notifications × hood

five × back

(I am yet to edit this soz)

25th October 2010

1pm on a brisk Saturday morning is when Michael Clifford woke from his restless slumber. The day before, on Friday, he had tried to get Calum and Amelia to apologise to one another, and also hinting at them to apologise for not being sympathetic to him - but neither happened. Calum (when Michael asked him to say sorry to Amelia) told him, "She has to say it first. It wasn't all my fault, Mike!" to which Michael sighed and left the table on which Calum was sat with Blare Jay, Mitchell Pierce and Patrick McDonald. He then tried to ask Amelia to apologise to Calum, to which he was told, "Um, why should I? I did nothing wrong. He'll say it if he cares, and if not, I don't either" to which Michael repeated the action he had done when talking with Calum.

Michael had thought about it all night. His thoughts kept him awake and his dreams blurry - he couldn't let their friendship end like this. Eyes aching from fatigue, Mike pulled a dark red shirt on top of a pair of blue jeans and black Vans on his feet. He took one look in the mirror to make sure his hair looked okay before jogging upstairs, his muddy and scruffy sneakers no doubt imprinting onto the perfect white carpet. Most people's parents would screw at them for ruining such a pristine carpeted area, however in Mike's situation a) his parents never went down to his basement bedroom, and b) they have a cleaner who does all that work for them. So, Michael continued upstairs, his thoughts quieting down momentarily at the thought of breakfast at 1pm.

He thought of ways in which to bring Calum, Amelia and himself back together again, as he chewed the buttery white, lightly toasted bread with beans on it. He couldn't think of many ideas past locking the three in a room and having them talk - but he knew that they would never voluntarily go somewhere in which they knew the other one was at. Sure, Calum and Amelia were still mad at each other - but they weren't mad at him. He'd use that to his advantage.

As he placed his white, dirty dish into the already full sink - an idea struck him. He'd seen countless films and read countless books about tricking people into meeting each other, so why not try that? He removed his brick Nokia phone out of his back jean pocket and texted both Amelia and Calum. His short fingers clicking the wrong key too many times for his liking, causing him so kick the sleek white cabinet under the sink.His anger towards his brick phone was truly real: everyone at school laughed at him because of it. He told them all that he had such a lame phone because he thought that the iPhone was over rated and that he still wanted to, in his words, stay classic. Of course this was not the truth, in fact the reason for Michael's ownership of such a terrible phone was not up to Mike - but his parents. They had told him that he was too young to get a phone at all, and that he should wait until he was in high school to actually get one. Michael Stubborn Clifford was having none of that - so he begged and begged for weeks on end until he got one. Hey, at least he had a phone.

Finally, after much anger and cursing at his phone, Michael finished the texts:

to: amelia shelia

hey i miss u. come over tonite @ 6 n we can hav a movi nite x

to: small eyes

bro i miss u. cme over tonit so we cn hav a movi nite @ 6

And with the final texts send, Michael went down into his cave to plan how exactly he was going to save their friendship.

⚛⚛⚛

Calum Hood lay, panting, on the cold grass of his backyard - topless. Even in Autumn, Calum found any excuse to be shirtless, much to his neighbour's delight. In his hands, he held a worn out soccer ball that he had been kicking around and shooting into his goal at the end of the yard, moments ago and in his back pocket sat his brand new iPhone 4, waiting for a text from Amelia.