Laughter

The laughs had started again, loud and maniacal, over and over and over again. I rub my index and middle fingers against my temples in an attempt to cease an on coming migraine.

I've been sitting here, on the bat patterned bed for at least an hour. My head kills and my legs are falling asleep from sitting on them so long.

Shifting my position I try to stretch my feet into something at least resembling a comfortable position.

The laughs continue the same loud maniacal tone, I feel like someone's using my head for their drum practice.

I flop over onto my stomach and start tracing the black bat patterns on it with my finger.

The posters on the walls were all laminated and attached onto the wall with sticky tack –that blue putty like stuff—to ensure that none of the posters get ripped.

Louder now, ever more maniacal, I feel like this is going to be some kind of finale, but it isn't, it's the same laughter over and over and over again. The drums continue their pounding in my head.

Off to the side there was a book shelf stuffed with comic books, then there was another 3 piles of comic books stacked on top of each other; the book shelf probably couldn't take anymore. Unless information, I know, but anything is fine, as long as it takes my mind off…

The laughing was getting louder, I can't take it anymore I'm gonna blow.

"Holy crap! How long do you have to practice you maniacal laugh for?"

Steve blinks stopping his laughter to look at me, the look on his face is that of an innocent child that had no idea what they did wrong. Then again most kids always knew what they were doing, Steve is no exception.

I glare at Steve and he smiles, it's a crazed smile that might belong to a serial killer, then again that was probably because he had practiced that last week.

Steve bounded over to me, and I kept glaring. He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, swiping his tongue over my bottom lip before dipping it in and rubbing it alongside my own. My eyes snapped out of glare mode to don a look of complete shock.

Steve stepped back and smiled again.

"Sure, muffin."

Then he prances out of the room, maniacal laughter ringing on the other side of the door.

I licked my lips. Steve shouldn't know how to kiss; we weren't supposed to practice that until next week.