Softly sighing, Michelle entered her house. But she could tell that something was... off. The usual silence in the house was replaced with her parents’ yelling– one thing she never heard in her life.
Well, she had heard them yelling before, but not towards each other.
Right when Michelle was going to walk into the kitchen, her sister suddenly came barreling down the stairs. “No!” Megan hissed, catching her younger sister’s upper arm. “Don’t go in there!”
She looked over and allowed herself to be dragged up the stairs then into her older sister’s room. Michelle took a seat on the bed and got to the point, “Why are they fighting?”
“Since you’re not home that much, I’m not surprised you know,” Megan murmured, her blue eyes flashing sadness as they stared at the ground. “Dad, as you know, has a drinking problem. You know it, because it’s usually not bad. But lately, he’s been drinking a lot and he’s just...” Her voice trailed off, indicating that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
Even though Michelle wasn’t close to her parents, she knew that Megan was especially to their father. She was pretty much the daddy’s little girl– No, not pretty much. She is daddy’s little girl. “I’m sorry,” Michelle murmured, actually meaning her apology.
Megan just shook her head and wiped a single tear that tried slipping from her eye. “No, it’s fine. I should say sorry to you since you have to deal with him,” she responded and the sisters smiled at each other. Megan also joined their parents in criticizing Michelle, but they still had times of being actual sisters. Their relationship could just be labeled as frenemy. “So, what did you do today at the mall?”
“Shopped.”
Megan cracked a smile at her response. “Hung out with the Mickey Varsity?” she asked knowingly.
“Yeah, but just for a few minutes,” Michelle answered, recalling this morning. “I was mainly with my friends.”
“Spill the beans. Are you and Mickey dating?”
Her face heated up and she murmured, unable to lie to her sister, “It’s complicated.”
Megan arched a skinny eyebrow at her response. “Complicated? Talk to meh, Michie,” she demanded, gesturing her to say more.
Michelle spilled the beans and explained their whole “relationship” from the day Logan dumped her. She even told her sister about the countless times Mickey would kiss her. She couldn’t deny that she actually enjoyed the kisses a lot.
“But do you have any feelings for Mickey?” Megan asked curiously. “Or feel like you’re adapting them? It sounds like you’re pretty much over Logan.”
“I’m not over Logan,” she snapped, now defensive. “We dated for eight years.”
Flipping her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder, Megan shook her head and clicked her tongue at her sister. “You seriously call it eight years of dating? Cooties were still around in the fourth grade, babe.”
“Maybe, we weren’t a romantic couple back then,” Michelle responded in a murmur, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.
“You two became an actual couple by the eighth grade. So, pretty much of three years since he dumped you before the school actually started. Plus, everyone knows that relationships like you two had wasn’t going to last.”
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."
"Oh, trust me, babe," he chortled, "I can hear that something just fine from where I am."
Redness blossomed on her cheeks as she hung up the phone. Her parents were still fighting, but were their yelling a really that loud? Michelle rose to her feet and locked her door, clutching her food since her stupid skirt had no pockets and she knew that the more time she'd waste getting on pants, the more annoyed Mickey would get. He's very impatient.
She opened her window and went down on the roof that was fortunately located in front of her window. She went down it then jumped and landed on her feet. This wouldn't be the first time she sneaked out through the window and it sure wouldn't be the last. She made her way around the house, being careful when it came to the kitchen by ducking underneath the kitchen windows. When she finally came around to the front, Michelle noticed the car parked in front of her house, but not directly in front. More off to the side. She dashed to it and wasted no time jumping inside and buckling her seatbelt.
"Ha. I knew you were crying," Mickey cheered from the driver's side cheerfully, earning a look of confusion and disbelief. He just cracked a goofy smile at her. "What? I knew I was right about what I heard."
"Why are you even here in the first place?" Michelle murmured, leaning back into her seat as the car pulled away from her house and sped down the road.
"I had to drop Ronnie to some house," he answered, shrugging. "I honestly have no idea. I got bored and decided to harass you. Perfect timing is what you call this."
"No... No, it's not. The correct term is wrong timing." She paused and stared at him for a moment before asking, “Why are you really here?”
His amber eyes shone with surprise at her question. He caught a quick glance at her and his lips turned up into an amused smile. “How did you know I was lying– Well, partially lying?” he inquired.
“Because you’d harass me for a reason. Not, because you’re bored.”
He glanced at her curiously. “And I can’t get bored?”
Michelle shrugged and looked out the window. “I don’t know. I don’t believe you have the word bored in your dictionary. You just seem like the person that would have fun, even when alone,” she admitted, combing her fingers through her hair. She just shrugged again and sent Mickey a smile. “That’s just I think.”
He gave her a small nod, resisting the urge to make a dirty comment.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why did you pick me up?”
Mickey released a chuckle and answered, “My mom’s home. So, I was thinking of introducing you to her after I dropped Ronnie off.” One hand dropped from the steering wheel and scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I guess, it was kinda a bad idea since you were just emotionally distressed. Sorry.”
Her eyes were wide with shock. Mickey just apologized to her. Not only that, but he wanted her to meet his mom at the moment. “I-I don’t know,” she stammered, forcing herself to not say something like, “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.” Because, at the moment, she looked like an utter mess. Red, puffed out cheeks, bags underneath her eyes,– This was not how she wanted to look like when meeting Mrs. Varsity.
“I was thinking of going to my house quick for about ten minutes then I’ll take you out for some coffee,” Mickey told her. “Then, you could tell me what I should murder.”
Her lips automatically turned up into a small smile at the joking tone in his voice. “Fine,” she replied after a few minutes of looking out the window. She looked over at Mickey. “I’d love that.”
*
“I look like utter poopy!” Michelle whimpered with her wrist tightly gripped by Mickey’s hand as he dragged her towards a mansion in a neighborhood filled with more mansions. “I was just crying and–”
“Buttercup, you look beautiful. You don’t even wear enough makeup for it to be ruined,” Mickey interjected, ignoring her struggle. It was obvious that she wasn’t backing out for just the makeup.
Meeting the parents for the first time was something Michelle hated. Even if it was just meeting her friend’s parents for the first time, she always hated it. Now, meeting Mickey’s rich mother in a rich mansion as his girlfriend? She was very anxious at the moment. “Please, Mickey,” she whimpered, now struggling to pull out of his hold. “Let me go!”
He rolled his eyes at her, continuing to drag her with ease. “No,” he responded. “You already agreed to meet my mom, missy. You had time to go back, but since we drove all the way here already, you’re meeting my mother. She’s not that bad!”
“Mickey, stop it!” she squealed when he yanked her into his body and lifted her over his shoulder. “Mickey!” Giggles escaped her lips with every step he took towards his house. “Mickey!”
When driving to Mickey’s house, Michelle realized that it was taking a good twenty minutes to get there, which worried her. Their town may be a tad smaller than most towns and everyone knew each other, but like most towns, there was a wealthy side and there was a poor side then there was a middle. Michelle just so happened to live in the middle of the town, knowing the most people, but she constantly forgot that Mickey lived on the wealthy side, which is another reason why he’s feared.
So, she did panic when she remembered which side Mickey lived on. She did panic when they got pulled over just to ensure that one of them were a resident on that side of the town. She did panic when they pulled up to a breathtaking, split level mansion painted in white and black colors.
“Mickey!” Michelle screamed for the hundredth time when he spun around. She giggled, smacking his back and his bum at times.
“I love it when you smack my ass like that,” Mickey moaned jokingly, only making her laugh harder. He even joined in her laughter as he spun around again.
“Uh, Mickey?”
The laughter was immediately killed at the female’s voice. Michelle was placed down beside Mickey, his arm firmly around her waist, while she quickly fixed her hair.
Right in front of her stood a woman practically identical to Mickey, but in female form. She had long and dark, honey brown hair cut short in a bob hairstyle, a tad longer than Mickey’s shaggy hair length. She stood tall like her son at a six foot height, give or take an inch, with a body filled with beautiful curves. Her eyes even had the same amber eyes, shining with golds and yellows, even hints of brown. But what got Michelle rigid was her attire. She was wearing a sleek, gray business suit, but instead of gray slacks, she had a gray, pencil skirt that reached her knees.
“Uh, hey, Mom,” Mickey greeted, leaning in to kiss his mother’s cheek. When he pulled away from his mother, he pushed Michelle a bit forwards, his arm still around her. “This is my girlfriend, Michelle. You know the one Pam told you about?”
Instead of earning a disgusted look when Mickey’s mother scanned Michelle’s body, she was surprised to see a look of approval on her face instead. “Uh, hi,” she squeaked nervously, sticking out her hand. “I’m Michelle Richmond.”
Mickey’s mother didn’t hesitate to accept her hand and gave a stern shake. “How ironic. My name is also Michelle,” she stated with a warm, at ease smile. “But you can call me Ella.”
Michelle’s eyes widened in surprise and returned the smile. “Okay, Ella.”
“It’s so great to finally meet you,” Ella stated, pulling her hand away as did she. “Pam told me so many amazing things about you. Your grades are divine– You’re even looking to try applying to Harvard and Yale. Impressive.”
Her cheeks turned crimson at the compliments. “Thank you,” she murmured shyly.
“Michelle is very modest when it comes to things like her grades,” Mickey claimed, much to her surprise. “She’s not the type to brag.”
Ella surprisingly nodded in approval. “It’s so nice to see my son bringing home decent, well-mannered girls with modest personalities. It’s nice and refreshing,” she declared, sighing dreamily, as a smile appeared on her face. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat with you more, Michelle, but I gotta head off to work.” She caught Michelle’s hand and gave a friendly squeeze. “You have to come over one day for tea. I would just love to hear more about your relationship with my son.” She then dropped her hand and turned to Mickey. “And you, sir, better cheer your girlfriend up from whatever she was crying about.”
That immediately shocked Michelle and she felt her mouth drop. Was it that obvious that she was crying?
Though it didn’t shock Mickey as much. He snorted, hugging his fake girlfriend against his side. “Ma, you raised me better than that,” he retorted and planted a kiss on the top of Michelle’s head. “Of course, I’ll cheer her up. I’ll just take her to my room–”
A disapproving look washed over Ella.
“We’re not going to have sex,” he snapped, adding more color to Michelle’s face. “This girl... I’m, uh, serious about her.”
The disapproving look disappeared and she brightly smiled. “Okay! Well, I’m off,” she sang, walking past them. Then she called over her shoulder, “Hope you get better, Minnie.”
“That woman hangs out with Ronnie too much,” Mickey commented while Michelle felt like she was going to throw up. He looked down at her, eyes widening at the sight of her pale, sickly face. “Shit. Let me get you to my room.” With that, he scooped her over his shoulder and dashed inside the mansion.
She didn’t even have the opportunity to scan the house, especially from her angle. The only thing she could scan was Mickey’s very nice ass. But she ignored it with the sickly feeling growing within her. “I think I’m gonna hurl,” Michelle stated from her spot. Another door open and then one more door open before she was placed on her feet. She realized that they were now in a bathroom.
It was a large bathroom, fitting a shower, a bathtub that looked like a hot tub, a large counter with three sinks and a mirror large enough for a bunch of people, and two closets. There were even two toilets, each on opposite ends of the room with walls blocking them both. Michelle just so happened to be placed in front of a weird, colorful toilet.
“This is the toilet I use whenever I need to upchuck,” Mickey told her, rubbing her back. “If you need to–” He wasn’t able to finish his words when Michelle dropped to her knees, threw open the toilet covering, and barfed. Michelle expected Mickey to leave, give her privacy, or something. Surprising her, she felt her hair being held back from her face and a hand rubbing her back soothingly.
After a few minutes, she stopped throwing up. She wiped her lips with a hand towel and slumped against the wall beside the toilet in case she needed to throw up again while Mickey closed the seat and flushed the toilet then sat across from her, leaning his side against the wall blocking the toilet’s view.
“Thanks,” she murmured, her face heating up yet again from embarrassment. “I know it wasn’t the most attractive thing to see... or hear, for that matter.”
He offered her a small smile while shaking his head. “It’s fine.” He opened a drawer right beside his head and pulled out something, tossing it to her.
It landed on her lap and Michelle realized that it was Trident gum. “Thanks,” she repeated, opening the package and popping three pieces of gum.
“So, wanna talk?”
She immediately scoffed, her eyes flickering to him, while he stared at her in confusion. “Why do you care?” she inquired, tilting her head back to rest it against the wall. “Yeah. Why do you care? Like you said on the first day of school, I’m your fake girlfriend. I don’t need to know anything about you. I’m taking that as vice versa as well.”
Mickey sighed and ran his hand over his hair, pushing it down over his eyes. “Yeah, I know what I said,” he said with a frown, dropping his hand to the floor. “But you’re sad and hurt... and I don’t know. I just wanna act like a friend and be here for you to talk to. I don’t know.”
Her eyebrow arched at his words and she echoed, “Act like a friend?”
He threw his head back, groaning. “No, no. That’s not what I meant to say.” He looked back at her and offered her a smile; a real, genuine one that Michelle hadn’t seen before. “I mean, I want to be a friend to you. We hang out enough. So, uh, can we...”
Michelle’s lips turned up into her own, genuine smile. Usually, Mickey would just hang out with his druggy friends and do illegal stuff. They’re not actual friends to him, even Michelle knew that. Just followers, because what bad ass doesn’t have a posse. From the looks of it, Mickey only has one true friend and that’s Ronnie. This is probably the first time he ever asked someone, especially a girl, to be his friend.
She didn’t see why not. They hung out enough already with one another and Mickey wasn’t that bad, getting past his flirtatious, touchy side. Not only that, but she noticed that Mickey has been hanging out less with his friends that were terrible influences. So, this could also benefit him and his health.
“Yes,” Michelle suddenly said, her smile brightening. “I’d love to be your friend, Mickey.”
“Heh, thanks, Minnie.” Mickey paused for a minute, a cocky smirk replacing his genuine smile. “Now, let me hear you curse.”