1. Driver Picks the Music, Shotgun Shuts his Cakehole
The end of the day bell rang loud and clear through my last class of the day. I was more than ready to get out of the building and home to my sweet, sweet bed.
I shuffled through my locker, deciding on what I needed for tonight and shoving it into my bag. As I was shutting the door to my locker was when I got an unexpected surprise that had me jumping out of my skin. My best friend, and boyfriend, Zachary Wilson was leaning against the row of lockers next to mine. My eyes flitted over his appearance, he was wearing a mischievous grin as if he knew how much he just startled me.
I faked an angry glare and growled “Jesus, Zachy! You nearly gave me a heart attack! How would you feel if you were the cause of your girlfriend’s death??”
He just laughs innocently and ignites my sarcastic remark. “Does my beautiful girlfriend need a ride home?” He replies after he kisses my cheek.
I blush and roll my eyes. “Sure, Zachy. As long as I pick the music!”
He groans, “Whatever happened to ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.’?” He quotes the tv show Supernatural.
I giggle because I understood his reference. “Sorry Zach, obviously they didn’t account for girlfriends who have different music tastes than their boyfriend’s,” I tease and pat his shoulder.
I smile in triumph when he sighs, giving in. “Fine, fine whatever.
“Yes!” I cheer happily, “So Panic! At The Disco, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, or Twenty Øne Piløts??” I query as we approach the double doors leading to the student parking lot. I decided to pet him have somewhat of a choice.
“Panic! is fine, as long as we listen to Death of a Bachelor." He decides.
I push open the doors and we step out onto the wet pavement. It has been raining all day.
“Oooh! You know me all too well!” That’s my favorite album of theirs. A grateful grin stretches across my lips and then I kiss him on the cheek. “You’re the best,”
“I know, I know.” Zach smirked.
We approached his car and I jumped into the passenger seat, ready to hear Brendon’s angelic voice. As soon as the car was started, I hurriedly popped the disk in. The opening cords to ”Victorious" started playing and I sighed in contentment.
“Would you like to go and grab a snack at Misty’s?” Zach asks before his stomach rumbles loudly.
“Sure babe,“I reply. “It sure sounds like someone’s hungry.” I poke his stomach teasingly and grin.
He blushes,“Sorry that I didn't eat the stereotypically gross school lunch, as it was, after all, gross.”
“This is why I pack my lunch.”
The song then shifts into ”Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time" and I screech and turn up the volume. This is where the scream-singing starts.
"Alright, alright, its a hell of a feeling though," I look at Zach and grin sheepishly while shrugging and mouthing sorry. The first verse ascends into the chorus and the volume of my voice gets louder.
"′Champagne, cocaine, gasoline, and most things in between...′"
Then the headbanging begins and Zach is laughing so hard. What can I say? I really like this song.
"I’m a scholar and a gentleman and I usually don’t fall when I try to stand. I lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon skirt, but I make these high heels work. I’ve told you time and time again, I’m not as think as you drunk I am. And it all fell down when the sun came up, I think we’ve had enough." I blush as I notice people are staring at me while we’re stopped at a red light.
As the song comes to an end, we pull into the small lot at the back of the dairy bar.
We both climb out of the car and I’m still humming along to the song that had just ended moments before.
We walked to the window and I order a simple “caramallow” milkshake while Zach practically orders a whole meal.
“Are you sure you can eat all of that?” I question teasingly.
He blushes, “course I could, I could eat a whole cow if I had to y’know? That’s how hungry I am.” I giggle.
“Okay.”
They bring out our food and I finish first.
I burst out laughing because Zach has mustard on his eyebrow and mayo on the tip of his nose.
“What?” He questions with a still full mouth.
I press my lips together in a thin line, disgusted. “One: chew your food first, two: your condiments on you. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to eat it, not wear it.”
He swallows his food,“ Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I take my napkin and wipe off the leftovers of his hamburger. “There.”
“Thanks.”
And with that, we got up and left.
