Mickey's Lessons on Bad

Lesson 30: Haters Have To Hate

       “It’s your guys’ Christmas,” Michelle stated. If it was anyone else, she would stepped away from their close proximity. Since it was Mickey, she enjoyed this and even on a topic she hated most, she didn’t want to move. “I’m just a strang–”

       His lips covered hers, cutting her off from what she was saying. When he pulled away, he murmured, “Call yourself a stranger again and you will become one.”

       Her hands rested on his chest and slid up to shoulders then draped around his neck. “If I do that, then I’ll be able to skip Christmas,” she responded jokingly, going on her tippy toes and softly kissing him. This boy’s lips should be illegal… They’re way too intoxicating.

       Mickey didn’t try pulling way as he kissed her hard, allowing his hands to slip to her butt. He gave a small squeeze before picking her up, not breaking from the kiss.

       Michelle’s legs wrapped around his waist. She loved each time this would happen. Their kisses were just amazing, in her opinion at least, and they would get even better whenever they would be continued and turned into makeout sessions. Not yet has their makeout sessions turned into anything more, which Michelle prefered. She rather savor their times together and have it only occasions, rather than become sex craved addicts or whatever would come from that.

       Before she knew it, her back was up against the wall as Mickey took the new support as an opportunity to run his hands over her body.

       A throat cleared and someone said, “I prefer not having my son and his girlfriend getting it on in the foyer of my household.”

       Their kiss broke apart and Michelle’s legs dropped to the ground, having Mickey’s arm around her waist to make sure she wouldn’t fall. Her face was on fire at the sight of Ella standing at the top of the stairs, smirking down at them.

       “Only kisses were shared, Mommy,” Mickey chimed, not making the situation any better.

       “Of course you were, my son. That’s why you were groping her, right?”

       He snorted, draping an arm around her waist and stating, “Mom, please, refrain from using words like grope. You’re a grown woman.”

       “What are you; my dad?” she scoffed, walking away from the stairs.

       “So, do I still have to go to the dance?” Michelle inquired sweetly, grabbing Mickey’s hand and swaying her shoulders from side to side. She looked up at him with her biggest, sweetest puppy dog eyes. “I rather just stay here… at home… with you... alone.”

       He didn’t look the slightest persuaded. “Haters have to hate, but they,” he tapped her nose with his free hand, “don’t always get what they want.” Mickey stepped away from her, pulling his hand away, and walked off.

       “Asshole.”

       “I heard that.”

       “You were supposed to,” Michelle chortled in a bitter voice, crossing her arms.

 *

Her hands flattened out the lime green dress that had a cherry red belt wrapped around her waist as she stared at the reflection of herself. Did she look fine? Her hands flew to her hair to brush strands from her eyes, trying to make herself look and feel as perfect as possible.

          Why does she even care about how she looked?

          She was going to be spending much time with her date, seeing as that she was on the student council and had to make sure that everything was utterly perfect.