until he was five years old. Im almos...
