Band tees and Hair dye. (Michael Clifford) Chapter two.

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I crossed another day off of the calendar, pinned up next to my bed. I put the pen down and looked at the date circled in red ink. 3 days now.

Every time I thought about how close it was my stomach flipped. Of course I was excited to see Michael. I was just scared too. It had been five years. God knows what he'd be like now!

I pulled on a pair of jeans and a tshirt, putting my guitar into its case and grabbing my shoes, walking downstairs.

"Mum, I'm going to Mr.Davids'." I called and sat on the bottom step, tying my shoelaces and getting up.

"Okay, be back for lunch!" She called and I walked out of the front door, slinging the guitar case onto my back and heading down the road to Mr,Davids'.

Mr.David had started teaching me and Michael to play guitar when we were both 5. Karen, Michael's mum, bought him a guitar for his birthday. A fender sunburst cutaway acoustic. It was amazing. Of course I wanted one too so for my birthday I got a guitar identical to his.

Mr.David lived down the road from us and after he heard us boisterously strumming the instruments to any available tune he offered to teach us for free.

I knocked on the battered oak door, waiting for an answer. After a minute of silence I knocked again. Still no answer. After a third knock I retreated back into my house. I leant my guitar against the wall at the bottom of the stairs and picking up the phone, dialed Mr.David's number. After three rings it went silent and I put the phone down. He must have forgotten again.

I walked back upstairs and put my guitar down, slumping in the leather office chair,  abandoned in the middle of my room. A pen and a notebook, tossed on the floor at some point in the past week, caught my eye and I dragged it across the carpet with my foot before picking it up and opening to a blank page.

4 pages of scrawled notes and 47 minutes later and a song was beginning to form on the lined white pages. I turned back to the first page and smiled, scribbling a title, purely for my own satisfaction. Anxiety.

"Hurry up Ebwy!" Mikey giggled, stumbling countless times before coming to a stop, doubling over and breathing heavily, watching me finally approach from behind. I giggled breathlessly as I knocked him over, lying in the long grass next to him. We both folded our arms behind out heads as the clouds retreated from the placid blue stretch of sky, topping the perfect view, our chests rising and falling heavilly in sync. It didn't take long for us both to catch our breath and when my heart finally began to beat steadily Mikey was already up and beginning to run. "Last one to the trees looses!"

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