"You know you like it but it drives you insane, only because you know you wanna feel the same..."
___
The first thing Calum does before he helps Royce into the car is offer her the bottle of water.

"Drink this," he says, and she takes it from his hands, nose wrinkled.

"What's this, more punch?"

"It's water," he replies.

"Where are we going? Am I being kidnapped?"

He chuckles, grinning as he watches her drink from the bottle.

He nods. "Yep."

And before Calum pulls from the curb, he plugs in his iPod and thinks that maybe water wasn't the best idea, because it's helping Royce sober up.

A little.

And as he begins to drive the windows get rolled down and the air starts blowing through her hair and seriously, what the fuck.

What the hell is he doing?

He's got a girl in his passenger seat and his music turned up loud and his windows rolled down and he's turned on at the same time he's intrigued as hell because he did not expect her to be as cool and as funny as he's starting to think she is.

He's got a girl in his car who should he lapped up with an athlete somewhere and not scrolling through the music on his iPod. He's got a girl with him who he really needs to forget about.

"So," he asks, as she flips through his music. "Uh," her silence is killing him, "have fun, tonight?"

"Well, a boy offered me a drink. It was filled with vomit," she groans, eyelids heavy. "How's that for 'fun?'"

"Oh my god," Calum gags. "What the fuck - ?"

"Wait, don't worry, though. He was drunk...and maybe, maybe a little high. Definitely high. Or just extra friendly, I dunno..."

"Vomit's a pretty cool gift if you like, really think about it."

"Yeah, it's like," she pauses, "it's like someone's second meal."

He nods. "Round two."

"The, the second course, right?"

"Oh sweet," Calum laughs. "This is like, really great news, then."

"Yep. I'd say it's been a great day. Great party. I just love those. I love parties. Love 'em so much."

"Sounds like you don't really mean that."

"Really?" She pulls a face. "Why on earth might you think that?"

"I thought cheerleaders liked parties," he replies, making her face back at her. "Isn't that, like, all you do? Cheer and party?" He shakes his wrist in her face. "Go, parties! Yay!"

Her eyes close as she laughs, and Calum grins because he's made her laugh - and this time, it's not at his expense.

He hopes she'll remember this tomorrow.

"I'm not that girl," she replies, shaking her head as the air blows her hair around her face. "So sorry to disappoint."

And Royce laughs loudly, startling him from his thoughts. "Oh my god!" She exclaims, clutching her stomach. "You've got a sex playlist?" She laughs harder, "How often do you play this?"

Claim grabs for his phone. Royce easily evades his grasp.

"Shut up," he mutters.

"What?" She asks, giggling drunkenly. "Lollipop, by Lil Wayne? Wet the Bed? You play this often, huh?"

"O-kay," and Calum snatches the phone from her fingers.

"Hey!"

"You're in my car," he exclaims over the wind. "You don't get to be mean to me."

"Fine, fine," she says, holding out her hands for his phone. "I'll be nice, I promise."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious! I won't say anything about your playlist. I won't," she holds up a few fingers. "Scout's Honor."

"Hate to break it to you babe, but only nice people choose music in my car."

She laughs again. "I am nice. I'm nice as hell."

"That's what I thought, but," he shrugs, because that was honestly what he thought. He thought she was a sweetheart who never fucked up and never did wrong and that image is slowly being reshaped as he also imagines all of the not-so-saintly things he'd like to do to her. He pokes his lip out in a little pout, "Apparently, I was wrong."

And Calum is hyper aware of the way she leans her head against the seat, angling towards him.

"Fine," she shrugs. "Just don't fuck up and pick a shit song. I'm waiting."

He grips the steering wheel and Royce stops herself from staring at his tattoos. He can feel her eyes on him as he selects a new song to fill the quiet cabin.

There's a place off Ocean Avenue
Where I used to sit and talk with you
We were both 16 and it felt so right
Sleeping all day, staying up all night
Staying up all night...

He pauses, holding his breath and listening to her hum along to the song he's chosen. She's staring out of the window, and he's about to ask her about her music taste and whether or not she actually likes this band or if she's just like those other girls who only listen to the songs on the radio and not the full albums; but honestly, he's ready to do anything to replace the tension with what was a playful atmosphere, when she beats him to the punch.

"Okay, so I love Yellowcard like the next girl, but this isn't even their best song."

Calum laughs because, "You know Yellowcard?"

She turns, lifting a brow. "That a surprise to you, Hood?"

"Actually, yeah," he replies, raising an eyebrow of his own. "It is."

"Anyway," she rolls her eyes, "My favorite song is 'Light Up the Sky,'" she says. "You should play that," and she smirks. "Like, now."

"Well," he nods, "I don't have it, so," and he selects a new song, "listen to this."

"Idiot."

And Calum smiles to himself, and he watches as Royce turns out the window as the music changes and 'American Idiot' comes on.

Royce laughs, and Calum is staring ahead, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

"Green Day? I haven't heard them since like, 4th Grade, man."

Now, Calum almost chokes. "You know Green Day?"

And Royce nearly laughs but doesn't. "Should I be offended?"

"I mean-" and the words don't come because Royce is shaking her head, staring out at the trees and lights they keep passing in the car.

She lifts her eyes to his. "Are you really taking me home?" She asks.

Calum licks his lips. "Yeah."

"How do you know where I live?"

He rolls his eyes. "Everybody knows where you live, Princess."

She can't argue with him there, but Calum groans. He's still tripped out on the fact that the girl beside him is slowly being reshaped in his mind.

"Royce," he says, and she turns to him. "Look," he says, and he points over the wheel. "Look, Royce."

She squints and he laughs. "Shut up," she hiccups. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Royce, it's The Bluffs."

And now, a look of realization flashes across her face. She's staring at the winding roads snaking from the freeway overpass, leading up to the houses speckled upon the mountain. They're called The Bluffs, although they're known as one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the state. It was where kids lived with their parents but were raised by nannies and it was where girls and boys were expected to marry within their social class or higher. Mostly higher.

"Seriously, man," she stares out at the trees. "I swore you were about to drive me off a cliff or something."

"Aww," he pouts, "Were you scared?"

She lifts her chin. "Should I've been?"

He sticks his tongue in the corner of his lips. "Chill, Royce," he says, as the road inclines and Calum diverges from the interpass. He winds up the dark, narrow streets. "I'm not going to-"

"To what?" She snorts. "Murder me?"

"Nah," he replies. "That's Luke. I only hide the bodies."

She clicks her teeth. "Smart-ass."

"Whoa," he says, as she peers around the familiar neighborhood.

"Make a left here," she says.

He does.

"Royce, why're you so obsessed with my ass?"

"Literally not going to answer that," she says, "And I'm the next house on the right," and Calum only laughs, unplugging his iPod and putting the car in Park and pulling the keys from the ignition as he parks across the street from Royce's house.

He throws open his door. "Well," he begins, "Are you coming or what?"

And Calum jumps from the car, hearing her door open and close behind him.

"Couldn'tve parked in front of my house, huh?" She asks, and he walks across the street. "You couldn't have made it easy on me, could you?"

But, Calum takes a step onto the curb and turns away from Royce's porch, staring instead, at the lights twinkling in the distance.

"Holy fuck, you've got a sick view."

A grin plays upon her lips.

He pauses. "What? What're you smiling at?" He nudges her with his toe as she takes a seat on the curb beside his black Chuck Taylors. "Stop fucking laughing."

"I'm not," she exclaims. "Promise," she adds with a giggle at his unconvinced expression.

Calum only scowls. "I wonder how many people live here and don't appreciate these little things... Like, how many rich pricks live in this neighborhood and're too obsessed with driving the newest Bentley that they don't take time to look at the fucking stars."

"Well," Royce replies, her voice clipped, "If you want to count stars, my backyard is cooler."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't do me any favors."

"Who says I was? Who says my brother and I didn't used to count stars at night? Who says we didn't sleep in our treehouse? You don't know me, Calum, so don't assume you do," and Royce pushes herself from the concrete. "Thanks for the ride, anyway," she says, turning now to walk up her drive.

"Hey!" He exclaims, nearly tripping over his feet as she stalks away. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

"What? So, you leave? Thought we were having a conversation!"

"We were, but now, you've pissed me off," she retorts, quickening her pace, "So fuck you. Goodbye."

But Calum is quicker, and he actually stumbles reaching out to grab her arm.

"Calum!"

"Wait," He smirks, holding out his hand. "Hey, lemme see your phone."

She coughs. Sure, she's drunk, but this boy is random as hell. "For what?"

"I just wanna see it."

"I don't want your number."

His jaw drops and she laughs. "Fuck you. Who says I was gonna add it, anyway?"

He was totally about to add it.

Royce holds her phone out towards him. "Fine, then," she says. "Here," and he reaches for her cell.

She snatches it back. "Sike," she exclaims, throwing her head back and plastering her phone to her boobs, laughing loudly. "God, you're gullible as hell."

"Hey! Don't be a bitch!"

"Aren't all snobbish, rich cheerleaders?" She taunts, flipping her hair.

He lunges towards her.

She breaks out into a jog.

Obviously, he chases after her.

"Why're you so fucking fast?" He exclaims, watching her hair and her ass and her legs in that dress.

"Years of track, duh," she calls, and before he knows it, he's kind of laughing (only kind of because mostly he's breathing hard), as he corners her against his car.

"Shit," she laughs, watching his chest rise and fall. He's got his hands on the hood of his car, placed on either side of her shoulders as she holds her phone to her chest. "Jesus, Calum, you're out of shape."

"I'm not!"

She keeps laughing. "Someone's defensive."

"Am no-" He shakes his head, chest heaving. "Fuck you."

She's still laughing, eyes closed. He feels her hair on his hand and is staring down at her closed lids and white teeth and she smells so good. He really shouldn't have done this. He should have never sat next to this chick in class and he should have never invited her out tonight. He shouldn't have done this because now, he's the only one affected and he can't do shit about it. Deep down, he knows she'd never go for him. He was on a straight ride to Hell, but all at once he wanted to buckle her up beside him so she could come, too.

And Calum knows he shouldn't, but as she laughs against his car and he has wildly inappropriate thoughts of all the places he could take her, he presses against her, nudging her legs apart with his knee.

She inhales sharply, eyes flying open. "What're you doing?"

He doesn't exactly reply, but he drops his hands to her waist, long hair falling over his eyes. Royce is frozen, eyes wide, hands clasped on top of her phone as Calum comes even closer. His legs are impossibly long in his skinny jeans and she's short; the thin fabric of her dress making it very easy to feel all of him.

All of him.

"Calum," she says, stronger. "What are you doing."

He ducks his head. "What do you think I'm doing?"

She can't see his face beside her neck, but she can feel his breath. "I don't know. That's kind of why I'm asking-"

His lips graze against her jaw. "What do you want me to do?"

Royce blinks.

Calum's lips fix into a smirk. He can see her pulse throbbing in the vein on her neck, and he can smell fruits and alcohol and her hair and Royce.

She's silent.

"I want-"

He whispers, "What?"

"I want-" and he nips at the skin on her neck and places a kiss on the mark.

Royce's voice is breathy and soft. "Calum..."

His hands roam her sides.

He squeezes her thigh, hiking up her dress with his knee. "Say it," he says.

Royce's eyes flutter closed. "What?"

"You want me," he says, and his hands are falling lower below her waist.

There's a sharp intake of breath.

Calum smirks.

He pauses. "Don't you?"

And Royce's eyes are lidded and dilated as she opens them, slowly, "I -"

And he snatches her phone from her hands.

"Hey!" She's standing there, watching him laugh as he jogs away, her phone in his hand. "You...You shit!"

He laughs harder. "You should've seen your face!"

She takes off after him. "What the fuck, Calum? What're you doing with my phone?"

"Taking a picture," he scoffs, "Chill," and he holds up her phone and angles it towards the skyline.

Royce folds her arms against her chest. She's kind of out of breath, and it's not from running but because whatever the fuck just happened against his car has her heart beating erratically. She's also kind of pissed. Really? All of that just to get her phone from her hands?

That was all the way fucked.

She rolls her eyes, rubbing her exposed arms. "You done yet, Ansel Adams?"

He lowers her phone, wrinkling his nose. "Who?"

"He was a famous photographer. Shot a lot of landscapes-Y'know," she shakes her head. "Never mind," and she holds out her hand, in which he slaps her phone.

He smirks. "Happy?"

"Tremendously."

And he rolls his eyes, watching as she pockets her phone and goes back to rubbing her arms.

"Bye, Calum."

And this time, he lets her go.

"Bye, Royce."

__

"Where've you been?" Paige whispers from across the hall, sticking her head from her room as Royce jogs up the stairs. "Who brought you home?"

She shrugs. "Just a friend from class," she says and Paige nods.

She leans against her door. "So...? How was the party?"

Paige shrugs. "Like the rest."

"Figured."

"Yeah..." And then her eyes light up. "I've got stories to tell you tomorrow," she says with a yawn.

"Are they about Zayn?"

Paige nods. "Who else is worth the breath and energy?"

And Royce laughs, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt not to wake their parents.

"Good night, Paigey."

"Night, Poppy."

Royce blows her sister a kiss, entering her room and closing the door behind her.

She pulls off her dress and changes for bed, pulling out her phone as she falls deep into her covers.

She's got missed texts from Lola and Kennedy and a missed call from a number she doesn't recognize, and as she flips through her calls, she notices that the last activity in her phone is an outgoing call to a number she sure as hell doesn't remember dialing.

It's got a local area code, and for a moment, she thinks she should call it.

She doesn't.

Instead, her mind wanders and she switches immediately to her pictures. She wants to see the picture Calum took from her hill of her house.

Royce scrolls down to the bottom of the photo stream, looking through the pictures she'd taken that night with Paige and her friends as they posed in her sister's bedroom, getting ready.

And that's it.

There are no more pictures after that.

There's no picture of Seattle from the hilltop.

Calum never took the fucking picture.

Royce starts to laugh. It's mostly out of shock, but still.

What the hell did he do, then?

Her mind keeps running through the night she'd spent with the lying asshole she'd left Jesse's with.

But...

Wait...

Stop.

She's not obsessed with his ass.

__

calum called himself from her phone and didn't take the picture lol liar.

i bet you thought they were about to get it on on the car but nahhh ya'll this story's just beginning hehe.

you know you like it || dj snake ft. alunageorge