Mickey Who? [OLD VERSION]

~7~ My Post?

Chapter Seven: My Post?

Song for this chapter: “You Don’t See Me” By safetysuit

     Ding dong! Ding dong!

     At the sound of the doorbell, I reluctantly drew my eyes away from the television. Currently, I was watching one of my favorite movies of all time: How to Train a Dragon.

     “Mom?” I called out throughout the house, puzzled by the intrusive bell. “Are you expecting someone?”

     After a few moments of silence, a muffled response came back. “No, I don’t think I am. Can you check who it is?”

     “Yeah,” I replied, summoning the energy to heave myself up from the warm, comfy couch.

     For a moment, I wondered who it was. But as soon as I opened my door, I really wished I hadn’t. There in front of me, stood a grinning brunette boy.

     “T-Trent?” I managed to choke out, after what seemed like forever. How did he know where I lived? First it was turning up at Heather’s house and now mine?  I was seriously beginning to think Trent was a stalker.

     From my shocked reaction, his grin grew ever wider. “S’up Mickey.”

     I could feel my brow twitch at the sound of my…pseudonym. “What’re you doing here?” I demanded. My dumbfounded expression was quickly growing into a grim one.

     “Just making sure you don’t chicken out on me,” he explained, his hazel eyes sweeping the interior of my house before they landed back on me.

     “I’m not,” I retorted. “How’d you even find out where I live?”

     “A little, blonde bird told me,” he quipped.

     “…Heather.” That girl needed to learn how to shut up sometimes.

     “Yup. She’s a little easy to deceive,” he pointed out.

     I found myself frowning at him. “You’re so rude. Don’t use my friend like that.”

     He raised a brow. “How else would I get your address?”

     I bit the inside of my cheek lightly as I leaned against my wooden doorframe. My eyes took in Trent’s appearance. He wore dark denim jeans, and a plain light green t-shirt that helped define his tone body. His head was angled to the side, in which I assumed to be a teasing manner. But if I didn’t already know him, I’d mistaken that gesture as innocent or even adorable.

     “You could’ve just asked me,” I finally replied. I realized that I was probably staring so I drew my eyes away from him.

     “Pfft,” Trent chuckled lowly. “Would you have seriously told me?”

     “Nope,” I replied curtly.

     “I didn’t think so,” he said, not even attempting to hide the amusement dripping from his words.

     Just as I was contemplating to kick Trent out of my house, the sound of my mother’s voice stopped me. “Ana, who is it?”

     I closed my eyes and shook my head. Knowing my mom, she’d make this situation worse just because she was too nice. After cursing my luck, I turned and gave my mom a small smile, trying to play it off. “No one important.”

     From my peripheral, I noticed Trent continuing to grin…and I was really beginning to get annoyed with him.

     My mom stared at me quirkily, walking up behind me, so she could get a good look at the visitor. Not even ten seconds after her eyes fixated on Trent, I noted that she lit up in a suspicious motherly manner. The look wasn’t too abnormal. It was the kind of look that a mother gave when she tried to convince you to eat your veggies when you were a child…but probably magnified a million times more.