Two Wrongs h.s|a.g

Need a light?

"Ariana, get back here!" Michael screams, throwing open his bedroom door. I shove my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket, trying to keep my cool.

I was doing good with not crying until I feel a firm hand grab my arm and yank me to face the owner.

"Leave me alone! I'm not a slut and you aren't going to treat me like one." I scream and run down the stairs of his house, wiping my now wet face in the process. I slam Michael's front door and sit on the curb a couple of houses away. I pull out my pack of cigarettes and a lighter, desperate for smoke filled lungs to rid my sadness. Of course, my lighter won't ignite no matter how many times I try, and I scream, throwing it across the road.

My heart nearly leaps out of my chest when someone sits next to me, and a flame shines in front of my cigarette.

"Need a light?" a deep voice asks and I nod quickly, lighting my cancer stick.

"Thanks." I mumble and exhale a lung full of smoke, my hands still shaky.

"Do you need a lift? I don't think this is your house." The voice asks and for some reason I oblige, and he stands up. I stand up after him and follow behind his tall figure, still trying to gather myself from Michael's attack. Getting your clothes ripped off by your best friend isn't exactly heart warming.

After a few minutes he walks up to a large house, and offers to let me come inside while he gets his keys. I accept and he takes my almost gone cigarette from me, takes a drag, and flicks it into the gravel. He opens the front door and flicks a switch, allowing me to see him in the light for the first time.

He turns around and my heart nearly stops. He's quite tall, as I expected, and he has curly, dark hair. Green eyes look into mine as a smirk spreads across his pink lips.

"Like what you see?" his British accent rolls off of his tongue and I quickly collect myself.

"Didn't you mean to say that you like what you see?" I smirk back and flip my hair over my shoulder.

He shakes his head and tells me to follow him, and he guides me through a kitchen and into a garage where he grabs keys from a hook. I press the garage door button to open it and walk towards the black car, but stop when I hear a motorcycle start. I smile and turn around, walking towards him and sitting on the back of the bike.

"This is more my speed anyway." I whisper in his ear and wrap my arms around his waist as he pulls out of the garage and onto the road. Although it was difficult, I manage to give him directions to my house, and he pulls into my driveway. I hop off the motorcycle and walk away, stopping when I get to my porch.

"Thanks for the ride, curly." I say, smiling at him.

"Anytime, shorty." He responds before leaving, and I wait until I can't hear the motor of the bike anymore before going inside.

"Since when does Michael drive a motorcycle?" My mom asks the second I walk into the door. "And why did you call him curly?"

"Michael doesn't have a motorcycle, and that's wasn't Michael." I tell her as I search for a new lighter in the kitchen.

"Who was that boy then? Ariana you know how your father and I feel about this." my mom puts her hand on her hip and I laugh.

"Mom, its fine. He just saw me leaving Michael's house and offered me a ride. It's not like I'll ever see him again."

I roll my eyes as I run up my steps, locking my bedroom door behind me. It's already 11:45 when I look at the clock and by the time I finish showering it's 12:30 and I'm going to sleep.