Teenage Dream.

I saw a bizarre number the corner of my autographed Munro Chambers poster and being foolish enough, decided to text the number. “Uhm. Hi. Who is this?” While whomever it was replied, I strummed the strings of my guitar to no melody, beat – I just strummed like the child I was.

“Who do you want it to be?” The mystery person replied with as much curiosity as I had. Who ever it was, they were playing mind games with me. I licked my dry lips.

“Is it the pony I wished for on my fifth birthday?” Two could play at that game. I resumed strumming the strings of my guitar, tuning the strings as I went along. My hair was up in a messy bun and I still had my outfit on from earlier.

“Guess again – it’s Munro. Y’know Chambers?” I scoffed. Pretty boy was barking up the wring tree.

“Fuck off.” I replied; in my head, I thought those words incredibly harshly. I didn’t need him as a vital part of my life. I just couldn’t bear to even now him. After all, he gave me his number and not April – I think that signified something. He liked me and even though sometimes April annoys the hell out of me, I love her and could never hurt her like that.

“Quite the feisty one, are we?” He replied. This guy didn’t know how to stop bugging a girl after she told him to get lost.

“Get lost. Take a hike. What do I have to say to get rid of you?” I replied, groaning. Why couldn’t he grasp the fact I didn’t want to talk to him?

“How about you get to know me before you tell me to get lost?” He bargained. I shook my head, placing my guitar down on its stand. This was going to be one hell of a night.