Chapter 51: April Fools for the Fools

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A/N: 6 chapters left in the story!

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"Gimme the phone," Michael growls and I can't even hand it over before he's snatching it out of my hand, scratching me and I whisper ouch. He presses the phone to his ear and flips the covers back angrily and gets up from the bed. "Don't be callin my damn phone at this time of the morning, fuck wrong witchu?"

I immediately cringe at the way he's talking to him right now. You could hear the anger and the obvious pent up frustration and hatred that Michael held for his father. I reach over cutting on the light as Michael begins pacing the floor. You could even see his veins on his hands from him gripping his phone so tight. I swear if he gripped it any tighter he would break it.

"Oh so now you wanna be my father and try to discipline me? Ten years too late nigga," Michael mumbles. "Don't be callin my phone you hear me? Whatever you gotta ask go ask them other kids that you got wit that other woman.... Awe y'all ain't together no mo? Too bad." and nothing else is said because Michael hangs up the phone.

I stare at him in fear and when he whips around it makes me jump. I guess he notices that I was scared because his face softens and then his eyes look elsewhere and he hisses.

"You bleedin'," he says, speaking to me in his soft tone before going into the bathroom.

I look down at my hand seeing the little gash that Michael had given me on the side of my hand a little ways down from the knuckle on my thumb. I didn't even notice it was bleeding and I didn't even feel the burning that it did because I was focused on him. It wasn't anything too excruciating obviously. He comes from the bathroom with a wet paper towel and kneels down on the bed grabbing my hand and wiping the blood from the cut.

"Damn baby I'm sorry" he apologizes wiping at the cut again. "I ain't even know..." He looks up at me with apologetic eyes and I nod my head.

"It's okay." I smile slyly at him and he sighs before getting up and going over to his suitcase.

After shuffling through it for almost ten minutes he finally comes back with a box of Band-Aids and Neosporin in his hand. At least I couldn't say that he wasn't prepared although I felt a little surprised and caught off guard that Michael thought to bring this sort of stuff, but he was a pretty safe person so then again I guess I could believe it. After rubbing some Neosporin on the cut he takes a Band-Aid out of the box and tears off the wrapping before putting it on for me.

"It really wasn't that serious," I chuckle while examining the Band-Aid. "But thank you."

He smiles and nods his head.

"So" I begin but Michael shakes his head. "Michael," I whine but he continues with the head shaking. "Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Semaj." He says getting up to throw away the paper and put the Band-Aid's and Neosporin back in his suitcase.

"At least tell me what he was talking about?"

"Some bull shit bout comin from California after three years and wantin' to meet wit me 'bout runnin something for him." Michael shrugs his shoulders and stressfully runs his hands over his face. "Damn that just pissed me the fuck off all over again!" He growls and plops back down on the bed. I finally move out of my place on my side and knee-walk my way over behind him, running my fingers through his hair.

"Who told him where you were? Matter of fact who gave him the number? And California? I thought you said he was living in New Orleans."

"My mother," Michael mumbles and then shrugs, "shit I thought his ass was in New Orleans."

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