broken home ~m.c.~

9

I gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles looked like they could burst. I turned down the gravel driveway and Michael grabbed my hand from across the center console. I slowed to a stop and parked my car, not making the move to get out. The large white house stared at me and I couldn't find the courage to go inside.

"Ready?" Michael asked and I nodded, taking a shaky breath.

We got out of the car and Michael intertwined our fingers, gripping my hand tightly. We walked up to the front door and before he could knock, I tugged his arm to look at me.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" I asked and Michael smiled, not knowing why I was so nervous.

"Positive." He reassured and Michael nodded, knocking on the door.

It opened and my mom came into view, her fake blonde hair standing out against her overly tanned skin. She offered a smile, letting us in and Michael introduced himself, shaking my dad's hand. We all went to the kitchen and Michael and I sat down next to each other. I sighed to myself as I noticed what was on our plates. It was some fancy fish and rice.

"So, Michael, what do you do?" Dad asked, taking a drink of his water.

"My mates and I are in a band." He smiled.

"You two are meant to be, I guess." Mom said, a certain look on her face and I bit my tongue, pushing the food around my plate. "Does this band support you?"

"Yes, ma'am." Michael answered and I wanted to snort since he said ma'am. "Do you work?"

"Of course." Mom smiled. "James and I own a law company. Soon to be Brooklyn's if she ever went to school." Mom looked at me and I dug my nails into my thighs.

"Oh, Brooklyn, I found some of your old dance trophies in your room. I don't understand why you ever quit." I stayed silent and Michael grabbed my hand under the table.

"Have you gotten any more of those pointless tattoos?" Mom asked and I nodded.

"They aren't pointless." I muttered, stabbing my fork in the fish. "Michael has tattoos." I blurted, immediately regretting it.

"You do know that they are permanent?" Dad said and I nodded. "I boxed up Seth's stuff if you want it."

"Why would you box his stuff up?" I asked, looking over at him and Dad shrugged.

"His room was taking up space. I needed a new office." He said and I felt my eyes widen.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked, not caring that I was cursing.

"Don't curse your father." Mom chastised and I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever." I mumbled, not wanting to get into this.

~~~~~~~~

"Thank you for dinner." Michael smiled at my parents as we walked to his car.

"Nice meeting you." Dad stiffly said and I ignored Mom's attempt to hug me.

Michael and I got in the car and I quickly pulled out of the driveway. I bit my lip as I pulled onto the main road and I noticed Michael kept looking at me. He sighed and I ignored it, getting onto the highway.

"Well," He spoke up. "That was interesting."

"Please don't, Michael." I mumbled, glancing over at him.

"I don't get it." He said. "You have the perfect family and you act like you hate it."

"My family is not perfect." I said.

"Sure seems like it." He snapped and I almost wanted to stop the car.

"Nothing about my family is perfect, Michael!" I practically shouted.

"How is it not? You have the big white house and lawyer parents. Everything is so prim and proper. I couldn't even put my arm around you because they would send me fucking daggers. I just don't see how you can't like it there."

I parked at the apartment and got out, slamming my car door behind me. I stalked up the steps and pushed into the apartment, walking to the bedroom. I kicked off my heels and stripped off the pastel dress, grabbing some shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt. I heard Michael come in and he tossed his dress shirt off, putting on a t-shirt.

"I can't even be happy in that house because my parents find some way to make everything bad. Please tell me how perfect it sounds to get a check in the mail every month from your parents instead of a phone call or visit. They never tell me that they love me or hug me. So, for the love of god, never say that my family is perfect." I said, keeping my voice level, not wanting to get emotional about this.

I left the bedroom and went to the kitchen, opening the fridge. I grabbed a beer and opened the bottle, taking a large drink. I made my way to the balcony and grabbed a cigarette, lighting the end. I took a drag and let the smoke fill the air around me. The sliding door slid open and Michael stepped out, leaning against the railing next to me.

"You know I hate when you smoke." He mumbled and I rolled my eyes, taking another breath of smoke.

"You seem to know a lot about me today." I snapped and Michael reached over, taking the cigarette out of my hands. He threw it down and stomped on it, making me frown.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He whispered and turned me to face him. "I didn't know how bad it was."

"Now you can see why I never talk about them." I said quietly, peering up at him. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"I think you're quite cute when you're mad." He slightly laughed and I shyly looked down, smiling a little. "I love you," Michael nudged my shoulder and I looked over at him.

"I love you, too." I mumbled and he ducked his head to kiss me.

"Now, let's order pizza because that fish was awful." I laughed and nodded.

"Thank god."