The Bad Boy's Good Girl

27. "I Better Get A Big Slice of Cake. A Big One."

"I'm miss sugar pink, liquor liquor lips, hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss."

"Marina and the Diamonds," I muse, bumping my shoulder to hers as we make our way down the hall. It's nearly empty. "Not too shabby, best friend."

"Are you kidding me?" She asks incredulously, as the song finishes with a powerful note and a song by Breathe Carolina comes on. It's fast paced and very dance-worthy. I'm actually tempted to break-dance in the middle of the corridor.

But then I remember I suck at dancing and I will most likely break my ass.

"So what's your New Year's resolution gonna be?" She stops at her own locker at the song sings something about electronic fumes. 

"Depends, yours?" I honestly haven't given it that much thought. 

"Not to let you get almost-killed again," she half-jokes, looking into the mirror tacked onto the locker door to avoid meeting my eyes. The song hits a climax and I frown.

"That won't happen again," I try to reassure her.

She sighs. "You never know for sure, Dylan."

I look away. "I do," I whisper. "And it won't happen."

She sighs but says no more, as the music changes to a softer beat. Something I recommended for her to put in her iPod two years ago.

"Ships in the Night," I smile weakly. "It's been two bloody years, now this finally happens?"

She laughs half-heartedly. "He sings about violence, how could I resist?"

"Getting into fifth-grade fights isn't the highlight of the song," I smirk. "And to think, I wanted this at my wedding."

"Girl I'll be the one pulling off the white to be a bitch and doing back flips over the champagne to a Rihanna song." She teases.

"I'll be the one downing the champagne wondering what the hell I've signed up for," I say right back with no hesitation.

 She smirks a bit and hooks her arm through mine, and leads the way to her car.

***

 December thirteenth, eleven fifty-eight. At least, that's what the clock says.

Two minutes, Dylan.

I'm alone in my room. My mom is sleeping soundly for the first time in God knows how long. We the Kings is playing quietly from my speakers connected to my lap top. I bite my lip and glance at the clock.

11:59

Whoa, okay. 

 I nervously tap my fingers on my thighs, watching the seconds tick by slowly. My breath hitches as the countdown starts.

Ten...

Nine...

Eight...

Seven...

Six...

Five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

One.

"Holy shit, I'm eighteen."

I stand up and lope to the mirror. I give myself a big grin. There is absolutely no change - I look the same as I did when I was seventeen, just minutes ago. But now, I feel different. Sophisticated, mature. I pull a few silly faces, feeling as if I'm walking on air.