✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

50: Fences

"Whoa? Whoa, what?" Calum squeaked. I could hear a chuckle from the other side of the door as he continued, "do you look like shit? You look like shit, don't you? Ashton! You owe me pizza!"

"Really?! Awe man!" Ashton's disappointed-laced voice was muffled from the other end of the basement.

Scoffing, I jerked open the bathroom door to glare at Calum with pursed lips and a snarky disposition. Rolling my eyes at the boy who could pass as my cousin, I crossed my arms above my chest before shaking my head in disapproval.

"Did you really bet a box of pizza that my new hair color would make me look like shit?" I reiterated the so-called wager made between my two best friends. "You guys are asswipes, you know that?"

I did let out a laugh because the situation was hilarious to me- this type of boyish shenanigans were normal between the two and I couldn't actually be mad about it.

"I don't owe you anything Hood," Ashton suddenly chimed in with a surprised expression on his face. He approached the two of us in awe, his dimples showing from either sides of his cheeks. "Dude! Your hair looks pretty rad."

"You think so?" I took a strand of my wet hair in between my fingers to inspect it. "I forgot what I looked like with my natural hair color."

"I got so used to the dark red that it seemed like you were born with the color," Ashton mentioned, "but the black isn't bad at all. It kind of reminds me of when we were all young and innocent."

"Yea, when we didn't give any flying fücks about anything," Calum added.

"We still don't give flying fücks about anything," Michael yelled from across the room, prompting us all to chuckle at his statement. "But seriously," my newly bald-headed friend continued, taking a stroll towards us, "I miss those days. When the only issues we had were being on separate teams in P.E. class."

"Or having to be home before the streetlights came on," Ashton reminisced.

"And to think, in three months we'll be done with high school then after that we'll all be doing our own thing," I shuddered the thought of our imminent fate into the real world.

"Wherever we end up, as long as we end up together, that's all what matters any way," Calum preached with a smile.

"Aw, guys," I mused, theatrically placing a hand to my heart and pouting from the sudden burst of mushiness. "Can we all bring this into a group hug?"

Without another word, the boys and I immediately embraced each other with tight hugs. I buried my head into their chests, sighing with a smile they couldn't see but could be felt through my hug. It felt familiar and I didn't want this feeling to ever disappear.

"Are we done being cute?" Michael suddenly asked. "Because there's still more pizza."

I looked up at my friend, my arms still wrapped protectively around the group.

"You've eaten like eight slices already," I pointed out with an incredulous grin. "Aren't you nervous that you'll lose your hot bod?"

"Oh, so you think my body is hot?" Michael teased, wiggling his eyebrow mischievously.

"I think all your hair went to your ego," I retorted, sass dripping from my words.

"Whatever dude. I'm just going to burn it off at dance practice tomorrow," Michael justified, shaking his hips playfully. "I may not remember who shot me, but I do remember how to bust a move."

"Ugh, stop. Don't remember how to dance, please!" Calum's expression morphed over dramatically, shaking his head and putting a hand up towards Michael's suggestive gyration.