As usual, Michelle strided down the halls towards her locker in the morning. But this time, the atmosphere around her was different, but not in a way that could be pinpointed– just different. And for two reasons that is.
Firstly, for a good week or so, Michelle had been avoiding Mickey at all cost after school or during lunch. But he has been like him old self, just going out for lunch or hanging out with friends after school. It was a large relief to her, because she needed time to think of that day. That day when Ronnie said a certain words about for feelings for a certain someone and that kiss with that exact certain someone.
What came over me? she hissed to herself, stopping in front of her locker. She rolled her shoulders before she unlocked the locker and started swapping books.
And, secondly, today was the day she dreaded most. The day most people happen to be in love with, but not her– never did and never gonna. Michelle’s birthday. Ever since elementary school, everyone knew better than to wish her a happy birthday, knowing her usual, upset response.
She noticed all of the discreet glances sent in her direction, the silent want filling their eyes. Most of these people that looked at her were mainly the types that enjoyed making a big deal out of birthdays just for the hell of it. Others were some of her friends. None of these people were able to wish her happy birthday before in their lives– not even for the most important birthday of a girl’s life the “Sweet Sixteen”–, which built up this want.
Out of nowhere, something gently caressed Michelle’s lower back, just above the butt.
Her head snapped to the side and she was ready to yell at whoever it was, only to squeeze her mouth shut and widen her eyes. Standing there in all perfection was Mickey with a pinkish-white rose between his lips as he leaned against the locker. He was dressed up very nicely in a black, button up shirt and a nice pair of dark-washed jeans, with a new haircut.
Instead of his hair being long, hanging over the back of his neck, it was shorter around the back. The front of his hair was cut shorter so that it didn’t cover most of his forehead, only a portion of it. His haircut actually looked really good with the soft curls, which from a few pictures Elle has shown her before, that were actually naturally in his hair. (It was greatly amusing to find out that Mickey straightened his own hair, though it wasn’t that surprising.)
At least I can still run my fingers through his–
Purposely interrupting her own thoughts, she broke their silence by asking teasingly, “Well, don’t you look swell?”
He pulled the rose from his lips and grinned at her, showing the light marks in his lips made from the few, not as sharp, thorns. “It’s a big day,” he responded. His smile faltered. “And I’m currently in a bet with Ronnie and my mom about whether I could manage to not act like a bad ass for the day, just to relieve my mom that I’ll be ready for the banquet.”
Confusion washed over Michelle at all the news she was told at once. “Uh, a few questions. What big, er, day? What do you get from this, uh, bet? And,” she paused for a moment to remember her last question, “what banquet?”
“The one I’m supposed to be bringing you, because that was a part of the deal,” he answered quietly then spoke louder, “And I forgot all your other questions. Repeat, por favor.”
“What do you get from the bet?” she repeated, mentally slapping herself for forgetting about the banquet. Though Mickey never did tell her around when the banquet was supposed to be, so of course, she didn’t worry about it that much.
“I don’t have to pay for your,” he pointed a finger at her, “dress.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Pay for my dress? Woah, woah, woah. That wasn’t a part of the deal.”
He playfully covered her lips with a finger, mockingly shushing her. “Buttercup, you require a dress worth millions for this banquet. My mother and her snobbish friends would be able to tell your wealth from your outfit. My mom already likes you, but her friends… well, they’re snobs.” Mickey then leaned into her and her breath got caught in her throat. “Plus, how could I just allow my girlfriend pay for a dress on her birthday?”
Michelle stumbled back, creating space between them. “Wh-What?” she stammered. “H-How did you–”
“This is for you,” Mickey interrupted, his voice soft and silky. His arm raised awkwardly to hold out the flower to her face from their distance. “Uh, I thought that girls, um, liked roses and stuff, especially for, uh, special occasions like, uh, this.”
She, and probably everyone else in the halls, gawked at him.
He looked very uncomfortable as he held out the rose, his eyes flickering to around them a few times. His cheeks even grew with a pink brighter than the rose’s color. And don’t forget about his stuttering. At the moment, with his new attire and stansa in general, Mickey could’ve been fooled for a nice boy instead of a bad one.
“Thank you,” she whispered, ducking her head a bit and taking the rose from his hand. “But I have to let you know that I don’t celebrate my birthday.” She tilted her head up, biting her lower lip.
Thus, the old Mickey returned. He arched an eyebrow and gave her a bizzard look. “What? You don’t celebrate your birthday?” he inquired, slumping against the locker beside her. “I fucking love my birthday.”
“Well, I hate mine,” she stated coldly and turned to her locker, tossing the rose inside only to be taken back out by Mickey.
“And why is that?” he whispered, his softer side returning again. She felt his hand caressing her cheek a few times before he slowly and gently looped her hair behind her ear and tucked the rose behind her ear.
Michelle looked back at him with narrowed eyes, ignoring the warm, fuzzy feeling engulfing her stomach whenever he touched her so gently and caringly. Logan never bothered doing that to her. He couldn’t care less that she didn’t celebrate her birthday; it saved him the money. “It’s nothing, Mickey.”
“C’mon. It has to be something,” he insisted, softly poking her cheek and getting his hand slapped away. “Aren’t we friends?”
Friends that heavily make out and one of them possibly has feelings for the other one… yes. Yes, we’re friends. Bitter sarcasm dripped through her thoughts and she pursed her lips, staring at him for a moment. On a less sarcastic note, though, Mickey does look worried for me. And we are pretty close friends, not always so sexual. “Yeah,” she breathed with a curt nod. “We are friends.”
Suddenly, Mickey grimaced and looked away from her, seeming upset. “Uh, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Don’t answer the question if it’s too personal for you.” He raised his eyes to meet hers, a faint tint appearing on his cheeks. “I just– uh, nevermind. Forget I asked anything.”
“I’ll tell you. It just, uh, a little crowded to say it out loud,” Michelle piped, reaching out and catching his hand. She tugged on his hand as indication for him to get closer. “But I just– I just never had a decent birthday,” she said quietly, almost in a whisper.
Mickey had to crane his head closer to her to catch the last part of her sentence. “I wanna ask why is that,” he admitted, sheepishly smiling, “but I don’t want to buzz kill the day.”
“It has already been buzz killed,” Michelle retorted, closing her locker. She began to walk towards her science class with a certain boy by her side. “For fourteen years.”
“So, you don’t want to celebrate your birthday at all?”
No hesitation in her answer. “Yeah, I don’t.”
“So, you don’t like the rose?”
Eyes widening, Michelle stopped walking. She was greatly thankful that no one was behind her, seeing as the bell was about to ring in a few seconds. She faced Mickey, who just stood there, staring at her in confusion. “Of course, I like the rose,” she said softly, all her hatred towards her birthday going into the back of her mind. “I love it, even.”
Mickey scooped her hand into his and slowly lifted it to his lips, pressing a long kiss on the top of it. “That’s good,” he uttered in a whisper, giving her one of his genuine smiles. “It’s actually a relief. I thought you wouldn’t like it, because of your birthday hate.”
Realization dawned on her and she yanked her hand out of his grip while a loud, obnoxious bell erupted through the halls. After it stopped, she asked accusingly, “Did you already know that I hate birthdays?”
“Duh,” he retorted, playfully smacking the back of her head. Thankfully, the wounds in the back of her head mainly recovered. “After being in school together for so long, you really think that I couldn’t tell your coldness towards your special holiday?”
Despite the shock of Mickey knowing about her birthday and hatred towards it for years, she asked, wanting to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, “So, you’re that kind of guy, huh? That considers birthdays as special holidays.”
“Yep.”
“Get to class, kids!”
Jumping, Michelle’s eyes widened at the principal briskly walking past them, not sparing a mere glance. “Y-Yes, m-ma’am,” she stuttered, resisting the feel of need to salute. She snatched Mickey’s hand and hurried down the halls, already knowing that Mickey’s class wasn’t towards the science wing like hers was. “Ri-Right away.” She dropped Mickey’s hand the moment she realized she was still holding it after they rounded a corner. “Uh,” she looked up at the town’s bad boy, “I’ll see you, uh, later then.”
But Mickey, of course, wasn’t satisfied with just a mere goodbye. He yanked her into his chest and swiftly scooped down for a kiss. Like the kiss they shared a week or two ago, it was meant to be a quick peck, but turned into a passionate kiss, which fortunately, didn’t have undressing. Michelle was the first to snap back into reality, pull away from Mickey completely, and practically run off, her cheeks flaming hot. Little did she know, Mickey was doing a little, happy dance in the spot she left him.
*
“Mickey, no. I don’t want to. I absolutely, one hundred percent refuse.”
Mickey just chuckled, sending Michelle one of those award winning smiles, while his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I told you that I was going to be buying you a dress for the banquet.”
“Your mother’s buying me a dress,” Michelle corrected with a frown.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Act like a girl and be glad you don’t have to pay for any of these dresses,” he retorted, pulling her along the boutique filled with rich, designer clothes, ranging from shirts to dresses to shoes. Mickey suddenly grinned down at her. “And if you’re extra careful with the dress we buy today, we could always return it.”
She gaped at him. “You just totally jinxed me!”
He chuckled and, with ease, pulled her into his chest. “I most likely did, but I couldn’t care less,” Mickey quipped. “It’s a birthday present from me,” he kissed the top of her head, “to you.”
For a moment, Michelle enjoyed the warmth of her body against Mickey’s, softly nuzzing her head against his arm. The last thing Mickey likes is me, so stop allowing yourself to get used to this! she mentally scolded herself and immediately pulled herself from his arms, her face painted in red.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up at him and bobbed her head, purposely staring at his nose rather than his eyes. “Of course, I am. Why you ask?”
Mickey sighed and turned his head away, muttering a ‘nothing’ to her. He continued guiding Michelle through the boutique until they reached the back and he stopped, stopping her as well.
Michelle’s jaw slacked at the one-of-a-kind dresses hung in the back of the store. She could even feel drool slowly making it’s way from her lips to her chin. All these dresses were so beautiful– but so expensive. She snapped out of her gawking when a hand wiped the drool from her chin. She looked over at Mickey to find him smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You like these?” he inquired.
“I love them!” Michelle gushed, ignoring the indifference within his eyes. “But they’re too expensive.” She pursed her lips when he slapped the back of her head.
“Did I not say that I’m buying?” Mickey retorted, shaking his eyes while rolling his eyes. “Stop worrying about the prices.”
She pouted instantly. “But–”
“Oh! I thought you said you weren’t going to take Michelle here!”
Michelle spun around in surprise at the sound of Ella’s voice. “Oh, Ella!” she said confusedly. “I didn’t know you were going to be here...”
Ella looked as crisp and neat as ever in her striped, black and white business suit. Her honey brown hair grew from her bob haircut, almost reaching her shoulders. She wore a smile, which also reached her eyes. “I just decided to pop my head in to check out how the boutique was doing,” she told Michelle nonchalantly.
“Bullshit,” snorted Mickey. “You had the owner on surveillance for you if I were to come here with Michelle or not.”
“The owner?” Michelle murmured, still confused with why Ella was here.
“My mom owns this boutique,” he explained, snaking an arm around Michelle’s waist and pulling her to his side yet again. It was just to show Ella that they were a couple. “Actually, she owns a chain of boutiques ranging from different designers. This one just so happens to have my mom’s clothing lines.”
His explanation almost made those blue orbs pop right out of their sockets. From the three months of getting to know Mickey Varsity and his family (or just his mom), Michelle never once knew that Ella was a fashion designer. “Really?” the word escaped her lips as she gawked at Mickey’s mother.
Ella chuckled, wearing a large grin. “I can’t say that I’m not surprised you didn’t know about me from my clothing lines, which aren’t all made for expensive boutiques like this one,” she added with a glare when Mickey opened his mouth to say something, possibly being a comment. She looked back at Michelle, now smiling. “Have you ever heard of The Varsity Fash before?”
Michelle’s jaw slacked yet again, her eyes as large as the moon. “I can’t believe– That’s your line?” she inquired in disbelief.
The Varsity Fash was one of the most famous clothing lines in the nation, being known for selling expensive clothes in limited boutiques and less expensive, but still as fashionable clothes in retail. Michelle definitely had some TVF clothes in her closet, mainly from Tami as second hand. She also knew that Megan was a crazed TVF fan, shopping in some retail shop for TVF outfits then gushing about it all-day on her phone to one of Megan’s friends, who were also crazed.
“It’s good to see that she’s not with you, because of me,” Ella commented, wearing an amused smirk.
“I-I’m sorry,” Michelle stuttered, suddenly feeling shy in front of a fashion celebrity. “I’m not really a fashionista, but my sister, Megan, and my friend, Tami, are huge fans of your clothing lines.”
Mickey scoffed and tightened his grip around her, replying, “Don’t apologize. My mom’s egotistic as she is. She doesn’t need everyone to know who she is.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the top of Michelle’s head, causing her to squirm in his arms and attempt pulling from his hold.
“So, Michelle,” Ella said, interrupting Michelle’s squirming. “Do you like any of these dresses? Since I lost the bet, you may pick any of them. Well, I would’ve gave one of them to you anyways since you’re dating my son, but probably as a loaning type of thing. You could choose and keep whichever you like.”
“Uh, they’re all breathtaking,” Michelle answered, quieter than she usually would talk. Thankfully, she didn’t fully stutter like before. She looked around at each of the dresses, her face taking its time to heat up. “I’m not sure which one I’d choose. They all seem like they belong on a model, or someone that’s not me.”
“Oh, please,” scoffed the Varsity family in unison. Mickey then continued, “You’re beautiful, Buttercup. To be honest, I’m worried that these dresses wouldn’t do you justice.”
Fastening the heat process to her cheeks, Michelle looked away and muttered, “Be quiet, Mickey.”
“Aw!” cooed Ella and Michelle didn’t look over at her, not wanting to expose her red cheeks. “My, oh, my! She’s so adorable! Do you see her blushing, Mickey? She’s probably the cutest and most modest girlfriend you’ve ever had.”
“I only had one girlfriend before and that was in middle school,” Mickey retorted, surprising Michelle.
He only had one girlfriend? I would’ve expected him to have more, she thought to herself until she heard what his mother retort with.
“Oh, my bad. You’ve had flings before,” snapped Ella. “Michelle is the cutest and most modest girl you’ve ever acquainted yourself with.” She suddenly got quiet. “Wait, Michelle, are you a virgin?”
A shot to the head… A shot to the head was what Michelle wanted at the moment. Her face burned so badly that she cringed from the pain and what she was just asked. But there was nothing she could do. She was against Mickey’s side, pinned in place, with those amber eyes glued to her. She knew she had to answer and that was exactly what she did, but in a quietest of whisper, “Yes.”
Ella must’ve heard when she exclaimed, “Even better! It’s the biggest relief to see someone with my son for him and not his dick!”
“Ma!” Mickey snapped, tightening his grip around her again. “Can’t you learn to be a regular mother and be partially modest and thoughtful of what leaves your mouth?”
“Oh, Mickey. I will once you stop playing bad boy of the town.”
Michelle lifted her head, her face still burning. But, strangely, their bickering calmed her down in her embarrassment levels. She could just see how embarrassed Mickey was from the corner of her eyes. His face and neck were painted crimson and, despite the anger, his eyes were filled with shyness and shock. “Should we, um, just pick the dress then?” she asked.
The motherly pair of amber eyes snapped to her and a wide grin spread across Ella’s face. “Why, of course! You two just sit down over there,” she pointed at the fine, black leather couch pushed up against the wall beside the door to the dressing room, “while I pick out Michelle’s dress.”
Before Michelle could object, Mickey didn’t hesitate and walked over to the couch. He plopped on the couch, pulling her along with him, leaving his mother to find the dress. “I sometimes just want to slam my head into a brick wall when I’m by my mother with someone,” he muttered, peeling his arm off of her. “I’m sorry for her… bluntness.”
“It’s fine,” Michelle responded, meaning every word. “It’s not like my, um, v-card is that much of a secret in the first place.” Her breath got caught in her throat when he looked over at her, his amber eyes glistening.
“That’s a relief.” He softly smiled. “Now, let’s change the answer to my mom’s question,” he joked, leaning into her and making groaning noises before pulling away.
For some reason, she giggled. Her hand playfully smacked Mickey’s shoulder as she smiled up at him. “Shut up, Mickey,” she hissed, tilting her head. “Or else I’ll have to just shut you up myself.”
He arched an eyebrow, asking, “Oh? And how?”
Her smile shifted into a grin as she leaned into him, teasingly answering, “With my lips.”
Mickey draped an arm around her body and pulled her into his side for the third time. “Ah, you’ve already mastered lesson eighteen,” he claimed, toying with the ends of her hair.
“Mastered what?” Michelle inquired, knitting her eyebrows together.
“You’ve mastered the arts of being a tease and a flirt,” Mickey chortled in response, grinning down at her.
Her eyes widened and began to sputter, “Wh-What? I-I am– I d-did?”
He leaned into her until his lips were against her ear and his hot breath began to tickle her delicate ear, causing her to squirm a bit. “Don’t worry though,” Mickey said in a low voice, adding a sexy huskiness that made her shiver a bit. “I’m a tease and a flirt as well.” He gently– teasingly– bit down on her earlobe, tugging on it every now and then. But, just as quick as he started this, he ended it by pulling away completely from Michelle and standing up to check on his mother.
Michelle’s eyes wandered after him, vaguely watching his butt move in those dark-washed jeans. A large breath, she didn’t realize she was holding in, heaved out of her as she slouched a bit. A tease and a flirt… yes, in deed.