one of the boys » david dobrik au

thirty

"Are you done packing?"

"Um," I glanced at my open suitcase that was probably much too full to ever close. "Would it be bad if I said no?"

"Considering we were supposed to leave ten minutes ago... yes," David laughed. "You packed enough for the next month. We're only gonna be there for five days."

"I know," I sighed, flopping down onto my bed in pure exasperation. "But you haven't met my abuela."

"What's wrong with her?"

"We need to get in the car before I tell you," I admitted, shutting my suitcase and using all my might to zip it closed.

"Why?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, "So you can't escape."

David helped me get my bag in the trunk of his car (and by helped me, I mean he did it all himself while I queued songs on Spotify for our roadtrip), and then asked, "so, your grandma?"

"Fucking psycho," I sighed, leaning my head against the window as I stared out at the quickly passing scenery. "She's extremely conservative. If you say anything out of line or dress inappropriately or have colors in your hand, she thinks the fucking devil has taken your soul hostage. When Alejandro turned, like, twelve and started developing his attitude, we'd just go back and forth saying shit to see when she'd snap."

"What'd she do when she snapped?"

"Usually the whole you're a disappointment to me thing, but sometimes she switches it up with you're going to burn in hell."

"Why did you invite me again?" he groaned, and I laughed a little.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I didn't want to deal with it alone."

"Are you going to tell your moms we're dating?" he asked, and I stared at him with narrowed eyes, wondering if it was a test.

"We aren't dating."

"I know, but..." his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I didn't know if you wanted to tell them since we're kind of in between. I don't know."

"You can tell them if you want," I shrugged, deciding that leaving it up to him was probably my best bet. I didn't want to embarrass myself by saying something that we weren't on the same page about. "I don't care what you do."

"So you want me to?" his lips curled into an annoying smirk. "You want to date me, princess?"

"I don't think you can call me that anymore," I warned him with a lazy smile. "It's kinda weird when it's not sarcastic."

"Who said it wasn't sarcastic anymore?" he raised his eyebrows at me, eyes dangerously drifting from the road.

"You wanted to drive, so drive," I smacked him on the arm. "It's not sarcastic anymore. You're getting all sappy on me, weirdo."

"I am not getting sappy... bitch," after he said it, his nervous eyes flicked back and forth between me and the road like he was concerned I was going to kill him. I stared at him, annoyed, until he added, "I'm sorry."

"You should be, dick."

"So you can call me a dick, but I can't call you a bitch?"

"Exactly, because I'm not a bitch."

"You're insufferable sometimes, Mill, you really are."

He drove us the rest of the way with no interruptions and his eyes glued to the road. He carried my suitcase up to the door to seem like a big man, but I didn't want to do the work, so I let him. We let ourselves in without knocking and ran into Alejandro first in the living room.