Conflict of Interest: A Naturals Fanfiction

Poker Face

"Wait!  You're supposed to help me with the dishes," I remind her.

"April, April, April," she tuts, leaning on the doorframe.  "You really don't get it, do you?  You're new, and I'm not.  Now, if you're not wanting me to share one of your secrets that you certainly don't want anyone else to know about, then I suggest you take care of the dishes yourself."  

How bad's the secret?  I want to ask, but I don't.  "I've spent five years in the foster system.  Washing the dishes is nothing," I say.  "Next time, don't bother threatening me."

I like taking away some of the punch her threat has, but she still looks satisfied as she walks out of the kitchen.  Michael goes to follow her, but I glare at him.  "Nope!  You stay."

"No."

"Yes.  There are still things I need the answers to."

Michael sighs and looks toward the exit.  "Fine, I'll give you ten minutes.  What do you want to know?"

I think for a second, because I hadn't actually thought that far ahead.  I start washing the dishes, and for some reason Michael comes and starts drying them.  Finally, I decide on, "What happened to make me leave?"

Michael dries three plates before answering.  "My parents were hosting some dinner party, and your parents were attending.  We were told to stay upstairs."

I give him a little smirk.  "We didn't listen, did we?"

"Yeah, no.  We were actually really misbehaved kids," he admits, laughing.  "Anyways, we were upstairs when you got the bright idea to prank the adults.  Of course, we didn't realize how important my dad's guests were - apparently he was trying to get one of them to invest a boatload of money into his company.  So we decided to turn off the lights for a minute, just to make them a little scared.  It had been thundering that night, so we thought we wouldn't get caught.  Only, when we went to turn the lights back on, they didn't.  Somehow, we had caused the whole city's power to go out.  My dad was livid, and," he grimaces, "I thought I could save myself from a beating by telling him it was your fault.  He slapped you, right in front of the entire dinner party.  Your parents chewed him out and accused him of being an abusive father, and you were so angry with me that you started to cry.

"After everyone had left, my dad didn't care whose fault it was.  He gave me a beating worse than any others I can remember."  His jaw clenches, and I reach out to squeeze his hand.  "You moved away a week later, and I never got to apologize, because blaming you didn't help me any."

"Wow," I whisper. 

Michael clears his throat.  "Yeah.  It was messed up."

"Okay, just one more question?  How come you were surprised when you read my name in my journal?  If you knew me before I changed my name to April, wouldn't you already know that?"

"No, you went by Emily.  I don't know what your birth name is, but when I saw Ashlynn I finally connected you to your parents, or, the version of them that I read about in the paper.  Somehow they changed enough for me to forget what they looked like.  If it makes you feel any better, I never suspected either of them to be killers."

At this point the dishes are already washed, so I hop up on the counter.  "It took me so long to figure it out," I admit.  Michael doesn't say anything.  Finally I break the silence.  "Thank you."

He moves to stand in front of me.  Placing his hands on either side of my legs, he leans forward.  "You owe me one."

I lean forward, close to his ear, and whisper, "I guess I do."  And then I push him away and hop down.  I walk out the kitchen before he says anything else.  Cassie and Dean are in the living room, on opposite ends of the couch, which I find amusing.  They're watching some freaky TV show, but I don't stick around to watch.  I walk upstairs and flop down on my bed, because I don't have anything else to do.