Mrs. All American

Chapter 1

It's was an idle Thursday when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I shouted, since I was the closest to the front of the house. To my surprise, I opened the door only to find Michael, the boy from the party my friend insisted I go to.

"What are you doing here?" My voice hushed. He didn't even give a reply, just stepping in, placing one hand on my waist and kissing me. Michael's left hand traveled up to my face, as he pushed me against the wall. I heard my mom's footsteps coming down the foyer hall. I quickly pushed him back, and tried to straighten my now wrinkled shirt. His large hands were now placed at his sides.

Just as I was going to scold him for kissing me, my mom appeared.

"Who is at the door?" She questioned.

Before I could respond, Michael found his voice and said, "Good evening Mrs. Robinson. I'm Michael Clifford, I live next door. I thought I should welcome you guys into the neighborhood"

I stared at him in awe, since this nothing like the boy I met last week.

"Oh that's absolutely lovely! Do you know Emily from somewhere else? We moved in a few weeks ago" She began prodding.
If Michael busts me for the party, I'll bust his ass.

"She was out front a few times and we've talked from time to time," he smiled. What is happening?

"Well dinner is almost ready, Emily. You should invite Michael to eat with us!" My mom suggested, beaming.

"Uh," My words began tumbling out, "Michael would you like to eat with us? Mom, what are we having tonight?" I questioned, but she had left the foyer.

"Mmmm," Michael hummed, moving closer, "I want to finish what we started though"

That's when I realized we still had to discuss what had happened when he first showed up.

"Why did you burst in here and kiss me like that? I can't believe we almost got caught by my own mother! What were you thinking?" Annoyance was resurfacing.

"You know Emily, I think we should go eat. Don't you think?" He smirked, taking my hand and pulling me to the dinning room. He leaned in and stole yet another kiss. His subject change could've given me whiplash.
When we walked into the dinning room, my siblings ogled at of us. He was much taller than us, and his hair was dyed black with some purple streaks running through. He was a sight to behold for them, and was for me when I first met him.

They then began to bombard him with questions like, "Why is your hair colored funny?", "Who's that on your shirt?", and "You have a funny accent!"
To my disbelief, he answered the questions, in the best way that the kids would understand. He smiled at me, and sat to the very left of me. My mom walked in once again, and brought some of the dishes of the food to the table.

"Emily, honey, would you mind helping me in the kitchen?" She asked. I stood up from my seat, letting go of Michael's hand.

"Good luck with them," I whispered, smirking. As I walked of the room, I heard Ezekiel ask, "Are you Emily's boyfriend?"

I joined mom in the kitchen, seeing that she was just finished cutting chicken and placing them on a platter.

"He seems nice"

"He's okay I guess"

"Well I'm glad you have another friend. I've been worried about the big transition. I know that Australia is nothing like New York. I'm sorry it was all so sudden." Was my mom apologizing?

"I'm okay, mom, really" I reassured her.
We brought the rest of dinner out, only to find my dad and Michael talking about music. My father was a big CEO for a music production. Music was our entire family's life. My mom and I both played the piano and sang, and all my siblings were learning how to play various instruments. Michael seemed very intrigued with the subject. I assumed he was a musician as well.
I sat down in my seat next to him, his wandering hand finding mine. Our fingers intertwined and I gave his hand a squeeze. I don't understand why my body is reacting like this. Usually, I'm pretty reserved, but Michael makes me want to get tattoos, wear black leather and lipstick. I don't even know this boy. I mean yeah, we made out a few times, but I don't think I even have his number.

Dinner time was filled with laughs and stories from everyone. My parents thought we would have a little celebration, and they brought out champagne.

"Now Michael, how old are you?" Asked my father.

"Oh, I'm seventeen. How old are you, Emily?" Michael turned to me.

"You already know I'm seventeen, dummy," I responded, playfully punching his shoulder. He grinned down at me. He was much taller than me, even when sitting.

"Well, I think you guys can have one glass of champagne," My mom spoke.
I helped clear the table, and found the glasses for our bubbly drinks. My dad already had the champagne opened, when I returned. My siblings weren't interested in our conversations, previously, so they had already been excused.

We picked up our story on how my mom almost lost me in New York City. Almost 3 hours slipped through our fingers. It was already 8:45PM

"This has been a great evening, but I need to use the restroom," Michael stated.

"Oh of course! Emily, please show Michael to the bathroom."

I stood up and walked to hallway, Michael right on my heels.

"Uhh, this is it, I guess?" I pointed to the door. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in with him.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you we were gonna finish what we started"

"We are not making out in my bathroom that, quite frankly, is used by the other six people living here!" I say in a hushed voice.

"C'monnnn! Live a little" he whined. I had no time to respond because he had pressed his lips to mine, silencing me. Large hands pulled my thighs to wrap around his waist. He set me on the counter, never breaking the kiss. I nudged my hand up his shirt, and he snaked an arm around the small of my back. He moaned softly into my mouth while I used my free hand to tug his hair. Finally, I broke the kiss, heavily breathing.

"It's almost nine o'clock," I stated,"You should get home."

"Yeah you're right" he replied, feeling my butt up. I slapped his hand away and he just smirked.

"Seriously, you should leave before I get in trouble."

"I am, I am."

We walked out of the bathroom as quickly and quietly as possible. My parents had already gone upstairs, but just in case, we snuck to the front. I didn't want to be caught.

"Call me later, okay?" Michael said.

"But I don't have yo-" I was cut off by his lips for, what, the fourth time tonight?

"Check your pockets," he winked. I check my front pockets and then my back ones. Sure enough, a piece of paper with his number was on it.

"We'll see about me calling you. I want to take everything slow, alright? I just moved for goodness sake" I responded. He just waved and walked down the outside steps. What have I gotten myself into?