Troubles

Parking Lot

I practically run out of the classroom. I hate fucking math teachers giving you detention so you might miss the last bus back to the train station. It's insane that the last bus leaves at 5, just because it's Friday. It's rediculous.

“Hey, Frank! Hold up!” I glance over my shoulder to see Mikey running after me.

“Can't! Gonna miss my bus!” I yell back, before I shove the doors open and run across the parking lot.

“Wait! Frank! I wanna ask you something!” Mikey yells at me, but I continue running. It's times like this I wish I had a wristwatch. If I had, I could check the time. If I had, I could set the time to the clock on the bus. If I had, I wouldn't have to see the bus drive right past me when I run out the school gates.
Yup. Bus 54.

“Fuck!” I yell. In frustration, I take off my backpack and toss it onto the ground.
Now I have to spent a night in Belleville. Probably on some random bench like last time. At least last time some drunken housewife decided to buy me a borrito. It sucked, but it was food. She was nice too.

“Frank!” Mikey yells, and I turn around. My chest is bouncing up and down as I heave for air.
“Hey,” he says, out of breath himself as he reaches me and comes to a hold. He grabs my shoulder for support.
“You run fast!” he exclaims, still gasping for breath. It brings a light smile to my face. He's so out of shape.

“Sorry, Mikes. I just missed my bus,” I explain, trying to sound less pathetic than I feel.

“It's alright. I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to come back to my house. My parents are out of town for the weekend and Gerard is going out tonight, so I figured we could do something. You can even sleep over if you want.” I glance at the bus driving away over Mikey's shoulder, then turn to him and smile.

“Sure,” I say happily. He smiles back.

“Cool. Gerard left the car for me, so we can swing by your place on the way home if you need to pick up some clothes,” he says as he starts searching through his backpack. I'm guessing he haphazardly threw the car keys in it.
I take his words very literally. 'Swing by'. He's probably the worst driver ever.

“I'm alright. I can wear this again tomorrow,” I shrug, trying to sound indifferent. He glances up at me quickly, before he continues his search.

“Alright,” he mumbles, then turns around and walks back towards the school parking lot. I inwardly grin at him. I wonder if we'll ever get back to his place.
At least I might have somewhere warm to sleep tonight.
♠ ♠ ♠
I can't stop thanking you guys. So Thank you!
Okay, so, I kinda wrote a little one-shot. Wanna read? =D

And Proposition 8 has been deemed unconstitutional! Yay!