field trip :: m.c.

00. READY? RUN

Quite frankly, Michael knew he was being a little childish, a little too first-world. In his defense, he wasn't actually pissed at his best friend and he wasn't actually planning on unfollowing his Instagram either, because goddamnit, he knew how much Calum was itching to finally reach seven hundred followers.

It's just that he and Cal had come up with the perfect plan to actually invest their time in the school field trip that year to the city. Calum had been researching the museum they'd be visiting that day and ended up finding a map of the building, clearly displaying an exit through the back that led straight towards the streets of Broadway, that then led towards Downtown and all of the actually interesting places in the city. They'd planned on sneaking out the back door of the museum to wander around New York for the day, only now, they couldn't. Because Calum's stupid ass was sick and Michael was left with no one to put the dream into action with.

He would be stuck roaming around the National Museum of the American Indian all day instead of petting dogs in central park.

Michael groaned and banged his head against the window a little harder at the thought, a fraction of him hoping that the impact of the glass against his head would be enough to crack his skull right open.

➢➢➢

He was standing in line now, a tall, gawky, and awkwardly-postured hair of bright red amongst a sea of brunettes and blondes and gingers whose faces were all lit up, probably from the excitement of being mere seconds away from entering the museum - Michael almost laughed to himself as he analyzed the irony of the situation. There he was, dressed in beaten-up jeans, sneakers he'd had since sophomore year, and an olive green t-shirt with a hole in the collar in the midst of bodies dressed in trousers, blazers and dress-shirts.

The difference between Michael and these people (some of whom were freshmen) was that they were actually smart and involved and they genuinely wanted to be there to learn about the Native Americans while Michael was a senior and couldn't even remember the exact year Christopher Columbus had sailed the ocean blue. (Nineteen forty-two or nineteen seventy-two?!)

In other words, he didn't belong with them whatsoever.

This wasn't his scene, not at all, and with each second that passed by, Michael was beginning to hate himself even more for knocking himself into this situation. And although he personally thought Friends was way better, even being back at home watching Big Bang Theory with a grumpy and sick and grumpy Calum sounded better than the predicament he was currently in. (He made a note to himself to text Calum a bunch of pissed-off looking emojis once he managed to find better signal).

Then, there was something suddenly tapping against the side of Michael's foot. With furrowed eyebrows, he looked down to find that the person standing beside him was tapping their shoe against Michael's, and he looked up to find that the foot belonged to a dirty-blonde, pink-lipped baby face. She was at least an entire foot shorter than Michael, looking up at him with wide hazel eyes and an expectant-looking grin, which was when Michael realized that she might've been trying to talk to him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized and shook his head, pulling himself back from wherever he'd been floating. "Were you saying something? I kind of zoned out."

"No worries," she said lightheartedly, not losing the grin spread across her lips. Michael had go bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at how ironic it all was - she had a cute baby face and a cute baby voice to match. The blonde looked down and tapped her shoe's against Michael's again before looking back up at him, "I was trying to tell you that we have the same shoes."