graffiti (completed)

Seventeen.

She leaned on the doorframe, tank top and pajama pants, releasing her energy through a sigh.

"Sorry about all that," she said, taking out her phone and checking the time, running a hand through her freshly washed hair with a smile.

"I mean," I groaned, stretching my limbs," you aren't going to explain?"

Her friends had just left, after staying for two days. They mostly hung out by the pool, drinking beer, playing songs, talking about things i didn't bother to listen to. I avoided Mike the best I could, making sure eye contact was never made after the incident. He seemed confused about it for the first day, but by the time they left, he seemed indifferent about it. Men had a habit of letting things fly right by their faces, especially adults, and it was only a matter of time before he realized. I assumed he didn't yet.

"Some art school grads and a friend of mine, spending spring break around," she said sitting on my bed, even though she didn't ask. I let it slide, "I'm probably going to go over to their vacation house before the end of this week. I wouldn't want to leave you here. They stayed for a few days so they could see whats fun in town."

"Sounds like you're having fun," I said, sitting up, cross legged on the bed.

"I mean, I know you were probably spooked in the morning with other people besides me and you in the house. You shouldn't do things without telling anyone."

I suspected she knew nothing about my plan, because if she did, she was a master at throwing shade. I doubted that she could do anything that wasn't be extremely nice.

After a bit of silence, she turned to me with a smile. "Can I make it up to you with lunch?"

. . .

I had never been to a place where they put plain old water in an intricate glass pitcher.

I mean, I'd been to a few fancy restaurants here and there, but this was the most casual fancy restaurant I'd ever seen. The waiter handed us garlic bread in one of those authentic looking baskets, quickly took our order with a smile, and walked away.

"He was cute, wasn't he?" She smiled when he left, and gave a small laugh afterwards.

I shrugged. I often found cans of spray paint more attractive than boys. Or girls. Or anyone.

"So," she swallowed her food, giving a small pardoning laugh for talking with her mouth full, "what do you think of this place?"

I looked around. The ceiling had draping fabric, seperated from us by poles of the ceiling. This didn't stop the restaurant from being extremely bright, daylight pouring out of it's large windows and shining soft lights. There was a large bar, filled to the brim with wines and champagnes and liquors, along with seasonal cocktails in exquisite looking jars. Our table and napkins were cloth, which made me want to feel nervous for spilling anything, as they'd have to wash it later. I had an iced tea with peach bits floating around in it, a tall, thin glass, and there were a bunch of other little tables, filled with the sound of civilization. Music playing, glasses clinking, people talking and laughing. Many old and conservative, or young and prim, but still having a nice time. "It's cool."

"Would you rather we go somewhere else?"

I smirked. "Checkers."

"Their fries are amazing," Melodie gave a compliant nod, "So, besides your current.. dillemma, what's new?"

Once again, I shrugged. "This morning I saw a bird eating a worm."

She gave a deadpan expression, taking a break to sip, "I mean, what about that party, huh? How was that?"