Damn, You're Cute (Michael Clifford)

Chapter 82

Don't hate me ahhh!! I know I'm the worst but school has been so crazy that I haven't updated in FOREVER so here it is!! (Sorry for taking like five thousand years)

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I returned to the booth with puffy eyes that I had tried to conceal with makeup from my purse. Clearly, it didn't mask my crying like I'd hoped because Caroline sent me a confused, yet pitied smile at my obvious unease.

I avoided looking at Michael as the three of them let me slide quietly back into the booth. I didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes again.

I focused on the design of the table top as the waitress came and went, my finger tracing the intricate colors and shapes. Ashton and Caroline managed to carry most of the conversation because Michael and I were uncomfortably quiet. I barely spoke a word once the food came, only mumbling a response about how it good it was while Michael dazedly swirled his drink with a straw.

His cup dripped with condensation and if it weren't for our friends, we probably could've heard the water fall slowly fall to the table. I watched as Michael caught a drop on the pad of his finger.

The waitress eventually cleared the table and I sat on my hands, resisting the urge to bolt from the booth. I needed to get out of this restaurant with its ever-shrinking walls and limited space. There was too much tense air packed in the small booth between Michael and I, so when it came time, I half-heartedly argued to pay the check while bouncing my leg anxiously.

I rummaged through my purse and announced, "I think I have cash somewhere."

Caroline didn't expect my loud statement due to my earlier mood, so she snatched the check before I could and handed it to Ashton.

"I've got it, really," he insisted with an equally surprised expression, but Michael only shook his head and passed some money across the table.

"Split it," he told Ashton with lips pressed into a straight line, and that was the last thing either of us said.

Ashton thankfully agreed to cut the bill in half and the four of us were finally out of the stuffy restaurant after what felt like the longest hour of my life.

I thought that once I was outside with fresh air, I would be able to breathe, but when Michael glanced at me and headed toward the car without a word, my throat felt like it was closing in. I gave Caroline a limp hug and followed behind Michael with my head hung low.

I felt like a child who had been yelled at by her mother or a dog who was scolded by an owner. I loathed the way Michael looked at me because he didn't give me his usual gaze of adoration. I no longer felt like the luckiest girl in the world when his eyes rested on me since they now flitted to my face before moving away as if he didn't like what he saw.

The silence that ensued the click of my seatbelt was so intimidating that I dared to peer over at Michael with a worried bite of my lip. He sat beside me with his eyes on the keys as he started the ignition. His shoulders were perfectly aligned and tensely held up near his neck.

"Michael," I spoke before he could back the car out of the parking lot. He neck swiveled sharply toward me and for the first time, I noticed that his eyes held more than disappointment. As they bore into mine, I saw a hint of something much more plaintive.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" he quickly said with a sigh and put the car in reverse, not waiting for my response. I swallowed and nodded, focusing on passing cars to avoid the stinging tears that were building up once more. I had already cried, I couldn't let it happen again just because of his terse tone. I was pathetic.