thursday - march sixteenth

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calum --

from: michael from the diner
good morning gorgeous ;)

to: michael from the diner
i think you have the wrong number, have you seen my face?

from: michael from the diner
stfu calum, i'm trying to be cute! so how are you today cupcake

to: michael from the diner
bored tbh. i finished all my homework early so i'm just sitting on the couch playing on my nintendo 64

from: michael from the diner
you're such a nerd. can i come over?

to: michael from the diner
yeah! when?

from: michael from the diner
now? or later if now isn't an option

to: michael from the diner
no now is fine, just give me a 15 minute head start to get ready

from: michael from the diner
okay! & get ready? are you naked or something?

to: michael from the diner
maybe
...
bye

i click off my phone and run upstairs, surprising myself when i don't trip, and into my bedroom. i take the shortest shower of my life and tug on black skinny jeans with holes in the knees and a red and black baseball shirt.

by the time i'm done blowdrying my hair, michael texts me that he's here and that i need to get my 'cute lil ass' downstairs to let him in. my hair is burning my head when i open the door, revealing a perfect looking michael. i almost choke.

"well, hello there," michael says, and pecks me on the cheek. "how are you cupcake?"

i shrug, then hold up my index and run into the kitchen. yesterday i bought a composition book to write in.

well i was bored but i don't think that's a problem anymore

"sexual," he notes and smirks at me, pushing me into the living room. i sit on the couch and michael sits between my legs, his back against my chest. my arms instinctively pull him tighter into me, so his black hair tickles my nose. i try my hardest not to sneeze on his head.

he's drawing in my notebook, and i'm playing an old mario game, and everything is peaceful and perfect. then michael closes the notebook and tosses it to the side, turning to face me. i pause my game.

"can we make out?"

i nod. he kisses me, gently at first and gradually harder, much like the members in our pants. i tug on his hair, bringing him closer with one hand and palming him with the other. his hands cup my face, his touch sending shivers down my spine. all i can do is moan and i hope he doesn't mind the sound, but then he pulls away and seems to giggle.

i give a confused expression and he says, "your little moans are so fucking cute, cupcake."

i roll my eyes and bring him back to me, pulling the zipper down on his maroon skinny jeans. he takes my hand and nods his head to the stairwell, and within seconds he's on top of me as we lay on my mattress, his lips exploring my neck and giving me hickeys my friends will tease me about.

he pulls away again to say something, and i curse my ears for interrupting us. "no sex, alright? not that i don't like you, or anything, but i'm still a virgin, you know?" i nod, agreeing. i'm a virgin, too, and his idea of making his first time special is identical to mine.

we go back to making out, having at least ten minutes before the next interruption. this time my bedroom door opens and there he is, michael clifford in the flesh.

"shit," he mumbles and the boy on top of me rolls over to the side, his hand finding mine. "i'm sorry, i- i didn't know... can i talk to you for a minute, callie?"

waiter michael looks at me with a worried and confused expression. "do you two have something going on?"

i shake my head furiously, and michael says something i don't catch.

"oh. go talk to him, i'll wait," michael says and i get up to follow the red-head downstairs.

"what the fuck is he doing here?" he asks, and i almost want to slap him with my notebook.

um i think it's obvious michael

"whatever, i'm here because of this." he pulls the whiteboard out of a grocery bag sitting on the couch. why did he bring a grocery bag?

thanks for returning it

"you said you were sick. planning to give your boyfriend the flu?"

i'm feeling better now and he's not my boyfriend

"really? explain the two of you basically having sex up there, then?"

why the fuck do you care? you're fucking straight and you have a girlfriend!!

"i care because i was worried about you, callie."

don't call me that

"fine, whatever. bye."

he leaves, my whiteboard on the ground and the grocery bag still on the couch. i take a peek in it, finding chocolates and movies and ibuprofen.

i don't cry. i just go back upstairs and kiss the good michael until he has to leave for work. then i cry.

a/n: this is so confusing ¿ so many updates god bless

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