Unpredictable

Chapter 13

"Hey, beautiful." Michael smiles as he opens the door. "You look great."

"So do you, babe." He's wearing black skinny jeans and a Blink shirt. I walk into the house. "Where should I put this?" I gesture to my bag.

"You can put it in my room, but we'll probably be spending most of the time down here. Warning, though. I attempted to clean it, but I don't know how well I did."

"Show me where it is." I follow Michael to his room. It's not that messy, just a little cluttered. I put my bag on a chair, then turn to face Michael. "Alright, then. Back downstairs we go." I grab his hand and lead him back to the living room. He sits on the couch and I lay across him, my legs slung across his lap. "So what now?" I laugh a little.

"We could watch tv or play Fifa or something. Anything you wanna do."

"Sorry, I stopped listening after 'play fifa'. I would never play against you, though. I don't wanna crush your spirits." I wink.

"Is that a challenge?" He asks, his eyes gleaming.

"It might be." I smirk.

Michael gets up and sets up Fifa, tossing me a controller. I sit up and get my game face on. I play against Luke all the time. We haven't played in a while cause he accused me of cheating and got mad because I was on a winning streak. Michael sits back down and grins at me. "Just don't get to mad when I cream you."

"That's what I was just about to say."

Well, when I play video games I get pretty into it. I move my whole body and even jump up at times. I have to bite my tongue to keep from yelling. When I look over at Michael, he's focused, his tongue sticking out a little. He looks extremely cute.

After the match, I throw my controller on the couch and jump on Michael's back. "You're a little kitten. Michael Kitten Clifford." I wrap my arms around his neck, pretending to be all cute, but then I flip him off the couch and on to the ground.

"What are you doing?" He asks, surprised.

"Have you ever heard of wrestling?" I laugh and flip him onto his back, holding my arm across his chest. "Cause I'm winning." I wink.

"You want me to beat you in another sport?" Michael asks, laughing a little.

"Fifa doesn't even count as a sport, it's a video game. Plus, you're still on your back."

Michael quickly rolls to his stomach, then flips so that I fall onto his lap. He smirks at me, then lays me down. I fight him, making it on to my stomach. We keep rolling and flipping until Michael is back onto his back. "Alright, babe. I give up. You're just a better wrestler than me."

I laugh and stand, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. "That's probably because I was on the team until sophomore year."

"What happened sophomore year?" He asks while walking into the kitchen. He pulls out a frozen pizza. "Is this okay?"

"Hell yeah, I love pizza." I sit on the counter while Mike gets the oven ready. "Well, when I begged my mom to let me wrestle - it was in like 5th grade - she told me I could until I got a significant injury. She told me as soon as I got hurt, I was done. So that made me kinda reserved with my wrestling. When I got to high school, a coach pointed it out. He said that I may have still won in middle school, but now I had to wrestle with everything I had. So I did, and I made it to Nationals. But during a travel team, between my freshman and sophomore seasons, a guy picked me up and dropped me way too hard. I fractured my skull, so no more wrestling for me."

"Wow. How is it now?" Michael asks, leaning against the adjacent counter.

"Completely fine. I still do sports, though, I just can't wrestle. I have to do basketball instead."