irk (luke hemmings)

four

"Clifford, stop messing with my goddamn radio!" Ashton groans for what has to be the millionth time as the song shifts dramatically from Ashton's Coldplay CD to some pop station. "Hey! Go back! I liked that song!"

I look up to the dashboard, catching a glimpse of flaming red hair and a pale arm being swatted away from the media controls. Michael Clifford, the boy I only met this morning, sits in shotgun, his legs stretched out in front of him. Ashton's next to him in the driver's seat, as my father obviously doesn't trust me enough to let me drive Anne's car.

Which was partly good, because I don't really trust myself with it either. Drivers have complete power over the safety of all their passengers, and in between the hatred towards the owner of the car and one of the teenage boys seated in the backseat, I completely see my father's point.

But the one part I really don't understand is how, exactly, I ended up in the backseat of Anne's black Lexus, squished in between the cute brunette boy and the kid I hate more than anyone else.

That's right. LUKE.

So, how did I end up here?

Well, I guess it's not that difficult to explain. The moment I stepped into the garage to assess my fate Michael had already called shotgun and actually sat there before anyone could protest.

So that basically left Luke, Calum, and I to fend for ourselves in the backseat, literally having to fight for space. Naturally I was placed in the middle, considering that all of Ashton's idiot friends are over six-feet-tall and long-legged opposed to barely five-feet-tall and short-legged myself.

Now here I sit, in the middle of the two popular giants, feeling more small and insignificant than ever. I don't know what it is, but for some odd reason, with my left thigh pressed against Luke's and my right pressed against Calum's, it makes me question exactly why I didn't even try to fight my father's decision to make me travel with them.

Naturally, Anne and my father are five minutes ahead of us in the family's ten-year-old Honda, with plenty of room in the backseat. I really don't understand how I couldn't have easily just went in their car, seeing it would spare me this whole mess.

Then again, Anne and my father probably wanted their privacy, something I'm naturally obligated to respect.

The only thing keeping me sane right now is the sunlight that pours into the car from all angles. It is a beauty that no one can take away from me, not even Luke.

"I hate Coldplay, though. They're too depressing." Michael replies, Ashton sighs. I don't know what it is, but Michael seems to have some invisible power over Ashton, allowing him to get away with more than the average person under his jurisdiction. "Besides, this is a road trip. Live a little."

"Fine. Then change it." Ashton gives in easily, as I knew he would, and seconds later "Anaconda" is blaring through the car speakers.

Yikes.

Possibly the worst song anyone could ever write, I instantly cringe and block my ears.

It's almost like a universal reaction among the three of us in the backseat as I grope around for my iPod, Luke for his iPhone, and Calum for his headphones to block out the horrible song.

Well, on the bright side, at least Luke and I have something in common.

It doesn't take long for me to fish out my earbuds and iPod and scroll through my song list, quickly choosing an Ed Sheeran song. Honestly, right now I'd take anything to drown out the awful screeching of Nicki Minaj. I close my eyes, getting lost in the deep, soothing tone of Ed Sheeran's Tenerife Sea. Usually cheesy love songs like these I can't stand, but it's Ed Sheeran.