This Year's Love // Michael Clifford

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Brittany Dawson

"Skyzone," I say. "You've brought me to Skyzone at ten a night?"

"C'mon, B, live a little," Michael says, walking backwards towards the building.

"B?" I repeat.

"Your name is a mouthful," he replies with a nonchalant shrug.

"It's two syllables!" I retort. "That'd be like me calling you M."

"You can call me Mikey or Mike if you want," he replies.

"Mikey," I try out the nickname. "Nah, I think I like Michael. Mikey sounds childish."

"Why are we discussing nicknames?" he asks, stopping where he was. "Let's get in there and go batshit crazy."

I laugh, following him into the large building I once came to as a kid. The inside hadn't changed much from when I was twelve, but I did notice they repainted the walls a deep blue color in contrast to the dark green it once was.

"Have you ever been here before?" Michael asks as he leads me to the counter.

"When I was in, like, sixth grade," I answer, leaning against the counter beside Michael.

"I rented it out," he tells me, "because they're technically not open at this time. It's just you and I."

"Seriously?" I ask. "You didn't have to go through the trouble."

"I know." He smiles.

A middle aged woman appears behind the counter a few moments later. Her nametag clearly reads Becky and I instantly thought of my best friend (even though she's a Becca, not a Becky). She's going to freak when I tell her all about today.

"Just make sure you don't have shoes on," Becky tells us. "Be careful."

Michael nods and I thank her. We head to the edge of the entire trampoline filled building. I slip off my Vans, setting them beside Michael's similar pair, but his are black and mine are gray.

"Ladies first," he says.

I shrug, taking my first step onto the trampoline. I bounce a bit, then turn to Michael.

"Get on!" I squeal, grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the trampoline with me.

We bounce softly at first, then Michael goes crazy and tries to get me to fall by jumping super high. He had that advantage because he was at least six or seven inches taller than me.

"Meet you at the pit," I yell behind me as I jump from trampoline to trampoline, making my way to the pit filled with styrofoam balls.

"Oh, no you don't!" I hear his thick Australian accent close behind me.

I screech as I feel him tackle me into the pit. We both fall into it's nothingness, then come up for air moments later.

"I hate you," I declare, making my way to the edge to get out.

"Let's play a game," Michael says, following me out.

"What kind of game?" I question, beginning to jump on a nearby trampoline.

"Just a way for you to get to know me more and vice versa," Michael says, jumping with me.

"Like 20 Questions?" I speak of the corny game.

He shakes his head. "No, that's too cliché."

"Then what?" I ask, my jumps slowing down.

I sink to the trampoline floor and Michael joins me. We both lay on our backs, obviously both not used to so much activeness as our chests heave up and down.