Chapter 23

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That night, I was found sitting at the kitchen Table, in Michael's house. He sat in front of me, eating silently as I was doing the same. Just as I struggled to get my fork to stab into a piece of steak that was in a cuisine box once before, he had mumbled something, triggering for me to look up at him.

He glared at me, and I continued staring at him. "So, have you thought about who you're staying with?" He questioned blankly, dropping his eating utensils and looking at me with soft eyes.

I tensed up a little, my back straightening, "Um, I don't know yet." I lied out.

He looked at me a little longer, and started chuckling. His eyes were red, and he seemed like he had gotten high and a little tipsy just before I showed up. I don't know why, though. I continued eating, trying hard not to do anything that would piss him off. He can get scary when he's drunk or in some state of being high.

"Hah, I don't get you, Heather," He claimed with a tense voice tone, I looked up again, with sorrowful eyes. I didn't say anything. "You...you act like I'm everything to you and then you, you...don't even want to live with me." He said out, looking at his plate. I'm thinking he's had one too many drinks. I opened my mouth, the dinner not going so well. I suddenly stood up and gathered my things, such as my jacket and cell phone. He looked up at me, confused.

"I can tell that you're not in a state where this would go well and romantic, so um...I'm leaving." I declared softly, just as I was headed to the living room door, he stood in front of it, stopping me. I wrinkled my eyebrows, startled. "Michael, I think you're a little...drunk. Could you just let me leave? So you can sober up a bit?" I suggested, my hand going for the doorknob. He quickly grabbed my arm and twisted slightly, but it still had hurt. I let out a small yelp, "Mike, Mike! You're hurting me!" I hissed under my breath as his grip tightened.

"You're not going anywhere. Not until I figure out why." Mike demanded, pulling me closer to him.

"It's not a big deal. I just...I just don't want to!" I yelled out, snatching my arm from him. He had then had a look of irate in his eyes, and I grew frightened. I quickly ran off out of his living room, and into the den area where it led to his backyard. Before I could even think about turning around to see if he was chasing me, I ran off into the streets, frightened for my own safety. I was running back to Lola's house, where I knew it was safe.

When I got there, I opened the door, hoping it was unlocked, and it was. I jerked in like my fear had done it, and I was breathing harshly. Lola was spinning the night at Shaun's house, like always as it seemed. I closed the door and locked it, hoping that he wouldn't come back. I closed my eyes tightly and had my back against the door, I covered my head.

Just as I was sobbing, someone started knocking harshly on the front door, and it made me jump. Michael.

"Go-Go away!" I demanded, crying my eyes out.

"It's me, Brandon. Let me in!" The guy begged. I started at the doorknob as tears started pouring out of my eyes, one by one. I quickly unlocked the door and Brandon had quickly squatted down beside me as I was on my knees, scared. "What's wrong? I was just about to come here when I saw you running inside. What happened?" He asked, touching my shoulder with great concern.

I quickly hugged him, not saying a word. I was so happy to see Brandon; I knew he'd protect me. Instead of him begging for the answer, he hugged me back, his face still filled with curiosity. I stood up slowly and looked outside, and closed the door.

"Now, tell me what's wrong? What happened? Was it Michael?" He questioned, his green eyes softening. I sniffed and wiped my eyes due to the tears, nodding. Brandon stared at me for a little while and stood up, walking out.

I grabbed his arm, "No! He'd just hurt you! He's drunk, Brandon!" I was begging for Brandon not to do anything he'd regret later on, I mean, if he would even live to regret anything. Michael's very scary when he's drunk, and he usually does things before thinking it through. Brandon had stopped pulling back, and he turned faced towards me. As a tear fell from my eye again, he gazed at me for a little while, and quickly went back to hugging me, tightly.

"Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you," He assured apologetically, like it was his fault. I continued sobbing, gripping onto him harder. He finally stood up, and I did the same as tears continued coming out of my eyes. Brandon took one look at me, "You look like you need some alone time," He figured, going to the door.

"No. Don't leave." I begged, tugging on his arms. He raised an eyebrow as a reply. "Lola isn't coming back tonight. He'll just come over, please, stay! I don't want to be alone." I hissed in a panicky voice tone. Brandon gazed at me and pursed his lips up, forming a straight line.

He ruffled his hair, "Of course I'd stay for you. Let me just, get some things. I'll be back...okay?" He backed away slowly as he opened the door. I held onto his hand, finally letting go of it as I realized that it would be best for him to get his things for spinning the night. School was also tomorrow, so I knew he needed his things for getting ready.

The whole time he left, I was biting my fingernails, so afraid that Michael would be drunk enough to find me and start yelling at me some more. I hope he sobers up tomorrow, so then I could actually tell him about his drinking control without him squeezing the life out of my arm. When Brandon arrived with his BMW, he had a small duffel bag, and placed it on the couch. He closed the door and locked it, turning to face me. I bit my lip as I was still a little worried.

A smile had appeared on his face, and he approached me with open arms, hugging me while I sat down helplessly on one of the couches.

"Don't worry, Heather," He whispered, which for some reason sounded like music to my ears. I held onto him, hoping he was right at the same time. He let go of me and brushed the hair out of my face, with a small smile on his face. For some reason, I knew he wouldn't lie to me, so I started slowly recovering, knowing that it was going to be okay.

After that little emotional episode, I found Brandon sleeping beside me. Well, I was in the bed sheets, but he wasn't. I slept in pure darkness, afraid to go asleep. I couldn't stop replaying when Michael almost had hurt me completely, and if I didn't have the guts and strength to snatch away, what could he have done?

I closed my eyes tightly, trying hard not to think about it. I turned away from the moonlight seeping onto me, and faced Brandon, who was clearly knocked out. I smiled softly, trying to just forget what happened and go to sleep.

I trust Brandon, and if he says it's going to be okay, then it's going to be okay.

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