Chapter Fourteen - Foggy Dreams

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Chapter Fourteen Foggy Dreams

You're always on my mind. Days like masquerades, take a breath and feel what matters. Take a breath and feel it.

-The Academy Is...

"Ed Sheeran."

"Bon Iver."

"No Ed Sheeran."

"You're out of your mind. Bon Iver."

It was third period and Pierre and I were arguing. But for once it wasn't over food but music. Emily had recently gotten me obsessed with the British phenomenon that was Ed Sheeran. He did a cover of Skinny Love which was originally sung by Bon Iver but Ed Sheeran sang it ten times better than Bon Iver originally had. They didn't even make their song a hit, Birdy did –and by the way, Ed Sheeran's cover is still better than hers.  "You're out of your mind. That cover is so much better than the original."

Pierre rolled his icy blue eyes at me, "You clearly don't have a taste for authenticity. That's why you suck in this course."

I crossed my arms, "Hey! I don't suck. I'm just not a perfectionist like you."

"You say it like it's a bad thing. But when I become a millionaire and you don't, then you'll be wishing you were a perfectionist, too."

"Let loose, live a little, dude."I sounded like a Cali stoner while I made the 'hang-loose' sign with my hand.

Pierre scoffed at me as his arms continued mixing our tomato sauce. He refused to let me do it because I 'created air bubbles', seriously what the hell? That doesn't even matter; you're throwing it in a pot anyway! I watched him as he stirred the recipe. He was fairly muscular, and his arms looked extra good peeking out from the rolled up sleeves of his white shirt –which was spotless by the way. We were making tomato sauce and he hadn't managed to get a single spot on his shirt. I, on the other hand, had red stains all over my grey crop top and I had barely done any of the work. "You will go nowhere in life."He said, oblivious to the fact that I had been checking him out.

I giggled, "Watch me become a multi-billionaire and you the head of a flimsy restaurant that barely affords lease."

"As if. Don't worry though, Sam, I'll let you mop the floors of my high-end restaurant when you end up a hobo on the streets."He gave me a sparkling smile. The mention of hobos got my mind reeling back to Saturday night. I trailed my gaze to where Ashton was sitting on a stool, his chin rested on his hands as he stared at his partner who was chopping up tomatoes. She seemed to be fascinated by using the knife to cut things up. Her black sleeves were rolled up and her dark eyes sparkled as she watched the red fruit become slashed. Rather than looking disturbed like I would, Ashton was completely indifferent.

Saturday night's –well Sunday morning's, really, –drive home was completely awkward. Ashton drove, Terry stole shotgun and Roman and I shared the backseat. No one uttered a word; the radio was on but on low volume, since all of our ears were ringing. The streets had been more or less deserted –especially when we crossed from the city into the suburbs.

I could tell that Roman was still pissed off, Ashton seemed completely frustrated and he took his anger out on the road. His turns were fast, his speed was over the top and the way he changed lanes was completely illegal. Still, his driving was better than Roman's.

It seemed that Terry didn't want to get involved in any of this so he didn't say anything and even let Ashton drive like a maniac. Roman was in no position to complain and he didn't appear at all fazed by his brother's reckless driving. I was pretty certain that I was the only one flipping out on the inside by how dangerous our position was. It seriously was a miracle that I made it home unscathed.

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