Mickey's Lessons on Bad

Lesson 7: It's Curses- Not Cusses

       If glares could kill, Michelle’s older sister would be dead. She glared at her and stood up. “I’m going back to my room,” she sneered, walking out of the room. Before she closed the door, she heard Megan call out, “The truth may hurt, but not for you!”

       Michelle walked into her room, knowing better than to slam the door– no matter how angry or annoyed Megan made her. But, the moment she closed that door, she pressed her back against it for support as she felt her strength finally dissipated from her legs. She slowly slid down under her butt hit the floor.

       Tears filled her eyes. Tears of anger, pain, annoyance, and more pain.

       This entire time, everyone thought that Michelle was over Logan. Even the people that knew her dirty secret of her "relationship" with Mickey believed that she was over him. She's not.

       Every night– every single night–, she cried herself to sleep. Cried about the fact that she lost her best friend and first love. Cried about the fact that Logan was most likely having steamy sex with some girl, unsure whether it'd be that Jules chick still– or whatever her name was.

       Everyone just assumed.

       Michelle slapped a hand over her mouth as her body began to tremble and sobs escaped her lips. She sat like that for God knows how long until she could hear the vibration of her cellphone from her desk. She forgot it today, so she didn't have it for the mall.

       Unable to force herself up, she ended up practically crawling to the phone. Her hand reached onto the desk and she felt around the desk until her fingers landed on something cool and brought it down. The number was unknown, but she answered it anyways, wiping tears away and forcing the trembling in her voice away, "Hello?"

       "What's wrong?"

       She pulled the phone away for a moment to stare at it in utter confusion then brought it back to her ear. "Mickey? H-How did you get my number?" she asked, all thoughts of Logan and everything she was currently crying about slightly disappearing. She knew she never gave him or Ronnie her number.

       "I got it from Tami after you left with the Malone brothers," he answered, but there was concern still in his voice. "Now, tell me what's wrong. Why were you crying?"

       "I'm not," she lied.

       "Bullshit. Did someone make you cry? I'm going to fucking kick their ass."

       With every curse, Michelle would cringe. "Hey; can you not cuss so much?" she requested. "I hate cusses."

       "First off, it's curses– not cusses," he sneered, adding a mocking, girlish tone to the word 'cusses'. "Secondly, if you want to be a bad ass chick, you gotta curse. That'll be lesson seven. Thirdly, tell me who fucking hurt you. Are you hurt?"

       "I am," she admitted, mentally cringing at every curse word that came from Mickey. Such a foul language shouldn't come from such a beautiful mouth. Then she added before Mickey could respond, "But it's not a physical wound, Mickey. I-I... It hurts. My heart– It does."

       "Get your ass outside."

       "What? Why?"

       Some noise came from the other line and Mickey snapped, "Just go outside. I'm not in the fucking mood for your questioning."

       So, that means you're in the mood for my emotional problems? Michelle retorted in her mind. If it was anyone, but Mickey, she would've voiced it. But from the sound of his voice... "Fine, but I'll have to sneak out from my window. There's something going in here."