Damn, You're Cute (Michael Clifford)

Chapter 72

Twenty minutes later, Michael and I were standing at some guy's front door with my hand in his.

For some reason, our fingers were always linked together. It was odd to me, yet completely comforting at the same time. My parents had never openly showed affection like holding hands or quick kisses, so the change was nice. I didn't know how they could stand it, not having someone to wrap their arms around them and kiss the top of their head like Michael occasionally did to me.

"And you're sure Calum is here?" I asked with a shiver. There was a slight breeze rippling through the dark night, fluttering the skirt of my dress.

Michael shrugged, but his eyes were wary. They followed the frame of the door before landing on the handle. "That's what he said."

"Should we knock or...?" Michael pushed open the door without a second thought, like he knew it would be unlocked, and pulled me along behind him.

It was loud. The music was pulsing with every beat and the air was stuffy, although there weren't as many people as I was used to. Usually at the parties I had experienced, there were tons of teenagers dancing in a pack of sweaty bodies, but this was different. The people here were a bit older and not dancing so much as they were separated in small groups, talking to each other over the loud music with beer bottles in their hands. Some of them were lethargic, their motions obviously slightly drowsy, and some had cigarettes between their fingers. It looked like the type of place where Damien would be, but I prayed to God that he wouldn't show up.

"Half these people are stoned," Michael remarked over the music and gripped my hand tighter as if I might slip away. "We need to find Calum."

I didn't see why it was so crucial to find him tonight, but Michael was set on it. He almost looked worried, which of course only made me nervous. I knew we should probably make sure our friend wasn't too drunk, but it wasn't like this was a new occurrence. All of us got drunk every once and awhile, and Calum was a partier. It was to be expected.

Michael led me into the kitchen where more people were sitting on counters and drunkenly laughing loudly. I did catch one couple feverishly making out in the corner so I quickly looked away.

"Damn it," Michael muttered and ran his free hand through his hair. His eyes wandered to every face in the room, searching for signs of Calum.

I tugged his arm so the attention was on my face instead. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he assured me, but his eyes flitted away. "I just don't know where he is."

"I don't understand why we're here," I complained with a small frown. "If every time one of our friends got drunk and we went to go find them, we'd never have time to do anything. Why can't we just let him have his fun tonight?"

"He may be having just a little too much fun," Michael said eerily. Something was up, but I didn't understand. Yes, Calum was saying things he didn't mean earlier, but he was harmlessly drunk...right?

I sighed. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Look, this isn't exactly my first time here," he told me with regret laced in his tone. It was almost impossible to imagine Michael fitting in with this crowd or drinking in this house. "I told you my high school years were a bit fucked up before you showed up...The people here, they're bad news."

"Bad news?" I repeated with a gulp. "What did they do?"

"They're just...intimidating," Michael explained and I didn't feel comforted by it. Usually just by looking at him, people shied away, so who could possibly intimidate Michael himself?

"How are they intimidating?" I pressed for more information. Michael didn't often tell me about his life before senior year.

He grimly looked down at me. "Let's just say they're hard to say no to."