Chapter IX ─ Turmoil
[ B R Y A N C L A Y ]
Shit.
Fuck.
What the fuck?
What the fuck was Michael Griffin doing right outside my front door?
More importantly, why did I panic this hard and shut the door right in his face?
I rested my forehead against the wooden door, silently praying to whoever was listening in that godforsaken moment that Michael would simply vanish and this wouldn't be spoken of ever again.
"Am I that hideous or something?" I heard Michael silently mumble at the other side of the door and the corner of my lips involuntarily propped up.
I scrutinized Michael for saying such foul words in my head, Griff was probably one of the most attractive people I have ever met. The worst part, he was completely oblivious to his drop-dead gorgeous, effortless appearance. His messy ginger hair and piercing green eyes made one hell of a combo. The freckles littered on his face gave him an adorable vibe, however, his muscular body gave off an entirely different one, a silent groan escaped my lips.
I shook my head, this was not the time to daydream about my former best friend. He was quite literally outside, for god's sake.
I suddenly grew very self-conscious. I still had purple bags under my eyes, a few days worth of scruff rested on my jawline and I had yet to shower. I probably looked like a pile of shit and that didn't help with my anxiety whatsoever.
"So... are you going to let me in, or what?" I heard Michael drawl from the other side of the hardwood door.
I thought about leaving him hanging there and just ignoring his existence, but I had a hard enough time doing that without him physically being here to wreak havoc in my head. I braced myself, telling myself that I would be alright, that he just dropped by for something and he'd soon be on his way.
I stood up straight, morphed the scowl on my face into the usual emotionless, disinterested look I had mastered over endless years of practice. I stretched my hand out towards the doorknob and twisted it, my muscles going rigid as soon as the northern California sun peered through the door.
I squinted, it had been particularly sunny that afternoon and the fact that the front door of my house faced the south, did not help. I tried to avert my gaze from Michael, who looked like he had been trying to compress his emotions as well, an air-tight container with a yellow lid resting in his hands. It looked like lasagna.
My stomach ruined the silence by releasing a growl. I felt embarrassment rush to my cheeks and from the corner of my eye, I saw Michael throw a small smirk my way. "I guess, I made the right decision by bringing this." He looked at the container in his hands and I remained silent, I didn't trust my voice at this moment. "Mind if I come in?" Griff spoke with ease.
I cleared my throat. "U-uh, yeah." I stuttered and mentally beat myself up as I stepped away from the doorway, letting Michael breach the privacy of my empty house. I closed the door behind him, getting slightly irritated because of the sun.
When I turned back to face Michael, I saw him standing there in silence, surveying the situation of the modern home my parents had once bought. He hadn't been here in four years, if not more, I remembered a promise I made to myself all those years back.
I promised myself that I would never let Michael back into my life, much less my house. As you could see, the latter went right out of the window a few minutes ago.
I had been so deep inside my head, lost in a battle with my anxiety and feelings to seriously ponder as to why Michael Griffin suddenly showed up to my house unannounced.
I shot him a studying look, trying hard not to ogle at him, but eventually failing.
Griff seemed to have noticed my gaze and shifted his attention to me, a faint smile playing on his face. I felt my insides stir. "I know what you're thinking." He chuckled. "I'm here because Kyle asked me to check up on you, he's worried about you."
"But he called me a few hours ago, I said I was fine," I mumbled. Although Kyle always made it known that he cared about me and the entire team as a whole, he never went as far as sending somebody to check up on me, especially not after calling me.
"You know, I don't blame him for attempting to send someone, you don't sound fine." He blurted. Michael was kind of known for having no filter sometimes.
He was right, though. I was an absolute mess and my appearance reflected it.
I still refused to speak, I didn't want to break character in front of Michael as much as I had wanted to, my trust issues wouldn't allow that just yet.
"Kyle was going to check up on you himself but he had to deal with something at the school after practice so he asked me. I-uh, I brought you some lasagna?" He trailed off in a question and I almost let out a small smile. I knew silence affected Michael, he'd get squirmish and start mumbling, it's been this way since we were kids.
"Uh, thanks," I grumbled.
An awkward silence followed my strained expression of gratitude. Shouldn't Michael be on his way now that he checked up on me? I don't think I could take much more of his presence before I snapped.
I cleared my throat, breaking the silence, but I couldn't bring myself to ask him as to why he was staying.
Back to square one. We were just standing there in the middle of the open-space common area, awkwardly refusing to meet each other's eyes.
This time, Griff broke the silence and his attempt was more promising than mine. "So, how are you holding up?" His voice was unusually rough, yet pleasant to my ears. "Feeling any better after Friday?"
I pondered over his questions for a second and answered. "I'm fine. Yeah, I'm a bit better after Friday, I just need more rest. Thank you for asking." I was tense, like unnaturally, uncontrollably tense and Michael noticed it, I was sure he did.
Suddenly, he looked down at his hands and realization flashed in his striking green eyes. His gaze shifted to meet mine and I was caught off guard, I hated how these little, meaningless gestures managed to get me riled up inside.
I was an unstable mess, staring at the person who contributed to me being that way. I knew I could just blame Michael for my issues and continue attempting to hate him, but I was guilty as well.
If only I had gotten over myself and accepted myself, I could've had Michael's friendship through all the hardship, as if nothing had happened. I cursed at myself for not being emotionally sound, but I also had to look at the other side of the situation. Jen. My evil bitch of a sister, that was set out to ruin my life, because being the parents' favourite from when we were young wasn't satisfying enough, was always ready to pull the trigger and shed light on my undying feelings for Griff. I didn't want Michael knowing about my feelings, which is why I continued and will continue to push him away as best as I can.
Michael brought me out of my train of thought by pushing the container with the delicious looking lasagna in my hands. I stared at it, dumbfounded for a moment before regaining my composure. "Oh, right, uh. Do you want anything to drink?" Why the fuck did I offer hospitality to him? I'm supposed to hate him.
"Water's fine." Griff smiled at me politely and I nearly shivered, fucking shivered, I was such a fucking pussy.
I removed myself from the awkward situation, brushing past Michael and walking towards the kitchen, hoping to regroup and put up a stronger emotional barrier in front of me. I needed space, I needed distance and I needed Michael to get out of here before I either hurt him or ravaged him on the couch.
I was overwhelmed when I poured water into a tall glass, my breathing was getting shallow. I felt unreasonable anger boiling in my gut and I couldn't control it, my pills weren't doing their god damn job.
I walked back to Michael with his water and handed it to him, I couldn't believe I was getting pissed over a cup of water, IED was really unpredictable sometimes. The worst part was that I couldn't control my random outbursts of anger, despite being aware of the stupidity of the situations. Even Fluoxetine couldn't stop me sometimes.
Griff immediately shot me a wary look. "Bry, are you okay?" His fingertips brushed against mine as he took the cup out of my grasp.
That happened to be my last trigger before the fury overwhelmed me. Michael shouldn't have come here.