I'm Not Perfect (Michael Clifford)

Chapter 40

Chapter 40

“Can you lift up your shirt a little bit?” He asks while walking over to me and I begin to get nervous. But I sit up and lift it up anyway. I watch Michael’s jaw tense up, so I grab his hand and put it in mine and squeeze it a little bit to show him it’s okay.

Dr. Simons walks over and places the cold metal against my back making me shiver. Michael gives him a death glare so he doesn’t get any ideas. Dr. Simons come around to the front of me and places the stethoscope on my chest, his hand lingering a bit.

“Stop” Michael growls. “Stop that”

But Dr. Simons doesn’t listen and he continues to check my heart beat.

“I said stop!” Michael yells pulling the doctors hand away from me.

“Well, everything seems normal.” He says walking back to the table and writing some more on his paper. “I think you just have a severe case of food poisoning. I wouldn’t be too worried but I’m going to go get the medication.”

He leaves us in the room, the door shutting loudly behind him.

“Why did you yell at him?” I immediately spit at Michael. “He was just doing his job”

“Did you not see him hitting on you? Or when he was touching you?” he rants. “You don’t have to lift up your shirt to use a stethoscope. He is such a pervert”

“Michael it’s fine” I sigh.

“No! No it isn’t!” he yells.

Suddenly the door opens but it isn’t Dr. Simons standing there. It is the one and only, my mother, looking as dressed up as ever. She is wearing a pants suit and a ton of make-up, and her hair is flowing perfectly down her shoulders.

“Mom!” I exclaim sitting straight up. “What are you doing here?”

“They are required to call me since it is your first year of college” she explains, “Now why the hell is the hospital calling me to come see you?”

“I have food poisoning. That’s all”

“Good, that can be fixed easily.” She says, relief washing over her face, until she finally notices Michael.

“Charlotte” she states, “Who is this?”

“Mi-“ I start to say.

“Hi Mrs. Malcolm,” Michael says standing up. “I’m Michael” He tries to shake her hand, but she denies it.

“Why are you here?” She spits at Michael.

“He brought me here” I reply before he can answer and say the wrong thing.

“Well he can leave now, I can handle it” She tells me looking between the two of us. I can see Michaels courage sneaking away from him.

“No.” I say. “He isn’t leaving”

“Look at him!” She yells. “He is just some punk and he is going to hurt you. I know from experience. They will make you feel special, then tear it all away”

“Michael is nothing like that!” I retort.

“That’s what they all think. But I can just tell by the way he looks that he is just some ‘bad boy’ phase of yours. I mean look at your hair! He is just a bad influence, you look trashy."

“Why do you always do this, mom?” I sigh, tears brimming my eyes. “Whenever I find someone great, and we mutually like each other, you feel the need to pick them apart and find every little thing that you think is wrong with them. Why do you think I was so unhappy at home? Because I had no one, Mom. Even you weren’t there for me, and when I tried to get someone to hang out with you forbid me to see them. And I’m not letting that happen again. It isn’t your decision anymore Mom, I have my own life.”