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18 | Underground Hair Comb

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hai

um yeah um why tf do i keep thinking this book is horribly coordinated? can everyone just confirm it isn't and is good? pLEASE

(gif on the side of ariana and frankie <3)

okay enjoy :3 and ill get my whiney lil ass outta here

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18 | Underground Hair Comb

[Ariana's P.O.V]

Gracefully, many ounces of a purely barbecue-marinated chicken breast is held in between Laura's clumsy fingers, her eyes set on the poor thing before she demolishes it. Her eyes close and her head bows down to the table, the chicken breast wobbling up in the air from her hand. “You, our mighty Lord, and all providing, I thank you for this scrumptious chicken you have given me, for these tender juices that butter my fingers up oh-so perfectly, and delight. I ask a special blessing, to those wrinkly, old lunch ladies who have prepared this meal, with love and care. This afternoon. Amen.” Her eyes blink open and immediately, her teeth dive into the meat, all that sauce rubbing onto her face.

                My Caesar salad will just proceed its way into the trashcan now. 

                “How pleasant of a view,” I remark, turned-off by any food that comes my way now.

                In the midst of eating her lunch, Laura poses with puckered lips. “Isn't it?” she retorts.

                I laugh at her and then Niall, whose fried chicken breast is shivering on its platter. “Very,” he agrees, his blue eyes glued on her as his dilated pupils become visible to me.

                Aww, he’s love-struck.

                But yeah – him sitting here has sort of, kind of become a regular thing now.

                Laura grimaces at Niall's googly eyes, shifting in her seat and turning the noticeable angle of her face at me and Miley. “He's so weird,” she mouths.

                Miley smiles at Niall. “We're twinning hair right now,” she points out.

                He takes his eyes off the chicken in his hands. “We are, aren't we?” They fist bump.

                Miley pretends to giggle as she secretly wipes the chicken grease he transferred to her knuckles off and onto her jeans.

                Luke and Michael aren't here today. I was told them and their band mates are performing at some pizza parlor later this afternoon, including tomorrow night, so they marked an absence rather than just leaving early.

                And Morgan, she's there with them to support.

                Now, since I haven't been taking any of this amble time of mine – I'm being sarcastic if y'all aren't educated on a little thing the dictionary likes to call subtext – for granted to thoroughly discuss and plot out my days in this tedious yet eventful purgatory of a school of mine quite lately, I'll just be nice and waste these characters on all of you: basically, Morgan ended up forgiving Luke after he wrote a poem about how happy she makes him feel and how in love he is in with her.