Fangirl

MAX'S POINT OF VIEW

I plop myself down next to Ashton, who is wearing black skinny jeans and a blue faded t shirt, on his phone. "Am I really being like all of those other girls he's with?" I frown.

"Yeah." He responds.

"Oh come on, there has to be some difference, right?"

"The only difference between you and them is you aren't completely brainwashed into thinking Calum only has eyes for you. You actually got a shot at letting him go." Ashton says simply, not looking up from him phone. He glances at me from the corner of his eye, then back at his phone as he says: "You're actually worth a lot more than this." I frown. No I'm not. The only thing I'm good at is art. My dad is gone, my mom's a crackhead.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough." He responds flatly. He then turns to me and sets his phone down. "I think it's you who doesn't know anything about you."

"What?"

"You don't know who you are, Max. You're fucking amazing at art-"

"How did you know that?"

"We share a room, Max, I've seen the paintings you keep in the closet." He smiles. "Anyway, I don't think you should be making choices like getting invested in Calum, when you aren't even invested in yourself yet." Ashton stands up and smiles at me, then walks into our room. I huff.

"Max!" Michael yells, and jumps onto the couch.

"What?" I ask.

"Wanna play?" He asks, handing me a controller.

"Prepare to lose, Clifford." I smile.

"No, you prepare to lose, I-don't-know-what-your-last-name-is!" He pauses and looks at me.

"What?"

"This is the point when you tell me your last name so I don't look like an idiot." He laughs.

"Ha, no."

RILEY'S POINT OF VIEW

"Chloe." Luke says to me, probably more serious than he's ever been.

"What?" I ask.

"Don't you dare tell her."

"But she should know. I mean you are in love with her." I shrug.

"Why are you being like this? You should be happy I even like someone! You're always telling me I need a girlfriend, so now that I like someone, why are you trying to ruin it-"

I walk over to him, "When I said you needed a girlfriend I meant me. I meant you needed me as a girlfriend. I meant that I'm madly fucking in love with you and I need you, and I wanted you to need me too." He stares blankly at me. "Clearly that's not the case." I huff.

"What're you writing?" Luke asks, as he sits down beside me with vegemite toast. Oh my god, the famous vegemite. I close my computer.

"Nothing important."

"Oh. Okay." He laughs.

"Is that vegemite?" I ask.

"Yeah." He shrugs. I just stare at it. It's all weird and brown. "What?"

"I've never had it." I answer. He pushes his chair back abruptly, looking at me with wide eyes and his hand on his chest.

"You're shitting me, right?"

I laugh, "No."

"Oh my god." He picks up his toast and hands it to me, "Eat this and be cured."

"Okay." I laugh. I take a bite of it, and forcefully swallow it. "Luke."

"Yeeess?" He beams.

"That's disgusting."

"What? No it's not!"

"It is." I laugh. "It's all salty and weird!"

"You're all salty and weird!" He crosses his arms.

"I know!" I laugh.

"Can you guys stop laughing over Riley being salty please, I'm trying to destroy Max over here." We hear Michael say from the living room.

"I'm already winning by like a hundred points, Clifford. Give it up."

"No!"

Notes

-BeautifulHood