BAD TEENAGERS✧ M.ESPINOSA

what if life? ; 25

Matt:

The day started of good, Cara and I ate the breakfast her dad prepared for us. We ate and talked, she began talking about after college.

"I think it would be fun to stay in rather..California or New York. I think New York is the best place. I might apply there. Try to convince my parents. You know?" she asked.

"yea" I nodded "I think Oregon will be good, I might apply there" I said and she nodded.

"but, you're reputation-"

"isn't a thing anymore" I cut her off and she nodded then continued eating.

"so, if we do...go to completely different states...Would you visit me?" she asked

"Cara don't be ridiculous, of course I will" I smiled and she giggled. She got up and began washing the dishes.

I set my plate on the counter then wrapped my arms around her waist and watched her. I kissed her cheek "need help?" I asked and she shook her head.

"it's only a couple, you can go to the room" she said and I nodded staying here next to her. Once she finished she turned around and hugged me. She began wiping her hands on my shirt but it didn't matter. Her hands were cold, freezing.

She kept wiping her hands on my shirt. I grabbed her hands and she looked at me I smiled and she smiled a little "what?" she asked softly. "I love everything I'm seeing. Your beautiful face, beautiful smile, beautiful eyes, your cheek bones, and your dark circles," she began laughing at what I said "those are beautiful" she said. "they aren't but you make them look fashionable" I popped my eyebrows up and she laughed.

She slid out of my hands and grabbed a water, we heard music come from upstairs and walked over to it. She her smile faded once we looked at her parents room. "he's singing to her" she said, "he used to sing that song to my mom". 

I just looked at her and she grew uncomfortable, she was didn't move from her place but she kept moving her hands in frustration. I grabbed her hand and took her to her room, she slammed the door and kicked the things on her floor. "Why would he do that?" she asked, I sat on the bed and didn't say anything. She's pissed and if I say something smart everything is cursed on me.

She sighed and I waited till she was done. Once she was I got up and hugged her, the best I can do I really don't know what to say that I mean he's singing to her mom..Step-mom, that she doesn't like at all...now I got it. 

"Do you have an aux cord?" I asked and she shook her head and pointed at her stereo, bose those things are loud. I connected mine to the stereo and began playing music. The first song was Mark Ronson valerie, it was a good song wasn't as bad as uptown funk, that song is so annoying. "Is this Amy Winehouse?" she asked and I nodded.

She began to laugh and I grabbed her hands and she looked at me weird "do you know how to do the twist?" I asked and she shook her head. I began dancing and she laughed at me, I twirled her around and then she turned I continued but this time she cooperated. She began dancing along with me, the song ended and she waited. I stopped also and sat on the bed she pouted. The music was played, and I was lip syncing the lyrics. She smiled and began carelessly dancing. She closed her eyes and began dancing. I enjoyed watching because it fit with the rhythm. 

She grabbed my hands and began twirling for a while, then she twirled us around I laughed at how careless she was. It was something I'd never seem from her. I loved seeing it. We decided to watch movies from the living room. We watched "what's eating Gilbert Grape" and "catch me if you can".

The day was a bit lazy we didn't really have things to do since it was a school week and we were.."sick". 

"sometimes I don't even want to go to college. I get annoyed hearing 'do good in school' 'it's worth it' 'your future depends on college' but really, so much pressure makes it worse for the person. No one understands, I hate school, with a passion, I hate it so much" she spoke with  our hands intertwined together, she just stared at our hands. Didn't seem to look at anything other than our hands.