paramore // fivesauce

0.2

// chapter two //

talia's pov

+++

i grumble as i slam my locker shut, my history books in tow. i just got back from the excruciating period of maths class and there is only one thing i've learned: mr. landon won't let you get away with haphazardly-done-in-the-morning algebra homework. i sighed as i recalled him lecturing me in front of the whole class. that was mortifying.

'what's up, lia?' i hear my friend, alice, say from beside me. i grunt in reply.

'whoa,' my other friend, clarisse, exaggeratedly exclaims from the my other side. 'what crawled up your ass this morning?' i hear alice hush clarisse when a teacher passed us by, giving clar a knowing look.

it was so cliche, having two best friends that were polar opposites. but i guess a cliche life is what i deserve for having a world-famous older sibling.

 ali was a short blonde girl with a sunny disposition, and a love for my brother's band. i've seen her bedroom, which was covered with posters and tickets from previous 5sos concerts that she's attended. she still couldn't get over the fact that i was related to the calum hood, even though she's known cal even before his career took off. but she's always had a certain liking for luke, and i slightly despise her for that, because the feeling was mutual for me. it's always been a competition for us: who could get a 'hello' faster from luke; who could get luke to laugh first, things like that. it was easier for me, because calum was my brother, so luke was at our house almost everyday when they weren't touring. but it was also easy for ali because she was very attractive.

and then there's clar. she was slightly taller than ali and i (clar stood at 5' 5''), with a demeanor like a tiger; she was tough. you don't mess with clarisse morton, and that was a rule. she wasn't too fond of calum's band. she thinks, and i quote, 'they're a bunch of punk wannabes who are only famous because of their hot faces.' clar was an avid listener of edm, though. zedd, skrillex, kdrew, krewella... the works. she's been to 18+ concerts with a fake id so many times that it was almost a routine of mine to pick her up from different venues every weekend, only to find her senselessly wasted every time. i was worried about her, but every time i tried to help, she'd push me away, and claimed that she was responsible enough to fight her own battles.

'hey' clarisse snaps her fingers in front of my face.

'huh? oh sorry.'

'uh yeah.' she rolls her eyes. 'now come on. we're gonna be late for history.'

'oh right.'

alice smiles, her bright expression complementing her equally bright outfit. 'i'd better get to my art class, now. see you's at lunch?'

'yeah, sure,' i say, returning her grin.

clarisse links her arm with mine and says, 'come on!'

and we head to history class.

+three hours later+

michael: baaaabe

i pull a disgusted face at my phone screen, and flip my body over so that i was lying face-down on my bed. my fingers fly across the keyboard as i type in a reply.

me: i told you not to call me that. it's weird.

michael: but you like it ;)

me: quite the opposite, really.

michael: fine then. wyd?

me: nm. just lying down on my bed.

michael: nice. mind if i join you? ;))))