Saving the Reject | Michael Clifford | Editing

t h i r t e e n ;

Michael

"It would never work.  We're too different."

I had heard the entire conversation, starting from, "I'm not seeing Michael like that!"  I had wanted to turn up my music - ironically, Panic!'s I write Sins Not Tragedies - and block it out, but I couldn't bring myself to it.  Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?  Or, in this case, window?

I don't even know why the hell her words bothered me so much.  Sure, I was tolerating her more, but I wasn't seriously thinking about her like that, was I?  She's not my type.  Harper's my type; the type you can fuck every once and a while but have no feelings towards.  That's sure as hell not Charli.

"Mike!" Calum yelled, breaking my thoughts, and making me jump slightly.  "You missed your line," he said, annoyed.  "Again."

I shook myself out of my Charli-induced trance, looking up to see that they were all staring at me, slightly out of breath after the last song.

"You okay, Michael?" Luke asked skeptically.  "You've been out of it since you got home."

"I'm fine," I told him honestly.  "Just kind of distracted."  By that demon/angel blue-eyed ginger.

Luke's face paled as he stepped towards me a little bit.  "Is it - " he stuttered.  "Is it Tahlia?"

My guitar pick fell from my fingertips as my eyes widened slightly.  "What the hell, Luke!" I snapped at him.  "Why the fuck would you bring that up?"

"Mike, calm down," Ashton said, playing mediator from behind his drum set.

"It's fine, Ash."  Luke turned back to me.  "I just thought that -  Well, it's been a year since - you know - "

Shit, I guess it has been.  "I'm fine," I repeated, looking down at my guitar, hoping they'd all just drop it.

The difference was, a minute ago, my words were truthful.  I'm not so sure about that anymore.

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

The doorbell rang right on time, as it always does, and I opened the door to reveal an innocently smiling Charli, as if she hadn't said a thing about me afterschool.  Why am I getting so worked up about this?  It's not like she said she was playing me.  She just told her friend the truth I haven't admitted.  We're hardly friends.  Ouch.

"So what subject do you want to move onto today?  English?  History?" Charli asked, strolling right into my room, as we do each day.

"Music," I told her, causing her to look up at me with a confused expression.  "You were successful in your half of the deal, I want to be successful with mine, too."

"I don't know. . ." she muttered, looking down in an adorably insecure way.  God damn it, Michael, stop.

"Come on Charli, I thought you said you would help me out?  It's just me.  You're safe here."

She looked up at me with those hollow, yet beautiful blue eyes, causing a blissful yet terrifying feeling in the pit of my stomach, something I've only every felt once before.  But that's not possible.  Those emotions were destroyed, never meant to be felt again.  They went with Tahlia.

You just had to put her back in my mind, didn't you, Hemmings?

"I - I -" she spoke quietly, looking back down again.  "Okay."

She said is so quietly, I could barely hear her.  So, I repeated it.  "Okay?"

"Okay."  She looked up with a laugh.  "Okay, Augustus Waters." 

"Okay, Hazel Grace."  This made her laugh even more.  God, her laugh is beautiful.

After a minute of the two of us laughing, the mood returned to it's darkened state at Charli's words: "I don't know if I can do this."

"Hey," I responded, lifting her chin delicately to look into those mysterious eyes of hers.  Why have I just noticed how fucking beautiful this girl is?  "I know you can do this, Charli."

That one song from The Little Mermaid popped into my head.  Sha-la-la-la-la-la don't be scared, you got the mood prepared.  Go on and kiss the girl. . .

But I couldn't.  Not right now, not ever.  Like Charli said earlier, it wouldn't work; it couldn't work.  I can't keep feeling like this around her.  She's just my tutor, and I was just helping her out.  Nothing more.

Charli closed her eyes and nodded, slowly, as if this was physically painful for her.  What had put her in this pain?  What happened to make her afraid of singing?  "Sing," I softly encouraged.

"Wise man say: only fools rush in. . ." she sang softly.  "But I can't help falling in love with you."

Wow.  Her voice was as unique and beautiful are her.  She sang with her eyes closed, as if there was no one in the world to hear her amazing voice.  I almost felt like I was intruding, but I couldn't move; I was under her spell as the goose bumps coated my skin.

"Shall I stay?"

Please stay.

"Would it be a sin. . ."

I don't care.  I don't care if the two of us would be the greatest sin there is.  I don't care.

"If I can't help falling in love with you. . ."