Corrupt Me || Cleave (boyxboy)

Corrupt Me - 1

Micah

"Micah, it's time to get up, sweetie. It's your first day of school!" my mother called from the kitchen. The smell of freshly-made pancakes wafted throughout the house, and I immediately did as I was told and dragged myself out of my bed. I slowly made my way out my bedroom door and down the hall until I reached the kitchen, where my eyes found the rest of my family sitting at the table.

I mumbled a quick 'hello' to the general vicinity, as I slumped down in my usual seat next to Georgia.
She put her arm around my shoulders. "You excited about starting at Hillcrest today?" she asked, shaking me a little.
I sighed. "I guess..."

I was the only one in the family who would be starting at Hillcrest Christian College as a new student; my three sisters had been attending since they started high school. I, however, had been attending an all-boys school for practically my entire school career. My parents decided at the end of last year that I needed to get socialised (whatever the hell heck that's supposed to mean). I actually think it's because they were worried that I've never had a girlfriend and they hoped that, by going to a co-ed school, I'll be able to find a nice, Christian (of course) girl and settle down and provide my parents with a few grandkids (after getting married, obviously because heaven forbid I make any children before I'm married! That was sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell). If it wasn't already obvious, my family is super religious.

"MJ? Micah? Hellooooo..."
"Huh?"
"You zoned out," Georgia informed me. "We're about to thank the Lord for our food."
"Oh," I replied, shutting my eyes and bowing my head.
"Dear Lord," my father's voice rang out over the table, "We thank you for this food that you have provided for us today and we pray that you will watch over us today as we head to school and work. We pray these things in Your name. Amen."

I like it when my father prays. He actually gets to the point, unlike my mother who rambles on for a million years, thanking God for every flower that she saw in the neighbour's yard and the stray dog that followed her part of the way home from work and every single child she came in contact with that day at school (she works at the local elementary school, teaching first grade) and every place our food for that meal came from and...well, you get the idea. My mother could easily spend her entire life praying.

I slowly ate my breakfast, savouring it. I love pancakes, especially with ice cream and fresh strawberries. My family thinks I'm weird for putting an extremely cold substance on a warm pancake, but I don't care. It tastes good, so I'm going to continue eating my breakfast that way whether my family like it or not.

As soon as I put the last bit of pancake in my mouth (dribbling a little bit of ice cream down my chin while I was at it), my mother took my plate away and placed it in the sink.

"Oh, Micah, wipe your chin. And then go and get dressed. Your father and I will drop you and the girls off at school this morning, but usually you'll be catching the bus, okay."
"Yes, mom," I sighed. I'd heard all these transport arrangements at least half a dozen times before.

I got to my feet and made my way back into my bedroom. I'd had a shower the night before (because for some reason, mom and dad don't like it when my sisters and I have showers in the mornings), so I went straight to my closet. I scrutinized my clothes. My old school had uniforms, so I never had to worry about what I was going to wear to school, but Hillcrest was different. Students could wear whatever they wanted, as long as it wasn't offensive or showed too much skin. I finally, after much deliberation, decided to wear my best jeans (a pair of light grey skinnies) and a plain, fairly tight-fitting black t-shirt. I quickly threw on my clothes before heading out of my bedroom and into the bathroom I shared with my sisters.