when the going gets tough | meghon
His mouth quirking up into a smile, he couldnāt help but laugh at the connotation of being a bad boy. He wasnāt sure that bad boys brought flowers to their mothers grave or went bowling with their fathers every Friday night to scarf down pizza, but if that was going to be his label, he was going to have to deal with it for now and maybe appease Meganās ideas of him. āAre you calling me a badass, Megan?ā He said with a smirk, trying not to get too inflated over her words. āI mean, Iām not. Social rules are for fucks, and thatās really all Iāve got to say about it. Trust me, youāve got your own definition too outside of school and you wouldnāt like it either. Girl that walks up Rodeo Drive, carrying her too big of a bag that canāt be classified as a purse, sunglasses always on, face made up, itās grounds for one of the Real Housewives show, but instead of being loaded with plastic surgery, youāre just one of their daughters that has a side job modeling or something.ā He said with a snort, looking to her, āBut since weāre going to be friends, I guess I can brush that from my mind. Label you as Megan, only if you label me as John and not bad ass.ā He said with a shrug, knowing that labels had never been his thing and he wasnāt going to start with them now.
āYou are welcome, mālady.ā He said, easily playing off her joke. It was never his intention to get someone like Megan on his bad side. He knew the girl was headstrong and could make up her mind and the mind of a thousand men if she had to. The girl could lead battles and still be stronger when she was covered in blood, and he didnāt need it to be his own. āYou think I let people drive my baby? In their dreams.ā He said with a snort, glad that he had a common bond with her over something, even if it was a car. āHardly anyone drives stick anymore Megan. If I just let someone touch her theyād fuck it up and then Iād have to dispose of their bodies.ā He said with a grin, knowing that he was mostly kidding. Mostly. āNine thousand eyes?ā He questioned her, knowing that he wasnāt understanding what she was saying. His father wasnāt exactly strict, but John and he had a level of trust where he knew where he was by choice. He didnāt mind his father knowing where he was by texting him. It wasnāt a big deal and he didnāt have anything to hide from him, but now he was wondering if Megan had something to hide from her parents by being so condescending about them watching her.
āFreedom and driving are linked, you know.ā He said easily. āI mean, whatās more freeing than getting your license? You drive wherever you want, whenever you want, no oneās going to question you. You could drive on the open road for hours without contact with anyone and itās peaceful. Keep driving, donāt know where youāre ending up and youāre not sure if you like it or not, but the disconnection is probably one of the best feelings Iāve ever had. The worst is coming back⦠being connected. Facing reality.ā He said easily, knowing this feeling all too well. āAlas, weāre stuck here. Lovely school where they rip all your dreams away. Pass the acid?ā
Raising her brows as she stood in front of him silent for a moment. Lips pressed together as she raised her brows to him, her deep brown eyes narrowed for a only a moment as she shrugged. "Take it as you will. I'm saying the school is calling you a bad ass. I, on the other hand --" Megan openly looked him up at down, offering her sweeter then normal smile. "Still need to see it to believe the rumors." Raising her brows to what he was saying, she all but blinked in complete shock, letting silence roll over her rather then butting in and speaking up, something she usually would have done int he instant, shaking her head slowly as she looked down at her notebook. Maybe he didn't care about what people thought of him, and maybe there was the tiniest sliver that envied him for doing so. But she cared. She had a name, and a brother to make proud, and a pathway to create for Chloe to go down so when Megan was up and done school she wouldn't have to worry too much about Chloe because no one would truly bother the sister of Will and Megan Fudge. Not that they did now, anyways. Raising another brow as she kept her head down, casting a side-glance at him if anything, she shrugged her shoulders. "I guess you can be John," She finally agreed. "I mean, I don't think I've ever met someone who would rather be preferred to be called John then Bad-ass, but you're the supposed bad-ass who wishes for that, so I don't mind giving into that." She said as she drummed her fingers, listening to the teacher speak as she continued to take more notes.
As he called her M'lady, she couldn't help but chime in with a laugh, shaking her head to his words as she fiddled with her pen. Raising her brows to him, she dropped her jaw as she smacked him lightly on the arm. "Hey!" She began, dropping her hand from the gesture as she beamed from ear to ear. "I can drive stick, thank you very much. My Mom and Dad were really adamant on me getting an automatic car, but I convinced them to make Chloe get one that was automatic so I could have a standard car. Sometimes it's funny to watch my brother struggle to drive it, poor kid couldn't do it to save his life." Looking up at him as he repeated her words, she shrugged. "My parents are FBI agents," She half mumbled, avoiding eye contact as she drew a circle in the corner of her page with her pen as he continued to work. "I just accept that somehow, wherever I go, I've got eyes on me, watching everything I do." She knew it could be worse. She knew she could have parents who just didn't give a right fucking damn about what the hell she was doing, or who she was doing it with. She knew there were parents out there who didn't give a damn if their kid was alive or dead, and she thanked her lucky stars that even with her overbearing-like parents, that at least they cared. Or so, she frequently reminded herself of that, anyways.
Listening to him intently, Megan found herself staring more than anything else, as she allowed herself to be drawn in by his words. All but snapping out of them as he asked her for something, she shook herself from her daze, reaching out for the acid and passing it his way. "I'm sure they don't rip all your dreams away," She commented, as she nudged him over with her hip, moving in front of the beaker to examine what he had done in the moment. "I mean," Megan began, as she took the drops of acid to begin putting into the beaker slowly. "If you found a way to make school fun, kids here wouldn't constantly feel like their lives are being sucked out every time they're here." She looked up at him from her bent height. "Can't you possibly find anything fun to do while you're in school to make the day more bearable? Or do you begin counting minutes until it ends when you walk in? Late, I presume." She added, a joking tone to her words.














