House To House
(11) Michael, What the Hell!
The night started off somewhat smoothly, I took out my textbooks from my bag, starting to explain to her the concept of calculus, trying to make her understand as much as I could, as well as testing her on various things that I recalled learning in class a couple weeks ago. I tried ignoring her flirty winks, and horrific possibility she may have been drunk, or even worse, high.
What I didn't expect is for her to start trying to shed me of my jacket, and grabbing onto the collars of the shirt I was wearing underneath; she was obviously wanting to have sex with me, and it was making me beyond uncomfortable. Coming from a christian family, obviously, this was beyond frowned upon, and even though I didn't follow any religion when on my own, the guilt was still there.
I didn't know what to do; I was panicked, and it was almost like a bad movie scene, except, the roles reversed.
"I don't want to have sex with you, Stacey!". I finally spoke the thought engulfing my mind.
She stopped, and it was at that moment that I realised that she was in-fact intoxicated.
"Right".
It was almost like she had sobered up, right there and then, as for once, she actually paid attention to what I was saying, and somehow managed to understand it, (Somewhat). We decided to cut the whole tutoring session short, as the awkward tension was still very much in the air; I was beginning to get deja vu from the entire experience, as it very well almost mimicked the series of events that took place at dinner.
"Here's the money, for uh, tonight". I turned around on the porch of her house, wincing. "Thanks". I reached my hand out, quickly taking the $20 bill from in-between her perfectly manicured fingertips, and decided to head on home, too tired to find a dollar store to get something for myself.
-
"So how was it?"
As soon as my foot had grazed the welcome matt, Mum decided it had become her duty to be able to get the most information about what had happened at Stacey's house, and the look on her face informed me that I was not going anywhere until a perfect recount was spoken to her.
I decided on a quick response, I could almost her m bed upstairs calling my name as I forced the words out of my weary mouth, telling Mum various lies about how we worked on Pascal's triangle, and other assorted mathematical terms.
But of course, Mum being a math teacher herself, called my bluff.
"Don't you work on Pascals' triangle in year 7?"
"So?"
"Aren't you and Stacey in Year 9?"
I froze.
"She's just really behind, her parents recently got a divorce, so yeah". I lied through my teeth.
Finally, Mum took the bait, and let me finally heave my weary, lanky, ugly body up the stairs.
I pushed down the door handle of my room, expecting it to be pitch black, as Michael had given me the impression that he liked going to bed when the night was still young, but instead looked into the room, fining all of the lights that I had kept on when I had left to go to the tutoring session imported directly from hell, had been left on, and Michael hadn't move from his bed, all this time, still looking into the bag, with a mesmerised look making his face light up like the sun.
I shook my head, but then remembered the kind of history this boy must've had. He deserved nice things, and that was what he was getting.
"I'm going to head to bed". I announced, no expression linked to my tone, as I turned off the main light. I took this moment to start getting undressed, sliding off all items of clothing I had on me, until I was completely naked. The darkness in the room made it easy for me to redress without exposing any of myself to the other boy in my room....until the light flickered back on, lighting up the entire room, and it's entire contents, including a naked version of myself.
"Michael what the hell!". I shrieked, making a wild grab for the Doona cover on my bed, in an attempt to cover myself up.
Michael just stood at the door, looking like an actual deer in the headlights, opening and closing his mouth without any words coming out repeatedly, until he finally managed to point to the empty glass he was holding, and choked out the words "Need more water".
I tried to sit on the bed, catching my breath, just hoping to god he hadn't seen any bruises on my back, complimentary of my not-so-nice run in with Brett the other day.
I looked up, finally realising I should apologise for the shock I must've given him, yelling like that, but when my eyes locked with where he was a couple of seconds ago, I could see he wasn't there anymore, and was probably already high-tailing it down the staircase. I flopped back on my bed. I didn't blame him.
Notes
Okay I'm being serious here, I actually needed to stop typing, shut my laptop, and calm the hell down because of how much I was laughing durning typing the second half of this chapter.
And then I imagined it in my head because I have a vivid, also very dirty imagination, kay?
Oh, also don't forget about that whole 'New Year new book' thing i'm doing, here are the one's i'm working on, just comment your favourite, and i'll put it up as a new story.
Body Of A Dancer, Mind Of A Reject.
I ran up the steps, dripping water on every step I landed on without fail, earning countless glares form the other users of the staircase. by the time I had reached the old wooden door I sadly know too well, I knocked loudly, before pushing it open a fraction, surprised that it was still open. "Sendy, you're late". I didn't reply as I ran over to where I put my bag down, racing to put the the pink lace up ballet slippers Drew had gotten me last christmas on my feet, as all the other dancers, already doing warm ups on the bar snickered at me.
Dimensions.
It was over a year ago, but I could remember it like it was an hour ago. I glass being a shade of deep red from all the blood, and her, in the back seat seat, her head flung back, and her chest split right open, by the baton she had been carrying that day. That never wouldn't have happened if I didn't drive that day. And now, I could see her, on the other side of the TV screen.
Fire And Ice
It felt like my arms were about to fall off; I had been trying for half an hour, but still no sign. All of the other seniors could do it- all of the other seniors, excluding me. I nearly screamed in frustration. My fingers weren't even the slightest tinge of blue, and yet the others were shooting ice out of their fingertips without even thinking about it. It just wasn't fair.
Thunderstorm
way he always used to sing to me when I couldn't fall asleep, the smell of his sweater on rainy days, and how much of a caring man he was. was. I remember the day he dropped me off in the parking lot at school, instead of letting Mum do it. He hugged me tighter than usual, and watched me walk in the gate; something he never did. That was that last time I ever saw my Dad. Another clap of thunder distracted me from my reminiscing, and I jumped. There was no way I was going to fall back to sleep now.
The Refugee
"Mate, are you alright there?" "huh?" Michael looked at me with a funny expression before bending down again, and picking out some wheat from the field, putting it in the basket I had forgotten I was carrying. god knows how, it had to be over a ton by now, we had been out here for what seemed like hours. "That should be enough to make bread for the entire camp, don't you think?" Michael put both hands on his hips, before cocking his head to one side, and wiping he sweat from his brow. "are you sure you're okay there?" he asked again, this time a little more determined to get an answer. "Huh, what yeah, I'm fine". "you don't seem it". "I just had another flashback, that's all". Michael sucked in a breath, before jumping up onto the stile, edging a little closer. "They suck, don't they". he quizzed, sounding more like a statement than anything else.
Sorry guys that was really long
-CM
