Stupid Love || Michael Afton x Reader

nine - apologies

March 3rd 1983.

Okay.

I don't think I've ever been so confused in my entire life.

The way Michael is acting is just making me want to strangle him even more than I did before.

How he was acting on that study night, it just confuses me. All the stuff he said, all the stuff I said. It got pretty heated.

I was expecting him to see me in a darker view, to possibly annoy me even more at school, to go at Terry even more, to act more like a dumbass.

But he didn't.

He just acted like nothing had happened, he went on with his day, pretending as if the argument was an empty hole in his life.

At least nothing had gotten worse I guess.

Which was very unexpected.

Considering that I was technically the one that sparked up the argument on Monday, so that was actually on a different level of unexpected.

And on Tuesday too!

After that stupid fight, I didn't expect to see Michael appear up at my front door at around six pm AGAIN for a study session.

He claimed that he needed more help with the paper and he had asked his mother about the project which was good so I invited him in but I was still really mad about him and stuff but he didn't say anything.

It was a proper study night. No arguments, no insults, no pencil snatching, I feel like he actually took my words to heart.

God, for a boy like him, that was not usual. It was really weird to look at.

But it was peaceful I guess which was enjoyable. Really enjoyable, I almost burst out laughing on how serious he was acting.

Anyway, moving on.

I called Terry again earlier today and chilled in my room, drinking orange juice from a glass. I felt like suddenly everything was in control again, except for Michael of course.

Wrong.

I was completely and utterly wrong.

"-so like, I went up to him right and he smelt so bad! I think I shed tears or something because he asked me if I was okay. Of course I'm not okay! You smell on sweat and cigarettes! Oh my god, does he even shower?" Terry exclaimed through the phone, I giggled. Boys were disgusting sometimes.

"I don't know, I've hardly met any boys in my life, except for my ex boyfriend in Cali, he was on a different level of lame." I replied chuckling, I rolled onto my back on my bed, pressing the phone tightly against my ear.

"Oh, lucky you, I never seem to get boys for some reason, they just stare at me weird and call me a slut, great way to live life." Terry responded with a sigh, my smile faded.

I thought of a friendly response, completely unaware of my surroundings. "I promise it'll get better, I've been here almost two months and that asshole Michael won't stop coming onto me but I believe it'll stop eventually because-"

I heard loud knocking which I just assumed was coming from downstairs but it sounded so clear. There was no way it was coming from downstairs.

Terry heard me hesitate. "What happened? You still there?"

I frowned, I sat up and looked around my bedroom. "Uhm yeah everything's... cool." I replied, my gaze stopped at my bedroom window. The knocking came again.

I realised it was coming from my window. Someone knocked again, this time their fist showing through the glass. I raised my eyebrows.

"Terry hold on, I'll-I'll call you back." I said hesitantly. Who the fuck was at my bedroom window at this time at night?