Bad Boy, Good Boy (boyxboy)

2 - AFTER the last party of high school

A/N: I made it. It's 23:55 so this still counts as "posting this week". I wrote it in a hurry, I haven't proofread, it's messy, but I think you're going to be happy about this chapter. Because this is where the fun begins.

If you want to, we can discuss your hopes and dreams, if not, then let me know what you think of the chapter.

Yes, comments and votes ;) 

Happy reading

Chapter 2 - After the last party of high school

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come to select the boys and girls who shall graduate. And I am one of the chosen ones.

It didn't begin with a bang but it could still end in one. I keep fidgeting in my seat, uncomfortable and sweaty, and Sam keeps giving me looks. Her red hair seems on fire in the blazing sun. Maybe I should've brought a fire extinguisher with me.

My father is sitting somewhere among all those parents. He's even wearing a suit and I hate how much I look like him right now.

Sam takes my hand and gives a slight squeeze. I clear my throat and press a smile. "I'm still mad at you," I say quietly. She clenches her jaw. In a week she'll be leaving. I'm glad she's getting out this hell hole, but that doesn't mean it'll be a softer blow.

She's going to chase her dreams and I'm going to be stuck in the same place (I'm lying, but let's forget it for the dramatic effect). (I'm actually going to college, but I'm not leaving until a week before school starts. It's going to be sweet dorm life.)

"We'll talk about it later," she says and sighs. "As late as possible. Because avoiding the inevitable seems the most sensible thing to do."

The collar scratches against my neck and it keeps suffocating me in the sun. The pictures are going to be amazing, I bet. Everyone's mask will have melted away by the time the photographer starts working his or her magic.

I'm not happy that this part of my life is ending because I'm scared out of my mind because of the not knowing what's about to come. But Sam promised we'd throw a party, even if it's just the two of us, and we'd raise our glasses high and sing some emo song to remind us childhood.

But before we can go on with this lovely celebration, let me take you down memory lane, and by that I mean let me tell you about Mickey's party, because boy! was that something else (I mean, I have to say that, otherwise you will just quit now). I think it's weird how I imagine a crowd in my head, even though the only one listening is me.

But, and don't get your hopes up, something happened that night that changed the way I thought about the world. Well, not the world, but a certain someone.

"Are you going to drink that?"

I looked up from the counter. Sam, with her hair up in a high ponytail, grinned at me, her nails clicking against the smooth surface of the kitchen counter. I shook my head and fell back into thought.

Now, if it had been for the the loud music, I'd have understood why my head had hurt, but we were the first people there. Imagine the horror when the only other face in the room belonged to the boy I'd been in a fight with. And then Sam came skipping round the corner, red cup in hand.

The cup was empty and later she filled it with water, but still, she was the only one of us who was excited for the party. Mickey kept glancing at his phone as if it were his lifeline and he wanted to make sure he was still alive.