You Will Be More Chill

Chapter Four; You're Wrong About Everything

Needless to say, I wasn't allowed to call Michael back until the next day. Of course, that didn't stop me from asking every ten minutes if I could call him back. My mom was asleep and my step dad, we called him Fuzzy despite the fact that he was bald (it was on purpose), was at work. It was about 9:30 when I woke up. Quickly, I dialed Michael's number which I had memorized by heart, by the way.

It took a few rings for him to answer, but I brushed it off because he was probably still asleep. "Hello?" He mumbled into the phone, his voice groggy and tired.

I smiled lightly. "Hey, Michael. I just figured I'd call and let you know that, yeah, I can come to the arcade with you and Jeremy,"

"Sounds good," He replied. "We're gonna meet there about noon, do you need a ride?" Michael asked.

I paused. "Uh, yeah, actually, if you could?" I stretched, making my way towards my closet.

"I'll probably be there around eleven, so be ready," Michael informed. "I know how you sometimes don't like to get ready right away,"

I chuckled quietly. "I don't need you teasing me right noooow," I complained at him, but that only earned a laugh from the caramel-skinned senior.

"I'll see you then, Lil,"

I nodded, then I remembered I was on the phone. "Uh, right! See you at about eleven," There was a silence, before Michael hung up. I was always pretty bad at ending phone calls.

Get a shower. You will want to wear your Bob Marley shirt, but you may also wear your orange shirt. It will match what Michael is wearing which will be his normal jeans and jacket combination.

I nodded my head once, grabbing the Bob Marley shirt, jean leggings, and under clothes. I got a shower which took about half an hour. In the hour I had left, I dried my hair and got a snack, trying to avoid makeup.

It is only a light eyeshadow and mascara. You will live, I promise.

Why is makeup a requirement?

Michael likes pretty girls, but he is not shallow as to date only for looks. You are already pretty, but the makeup will bring out your eyes. Ask your mother, if you'd like. She can be of assistance.

I can do my own makeup, God. I'm not useless.

I never implied that you were.

I walked back to my bedroom, grabbing my makeup. Under the SQUIP's instructions, I braided my hair, and I used a light purple color for the eye shadow and mascara. It wasn't bad, but I didn't like it with my glasses. There was a knock at the door when I caught sight of the time again, and finally, it was past eleven!

I hurried downstairs after grabbing my jacket, opening the door and smiling at Michael. "Hey, Michael,"

Michael blinked. "Are you...wearing makeup?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.

Tell him you are testing a new look.

"I'm experimenting, Michael. It's a new look that I'm trying, I guess," I shrugged my shoulders.

Michael turned, heading out towards his car. "It's nice on you," He complimented.

I closed the door behind me, following him out. "Thanks," I smiled, ignoring that my cheeks were heating up. I got into the cruiser, humming quietly to myself.

See? He already noticed the change.

Is that supposed to be a good thing?