The next morning, I roll over in bed, noting that the sun hasn't come out yet and wondering why I am awake. When my mind reminds me that it is Saturday, I roll over with a frustrated sigh and try to fall back asleep.
"I know it's early but there's a lot to do today, Katherine."
I sit bolt upright, my heart racing a mile a minute while simultaneously realizing that there is no danger when I recognize the voice.
"Michael!"
"Yes?" He smirks from the chair next to my bed.
"Oh my god!" I sit up, drawing the comforter around my body, concealing my bare legs from him. "What the fuck?" I nearly yell.
"Why do you always swear at me?" he asks, like we are having a normal conversation.
"Because you keep breaking into my apartment!"
"It's not 'breaking in,'" he says, using his fingers to draw quotes in the air. "I'm using a key, which you so kindly allowed me to know the location of."
"I'm moving that key. You are a stalker."
"Yep. Get up. Like I said, we have a busy day."
"No!" I look at him incredulously. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you're fucking crazy."
"Okay, Katherine, I sincerely apologize for 'breaking in' to your apartment and for scaring you. Please be my friend again," he says sarcastically.
"I was never your friend."
He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Come on."
For reasons that I will never understand, I push the comforter off of me with a groan and pull on a pair of shorts that I left next to the bed. Michael leaves the room to allow me to get dressed, and I wonder why I am even humoring him.
Deep down I know that there are true reasons, but I don't want to confront them. Not yet at least, maybe not ever. Damn this purple haired boy who fell into my life and hasn't left me alone for more than eight hours since.
Whatever this "busy" day entails, jeans and t-shirt will have to suffice. It is before sunrise on a Saturday, I can't believe I even have my eyes open. What is Michael trying to do? Waking me up this early and in such a rude manner is not exactly an effective way of earning my affection.
I pull my hair into a ponytail and stomp into the kitchen, where Michael is sitting at the barstool. I walk to the counter so that I am across from him. He slides a plate across the counter to me, so forcefully that I have to catch it before it falls off. It is a slice of cold pizza, which I see he has already delved into.
"Breakfast," he says with a mouth full. I roll my eyes and walk over to the microwave. "What are you doing?" Michael asks.
"Heating this up," I say. What does he think I'm doing?
"Oh no you're not," he laughs, beckoning for me to come over to him. "You have to eat it cold," he says. His eyes are so wide, so sincere and insistent, you would think he was asking me for a kidney.
"I'm not going to eat it cold."
"Hot pizza in the morning? That's disgusting," he cringes.
"Pizza in the morning is disgusting! Being awake this early on a Saturday is disgusting! You know what, fuck this, I'm going back to bed," I say it with a laugh but I am completely serious.
"Kate, wait up," Michael grabs me by the arm as I pass him and I snap backwards, wrenching my arm out of his grip. The second he realizes that I don't want him to touch me, he drops his hand like I am a hot iron. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... sorry." His cocky attitude vanishes in a flash, replaced by someone... insecure almost.
"It's fine," I whisper. Michael averts his eyes. "Where are we going?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood. He looks up at me, and for the first time I realize what an interesting color his eyes are. A green so pale that the color seems to be lacking something.
"I thought you were going back to bed," he laughs.
"You have ten seconds to change my mind."
He thinks for a moment. "I can't tell you where we're going, I don't want to ruin the surprise," he purses his lips.
"Then at least tell me why we're going."
Michael reaches around me and grabs a set of keys off the counter. They must belong to him, because I have never seen them before. "We are going because I've known about this place for a while, I just haven't ever had a friend who could come with me." With that, he starts walking toward the door. I know that he is giving me a choice whether or not to follow him, and I also know that he is desperately hoping that I do.
And I do.
