My Wattpad Stalker(A Love to Die For)

Chapter 8) I lacked a title for this chapter.

A/N
WARNING: I did not properly edit this chapter. If you see "ReadPad" instead of Wattpad, it's because ReadPad is meant to go into the soon-to-be-published version of the book. Sorry for the confusion, thank you for reading! :)

PS- Yes, the title of this chapter is due to me not actually having a title for it. ;)

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Within twenty minutes, I somehow managed to pack up the majority of my room into two large duffle bags. I didn't need my comforter or pillow for I already had a bedroom back at my moms. The only possessions I really wanted to take were clothes that I don't want to leave behind, along with my cell phone and laptop. Maybe this was only my anger in the moment, but I didn't find myself wanting to come back to my dad's anytime soon.

If he wanted to ground me for something Blair started, then fine. I had another home to move into. Granted, the mere thought of moving in full time with my mom and her boy-toy frightened me to no end, but it's better than staying here and being grounded. I finally got everything in order, but I felt let down as I spotted Raphael's tank. I couldn't hold onto him and my two bags.

"Damn," Imuttered, wondering if I should make two trips or one. I couldn't leave myturtle, and I don't really want toencounter my dad and Blair downstairs and then come back in to make anothertrip. I also don't want Kim to get in trouble with her mom by assisting meon leaving.
As I pondered my slight predicament, a voice spoke. "Here...I'll helpyou." To my surprise Michael was actually in my room. He lookedbored as he easily slung both heavy duffel bags of mine over his shoulders bythe straps. The look on my face must have read utter confusion because heshrugged at me. "What?"
I couldn't help but watch him with a cocked brow. We've gone through years ofdisliking each other, and yet, he just walked into my room to help me as ifit's something he would just naturally do. It was odd at best.
"Oh, let me guess. You want the problem child out quicker." I nod with aglare, trying to figure out what his motive is for picking up my bags.Does he want to kick me while I'm already feeling down? He wouldn't have to trytoo hard. This was on record the worst argument my dad and I had ever had.
"Way to jump to the worst conclusion," Michael replied coolly,not even batting an eyelash at my harshness. He made no move towards thedoor, clearly waiting for me to go first.
"Why else would you help me?"
Michael watched me soundlessly before gently shrugging. "You didn't looklike you could carry it all. Honestly, I'm also kind of a sucker for whengirls cry," he muttered, avoiding eye contact. He sounded sincere.
Dabbing at my eyes, I found fresh tears were in them. I really hadn't evennoticed I had started crying until he mentioned it. Picking up Raphael'sslightly heavy tank, I made my way out of the room with Michael following me.
My dad and Blair were now nowhere to be found once we weredownstairs. Michael turned to me, obviously guessing who it was I waslooking for. "They left to pick up Will from a friends house. Somethingabout smoking cigarettes," he explained with a roll of his eyes. He headedtowards the front door.
I half considered finding Kim to tell her I was leaving, but I decided itwould be too painful to face her. She would most likely try convincing me tostay, but I wasn't willing to come across my dad and Blair again tonight. "She'snot here either," said Michael, returning from outside. He was good atreading people. "She went with them. Come on," he said gently,beckoning for me to follow after him.
We were on the road for ten minutes with no words exchanged. My jeep wasat my mom's house already, courtesy of Myles having dropped me off at my dad'searlier. I regretted not simply driving myself to my dad's tonight. The silenceduring the drive with Michael quickly became palpable. I'm not too sure of whatto even say to break the quiet. This was worse than the silence withConner. This was someone I had known for over four years but had nevertried speaking to unless he instigated the conversation. It then hit me. I hadnever went out of my way to talk to any of the Kessler siblings. Kim had beenthe one to first start a conversation when we had met.
"Thank-you," I finally say, thankful my tears have stopped.
"Sure," he said, taking the interstate. "Uh...Where am Igoing?"
"You'll take a left on the Cone boulevard exit, and then another left whenyou hit the light," I sighed, drying my eyes that betrayed me with pitifultears.
He nodded his sandy colored head. "I don't think I've ever seen your momsplace before."
"We've never really been on friendly terms before."
Even though this was nothing but the truth, it caused him to wince."Yeah...I'm sorta sorry about that."
"Sorta?"
He grimaced at my sarcasm. "It's hard trying to be friendly to thedaughter of the man who helped screw up your parents' marriage."
"Yeah," I agree quietly, not being able to argue that. Still, thatone word from me was tinged with sadness. It wasn't my fault my dad had loosemorals that he destroyed someone else's marriage.
Michael snorted. "You can't agree, you're my sisters'best friend."
"We didn't like each other the first day we met," I offered,remembering the awful day my dad and Blair had forced us all go to a movietogether in an attempt to bond. It had beensuch an awful experience, twelve-year-old Kim and I ended up bonding over ourmutual thinking that our parent's idea was just plain idiotic. It was tooforced of an event. I didn't explain that after that experiment Kim and I werepractically inseparable.
"True," he mused before pulling off the boulevard towards theupcoming turn.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he asked me where to go next. As Ilooked at him for a near second, I was slightly reminded of the smallcrush I held for him when we first met. When he smiled, he gave a dazzlingdimpled grin that could give you a case of the butterflies. Hewas incredibly good looking with his strong cheek bones and boy-next-doorlooks. What broke my small crush was realizing how big of a jerk he was. Afterthat, I avoided him like the plague. As we eventually pull up to my mom's four-bedroomranch, Michael pulled into the driveway. "You guys don't really live nearyour neighbors," he offered as conversation, glancing down the longstretches of space spread between the houses. There was a strong separationbetween each house, about the length of a football field between each house.This was a semi-wealthy neighborhood, although the only celebrities we livednear were two retired soap opera stars and a guy who competed in the PGA.
"Yeah...It works in our favor. You never see nude sunbathers in thebackyard," I say, remembering an ugly memory where my father'seighty-two-year-old neighbor was sunbathing butt naked nextdoor. Michael would know what I'm referring to becausepractically everyone has seen Mr. Rogersswimming or tanning in the nude at some point. You don't know scary until yousee that many wrinkles in terrifying places.
"That must be nice," he laughed, grabbing ahold of my bags from thebackseat. "I mean, not as nice as seeing old man Rogers in the nude,"he teased, causing me to grin. "That's a true thing of beauty."
A weird prickle stings me. The hairs on the back of my neck slide erect as Ireceive the very strange sensation that I'm being watched. It was the samefeeling I had after I left Conner earlier. It wasn't Michael; he's preoccupiedwith heading towards my front door. Strangely I can't seem to find anyonespecifically looking my direction as I look towards the street and theneighbor's house. Adjusting Raphael's tank in my arms so I don't drop him, Ifollowed Michael up to my door. "You really didn't have to help me,"I offer quietly, causing him to glance behind at me.
He grimaced. "Yeah, I did. My mom can be a pain in the ass when she tries.It wasn't fair how she went after you like that."
I wasn't aware he had been around to overhear us.
"Still..." I said, feeling so weird he and I are actually sharing acivil conversation. "You didn't have to, so, I appreciate it."
He nodded as we approached my door.
"Can I ask you something?" I throw out, causing him to turn to me withraised brows. "Why do you still live with her?" Michaellooked to me with curious eyes, saying nothing. His silence showed heclearly wanted me to elaborate. "I mean, you have the chance ofliving anywhere you want, anywhere in the world...Why staywith her and my dad?"
Michael sighed as he adjusted one of the bags he was carrying. "Becausebelieve it or not, I actually care about my youngersiblings....Will...He's struggling, big time. I've been trying to get him onthe straight and narrow for a while now, and I'm only finally startingto make a dent in him. If I leave...Go off to school like I want...He's gonnabe a mess."
I suppose this was true. Will Kessler has been behaving a littlebetter ever since Michael came home. The thought makes me feel slightlyguilty. "Well, now I actually feel bad for all the times I made funof you," I admit sheepishly, causing him to laugh.
"Yeah, well, I've given as good as I got." He smirked.
"You sure? Because I've thrown some real zingers."
"Nothing I couldn't handle, blondie," Michael smiledplayfully as I began to unlock the door.
We were beat to the punch however as the front door flew open, revealing mydistraught mother. Her eye make-up is heavily smudged as she looked like shehad been crying for a while. My eyes winced. It's that timeof the month again. The inevitable break up, complete with moaning and groaningover how horrible she is at relationships along with her painful whining thatno one will ever love her. "I... I'm sorry...I thought youwere..." she sniffed, trailing off as she was about to say Diego'sname.
"No...Just me," I mutter quietly, walking inside to setRaphael's tank on the floor.
Turning back to Michael in the doorway, he looked massively uncomfortable. Ifhe didn't know how to handle my light sprinkling of tears, the situation of agrown woman bawling her eyes out must have rendered him speechless. My mothercontinued to sniffle and cry nearby, not retreating into the house where hertears wouldn't be seen. After a few long seconds of silence,Michael looked unsure of what to do or say, as if out of fear hewould make the situation worse by contributing speech. Walkingover I grabbed the bags from him, and I keep my voice low. "I'msorry." I was sure to whisper so my blubbering mess of a mother could notoverhear.
"Uh...She okay?"
"Yeah...She uh...She's...Yeah..." I mumble stupidly, not wanting toexplain this to Michael that this war par for the course behavior for my mom.If this were Kim or Myles, either of them would just nod in understanding overmy mother's immature behavior. No words would have needed to be spoken. Michaelwas a bit of a stranger, technical stepbrother and all.
"So... Thanks again, I'll talk to you later." I half waved, causingMichael to nod politely.
"See you later, Belle."
As I watched him leave, I couldn't help but think of how strange this was. Whowould've thought Michael Kessler was capable kindness towards anotherhuman. It was only as my mom came back into the room as she dabbed at hereyes did she give a soft hiccup. "Hi sweetie. What are you doinghere, and who was that handsome young man?"
My eyes winced by the wording handsome. Yes, he was, but it was odd hearingthat phrase from my mother regarding my stepbrother. "That was Michael.He's Kim's brother."
After explaining to her that I was done dealing with dad always allowing Blair to treatme like the leper of the family, I noticed she was barely payingattention to what I was talking about. She was noddingalong to what I'm saying, but she wasn't actually listening towhat I was saying. It was then realized that I probably could have confessed toan armed robbery and she wouldn't have heard me. She was so preoccupiedwith her boyfriend drama she didn't truly tune in to a word I said. Myshoulders gave a slight slump. "What happened with Diego?" I askedpolitely, realizing this is the only topic she wants to talk about.
Cora sniffled, stopping herself from a full-blown cry. "W-Well, I receivedsome pervy texts from some random person, and Diego thought I was stepping outon him."
"That's it?"
That was a ridiculously stupid reason to break up with someone. It's notthe twenty-year age gap between him and his girlfriend, orthat she is actually the appropriate age to be his own mother...It'sbecause she got a wrong-number text. I shook my head at the absurdity.
"Mom, you'll find someone better, that's just stupid."
My mom shook her blonde head sadly. "Well, there were also flowers senthere for me."
"Huh?"
My mother motioned behind me to a vase of flowers on her kitchen counter. AsI looked up to go look over at the strange bouquet, I realize the flowersare completely black. When I approach them, I find thatthey're black roses. They're not wilted, or do they look painted. It looks likethey were grown this way. They're strangely beautiful. The message on the cardwas vague.
~From your number one fan.~
It was most likely from a fan of my mom's. Cora Milano has such a strongfan-base still brewing strong from her modeling days, she still gets plenty offan mail and bouquets of flowers. Although, black roses were a new one.
"Uh....So Diego thought that this meant you're cheating?"
My mom sniffled. "That, and the multiple text messages where a guy said hehad fun at my house... It was enough to look like I wascheating," she said sadly, looking miserable.
"I think I'm going to go to bed," said Cora before slowly getting upfrom the couch.
This was strange. This wasn't normal behavior by any means. Usually after abreakup, my mom hits the town with her college-age friend Johanna. Afterdrowning her sorrows in strawberry daiquiris, she will usually buy a new pet tocompensate for the breakup the next day. I've gotten so used to thistradition, I usually prepare for my night of her breakups to be spent homealone by buying myself a TV dinner and catching a Buffy marathon.
"You're not going out with Johanna?" I ask for clarification, as shestarted to head upstairs.
"No... I think I just need to sleep."
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