Mickey's Lessons on Bad

Chapter Three

A gentle knock came from the bedroom door, and Michelle weakly croaked, "Come in."

The door opened wider and wider until it revealed an elderly woman standing behind it. Entering the room with a glass of tea in her left hand and a plate of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies temporarily balanced on her left forearm, lodged in the crook of her elbow, Mariana Richmond inquired, "Ellie, my darling, how are you feeling?"

Michelle's arm slipped over her eyes, and she muttered, "Better, I guess."

Her grandmother clicked her tongue, placing the glass and plate on the nightstand beside the bed. "Well, rest up until you're a hundred-percent. I'll be down––"

"Quit babying her, Na," snapped a familiar voice coming from the doorway.

Michelle didn't need to look up to know it was none other than her older cousin, Francesca (or Fran, what everyone called her). Fran was a year older than Michelle, attending the local community college since she couldn't afford anything else. She had always been considered an older sister instead of a cousin to Michelle, because Fran had been living with Michelle's family for as long as either girl could remember before they moved into their grandparents' house together. Everyone easily believed that the two girls were sisters––with their matching curly, light blonde hair; very light, almost icy, blue eyes; and petite figures––so that was what they always told people whenever they asked their relationship.

"Oh, hush, you!" Mariana hollered. "Ellie isn't feeling well."

"She puked once––and that was a week ago and at school," Fran snapped back. Michelle dropped her arm from her face to glance over at her irritated cousin. "She's just in the dumps over the break-up. She can't become a high school dropout over a guy."

Michelle cringed at her words, but couldn't disagree. She definitely couldn't avoid Logan and Olivia forever, but then again, they weren't the only reason she was avoiding school. A certain untamed-haired bad boy kept coming to mind and leaving her with terrible stomachaches. She couldn't risk running into Mickey after the whole car incident––after slapping him across the face. Mickey frickin' Varsity of all people!

Her thoughts were suddenly broken when a hand gently stroked her cheek. Michelle looked up and found a pair of dark navy blue eyes staring into her light blue ones. She wanted to reach up, catch a lock of her grandmother's hair, and tease her about her cheap, extremely light blonde hair dye not doing a good job at hiding the gray, but couldn't muster up the energy to do so.

"Ignore your sister," Mariana murmured softly with another caress. She refused to acknowledge Fran as anything other than Michelle's sister––as a part of her original family––as the only daughter of Joseph and Faye Richmond, two names dead to the family. "I know you've been having really bad indigestion––"

"Cookies ain't gonna help indigestion," Fran snapped.

A mischievous smirk that only Michelle could see spread across her grandmother's face. She whispered, "Feel better, darling," kissed her forehead, and left the room––not without stopping next to Fran and asking, "Don't you have class?"

The eighteen-year-old smirked at the retreating figure and shot back, "In an hour!" She then looked into the bedroom and frowned at the sight of her younger cousin. "You okay, kiddo?"

Michelle stayed silent for a moment then said, "No... I don't think so... Honestly, I don't know." A groan escaped her lips, and she draped her arm over her eyes again, whimpering, "I don't know, Fran." From the silence she received in response, she thought Fran walked away until her older cousin finally spoke after two minutes.