❝HONEY❞
❚chapter two; first name basis❚
WHEN MICHAEL WOKE UP, the sound of his alarm pounded through his head. It was Monday, and also the first day of school.
While other kids where waking up and eating breakfast and all that fun stuff, Michael smacked the clock to get it to shut up and slept, and slept.
And slept.
"Michael Gordon Clifford, get your ass up now!" Michaels mother yelled at him. He groaned loudly at her, making her roll her eyes at him.
"Don't make me get the pitcher." She threatened before leaving his door open and heading back downstairs where she was making breakfast.
'The pitcher' is an old tactic that all parents used, a cup, or pitcher in Michaels case, of ice cold water. Before, Michael would've scoffed and just cuddled up and gone back to bed, but last year he made that mistake and had to go to school with wet hair and blue lips.
Michael huffed, throwing the blankets off of him and willing himself to sit up. There he sat, on the edge of his bed in just a pair of loose grey sweatpants, rubbing his tired eyes and dreading the day that lay before him.
With a sigh, he stood up and walked over to his dresser.
"FUCK!" Michael yelled, stubbing his toe on the leg of his dresser. He examined his toe, frowning at the red mark on the tip.
"What a great start to a great morning!" Michael quietly said to himself, time dripping with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes at himself, grudgingly picking out a white undershirt to put under his uniform.
Once dressed, rather stupidly in his uniform, a white dress shirt, black blazer and black trousers, along with dress shoes, he made his way downstairs. His mother, Karen, greeted him with a big smile and a plate of Pancakes that had only blue sprinkles on them, the way Michael had eaten them since he was little.
"Thanks mum" he sleepily grumbled, sitting at the table and eating them with just his hands, not even bothering with syrup. His mother rolled her eyes at her adult sons childish ways.
"You're a senior, now, Michael. I really want you to try and be good. This is a very important year for you." Michaels mom said, giving him a kiss on the head. Michael nodded, knowing his mother was less than proud of his behavior and grades, but school just wasn't his 'thing'.
Michael had a talent, and that was guitar. He played it whenever he could. Guitar was his thing. Not school.
Michael nodded, mumbling a 'yeah' while continuing to eat. His mind roamed back to Saturday night, when he had seen that girl. It really sucked, because though Michael couldn't remember tons about what she looked like, he remembered her green eyes, and he remembered her ass as she had walked away.
She had a nice ass.
Michael chuckled to himself at the thought. He would probably never see her again, but if he did, he would pounce on that like white on rice.
Michael checked his phone, nearly choking on his pancakes when he saw that he had less than 15 minutes before the first bell.
"Listen, mum" he looked up, "thank you so much these are amazing but I really have to go." He spoke fast, swinging his black backpack over his shoulder and heading out of the kitchen and towards the door.
"Michael!" his mom yelled. He turned around to see her with her arms crossed and a smile on her face.
Michael grinned, quickly walking back and wrapping his arms around her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
