This Year's Love // Michael Clifford

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Brittany Dawson

Three Months Later

"People help the people. And if you're homesick, give me your hand and I'll hold it. People help the people. And nothing will drag you down. Oh, and if I had a brain. Oh, and if I had a brain. I'd be cold as a stone and rich as the fool that turned all those good hearts away," the famous Cherry Ghost (more commonly known for the cover by Birdy) song strolled from my mouth as I strummed the guitar to an end.

Claps resounded throughout the small cafe, familiar and nonfamiliar faces surrounding me. I thanked the crowd, then stepped down and allowed the next act to take the stage. I swam through the crowd, searching for a familiar somebody, finally reaching them.

"You made it." I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Of course," he replies, leaning down and pecking my lips. "I had to be here for my girlfriend's final gig."

"Well, aren't you so romantic?" I joke, kissing him again.

"I am," he says.

"Evan! Brittany!" someone shouts and I instantly recognize the voice of my best friend.

"Rebecca Marie Corman, you better have a damn good reason for being late," I scold her jokingly.

"I wasn't late!" she chimes. "I was going pee and I just missed your last song."

"Bitch," I tease, tackling her in a hug. "I've fucking missed you."

Becca had gone on tour with Calum for the entire month of September and the beginning of October. Now, at the end of October, she's come back for my final gig before I went on tour (as an opening act for Amanda Ray, a soulful, indie vocalist).

"I missed you, too. Now get off me," she laughs, shoving me off.

"So are we going back to the apartment for drinks?" I ask. "Evan bought a shitload of alcohol in honor of tonight."

"Hell yes," my best friend chants.

///////

"Have you talked to Michael?" Becca asks.

We were lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as we caught up. We each had a wine cooler in our dominant hand, occasionally drinking from it.

"No," I answer monotonously.

"He has been really down, you know," she informs me.

"I don't give a shit. It was his choice, not mine," I resentfully reply.

"Do you ever think to text him? Or call him?" she wonders.

"Sometimes," I admit, "and then I remember what an asshole he was, so, again, not my problem."

"He loves you, Brittany."

I scoff, "Bullshit."

"He really does," she whispers.

"Why are you picking his side over mine?" I offensively question.

"I'm not picking a side," Becca sighs. "I just don't want you to make the wrong choice."

"Michael made the wrong choice for me," I state, getting up and leaving her in my room alone, downing the rest of my wine cooler.

"I got most of the stuff cleaned up, babe," Evan says, tying a trash bag.

I wrap my arms around his neck and smash my lips to his. I forcefully push my tongue into his mouth, swirling mine with his. I tug his hair, causing him to let out a throaty groan.

"Babe," he mutters, pulling away a bit.

"Hmm?" I hum, kissing his jaw, then his neck.

"Stop."

"Why?" I giggle, nibbling on his neck.

"Because this isn't you. What's wrong?" He pushes me away.

I stare at him with eager eyes. "Nothing. I just want to make-out with my boyfriend."

"No, something is wrong. Tell me," Evan responds.

"Nothing is wrong Evan. Fuck! I won't be seeing you for, like, six months. I just want to kiss you," I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What happened with you and that guy?" he asks out of nowhere.

I narrow my eyes at him. "What guy?"

"That Michael guy. I could hear you and Becca talking," he replies.

"You were eavesdropping?" I raise an eyebrow.

"No, you both just talk extremely loud. And your apartment is tiny," he says.

"Nothing happened with Michael," I state.

"Something happened."

"No. That's just it - nothing happened," I clarify.

"Do you love him?"

"What? No!" I exclaim. "We were just friends. Now we're nothing. He's nobody to worry about."

"I wasn't worried."

"Then why did you bring him up?"

"Why are you getting defensive?"

"Why aren't you jealous?" I shoot back.

"Brittany," Evan sighs.

"What, Evan?"

"If you love him, then I think you should be with him. Not me," he says.

I stare at him, shocked. "I don't love him, Evan."

"But you have feelings for him," he states.

"No, I..." I find myself trailing off. "I don't love him," I repeat, not sure if I was trying to convince Evan or myself.

"I'm gonna to go," Evan says.

"What? Why?" I perk.

"You have to wake up early for your flight and I'm tired. Call me when your flight lands."

He lightly kisses my cheek, totally ignoring my reach for his lips. In seconds, he's out the door, leaving me to my thoughts and mixed emotions.

Three months. I went three months without caring about what Michael did or how he made me feel. Then, all of a sudden, my boyfriend brings him up. My boyfriend, of all people.

"Brittany?" Becca calls, entering the room with an empty wine cooler in her hand. "Where's Evan?"

"He, um, left," I answer. "I'm gonna go to bed. I have to wake up early."

"Okay, night," she says softly.

"Night," I reply, trekking to my room.

///////

Amanda isn't a made up character. She's a girl I promised a special part to in my story! You know who you are, bae. ;)

Okay, so don't be mad! I promise you'll see them together very soon. Within the next, say, two or three chapters. I'm sorry for the long wait! School fucking sucks and I don't have time to write hardly because I'm always too tired to.

I was looking at colleges and shit today and I'm so scared. Like... college is only less than two years away for me. That's scary as fuck, man. I'm going to Mizzou probably, so if you're thinking of going there, hit me up!

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