violet skies / michael clifford

who tf is incest-Luke?

12. don't allow incest, michael

"Of all our band gaming nights," Luke says, balancing boxes of pizza, "this is the best one by far and it hasn't even started yet."

He's still excited about the buy one get one free pizza deal. Luke got so taken by the offer he needed extra time to pick out the toppings for his second pizza. The catch? Collection only. Which is why we're on our way back to my car and not halfway through our first game of FIFA and the second round of drinks.

"It's not really a band thing if you don't invite Ashton," Calum shot back.

"He doesn't even like video games, why should I invite someone who won't play? Right, Mikey?"

I can't stop thinking about the text she sent me earlier. About running away. She still hadn't said where she was, and I guess I'm a little bit worried.

"Mikey?"

"Sure," I agree, not really paying attention to what they were talking about. My mind is elsewhere.

I've spotted a person sat on the pier. A small figure of light blue and, long dark hair blowing in the wind. I used to spend many nights down there, just thinking and writing songs. When I look closer, I realise I know the girl sitting on the big block.

"Guys, I'll catch up with you later, okay? There's something I need to do," I tell them and give Luke my car keys.

"What do you mean, we're–" Luke protests, looking at the keys that are now in his hand. Shaking his head, he pushes them into Calum's chest. "I can't drive your shitty car, it'll break."

"It's not that shit." But he's right, it honestly might break any minute. "Anyway, I have to go–"

My eyes keep going back to her. Calum's eyes follow mine to the girl, and I can tell by the look he gives me that he's caught on.

"Alright, do what you need to do," Calum nods. "I'll drive. Will you get back alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

Will she be fine?

"Mind if I join you?"

No answer. She lets out a breath, her shoulders and head rising up and then falling back down again. She's wearing what looks like a prom dress. A blue flimsy thing, with little sparkly bits around the chest area.

"Hey, you look nice," I try again, this time a little bit more careful. And she does look pretty, although the bottom half of the dress is closer to dirt brown than blue.

I don't even realise she's full on crying until she briefly turns her head. There are tear stains down her cheeks. Long, dark lines messing up her usually pretty face. She's got a snotty nose as well, but I won't tell her that.

"Go away," she says, trying to turn herself away from me.

It goes on for a while, her trying to push me away. But soon she stops fighting me, and we just sit there in silence. It's not uncomfortable. Her sniffles become less even, and then they stop. I just sit there, beside her. I know what it's like coming down here to think, so I let her be.

Jessa sits with eyes closed and head tilted back as the breath of wind hits her face every now and then, brushing back her dark hair.

Little by little, she moves her head and allows me to see her face. Her eyes are red and there are black smudges underneath. She's a mess. So I focus on the flower in her hair.

I mean, she can probably feel the mascara running and she sees the black on her fingers when she wipes her under her eyes. I don't want to make her feel any worse.