"Excuse me? That was a good day? I hope you meant to say that it was a bad day. I was on crutches for two months! I couldn't do anything! And it was my birthday, so i spent the rest of the day in the hospital!
"Well, no, I know that was a bad day, but thats not what I'm saying. I'm saying that the good part was when we were in the hospital. You got to open your birthday presents in there, and thats when i gave you the necklace you're wearing now." I look down at the necklace I'm wearing. It has a gold chain, and a rose charm on it. I laugh.
"Yeah, i guess that was a good day. Now, come on, we have one more place to go," i say, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the car.
We get into the car, Chance plugs his phone into the aux chord, and puts on the song Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson. Not even a minute later, Chance rolls down his window and starts screaming along to the song. I cant help but laugh. He shoots me a smile, before screaming again. I quickly look away, trying my best to make sure my blushing goes unnoticed. I cant help it, I'm in love with my best friend. "Hey, Samantha, I know the perfect song for you to sing to," Chance says, before grabbing his phone and typing away.
My eyes leave the road for a quick second, as i glance at him. "Dude, no. I don't sing."
"But it's my birthday," he pouts. I groan and roll my eyes.
"Fine. What song?" Chance squeals like a little girl, yet again causing me to laugh. He just smiles and changes the song.The song Sign of the Times by Harry Styles comes on. "Chance, you're obsessed with Harry," I laugh.
"No, no, no. Not obsessed. Just a big fan. Now sing, I command you," he says. We both start singing.
When the song ends, Chance smiles. "Why are you smiling? What's going through your head right now? Actually, never mind, I don't think I want to know."
"Okay, that was rude, but I'm going to brush that off because I'm the better person here." I gasp and he just smiles. "Anyways, I was just thinking of what song to put on, and I thought of the song that we wrote when we were twelve." we both start laughing.
"The song we wrote about being in love when neither one of us were in love?"
"Yes, Sammie, that song," he smiles, knowing that I hate being called 'Sammie'. We stop at a red light, and I hit his arm.
