End Up Here (Michael Clifford a.u.)

Chapter 12

We get to school the next day, Michael and I ignoring each other the day before. I feel guilty for what I said, but I haven't seen Michael once today. I begin to get worried.

I really hate fighting with Michael, but sometimes he doesn't really know when I need to be left alone. He shouldn't have provoked the fight yesterday. Otherwise we'd be talking today.

The only thing I feel guilty about was saying I was in the relationship too and accusing him of being conceited about it. I mean, he can be when he thinks it's about him. I just don't feel the same amount of effort from him.

I drive the girls home after school rather than riding home with Michael. I still don't feel like talking to him for now, so I guess I'll just wait and see. I don't want to listen to music or text anyone to distract my mind. And I don't want to be in my silent room, listening to my family around the house.

I want background noise and time to think about everything

I get home and change into something more comfortable. I fall into my bed and watch anything I can on Netflix, planning on being there for hours. I don't even watch what's on. It's just background noise.

What would I say to Michael when I see him again?

Somehow I end up falling asleep, drifting off but still somewhat awake. Before I know it, two hours have gone by and my mom is knocking on my door.

"What?" I groan.

"Someone's at the door for you," she says.

Who the hell would want to see me?

"If it's any of our annoying cousins, tell them to go away."

My mom opens my door and sighs. "Makenna, get your ass out of bed and go see who it is."

Typical.

I roll out of my warm blankets, shuffling through the kitchen and to the front door. I open the door and see Michael standing on my porch with a single red rose and bag of sour patch kids in his hands.

"Before you reject me," he says quickly, "I just wanted to say how sorry I am for being conceited. You were right. And you're the whole reason I'm even in a relationship. If you didn't agree to be in this with me, we wouldn't be here. You're my everything and I should treat you like it. I'm really really sorry."

He stares at me with hope in his big blue-green eyes. His dark pink lips almost look pouted as if he's trying to give me a puppy dog look.

I take a step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, closing my eyes and burying my face in his chest. I take a deep breath and smell his cologne. I feel his arms around me, holding so tightly I begin to lose my breath. However I don't move. Feeling him this close to me is what I've missed the past couple days.

"I'm really sorry, baby," he mumbles.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have been so mean," I reply. I feel his chin on top of my head.

His heart beats rhythmically in his chest, and the sound is almost relaxing.

He loosens his grip on me before leaning down and kissing me as gently as he can.

"I hate fighting with you," he says. "But you're so hot when you're mad."

I roll my eyes and laugh. "Thanks a lot."

He chuckles. "Sorry." He offers the candy and the rose still in his hands. I take them and invite him inside.

Mom yells at us to be respectful of one another, and we both laugh as we enter my room. I fall on my bed, scooting over to make room for Michael.

"We're having a make up cuddle session," I tell him, playfully patting the space beside me. He kicks off his shoes and lies next to me, intertwining our fingers and wrapping his arm around me.

"I missed you," he says.

"Me too. Where were you today?"

"I left early and basically skipped."

"Why?"

"I thought concentrating on apologizing was more important. You come first."

I smile. "That's sweet of you."

"You know what we should do?" he asks. I roll over to face him.

"What?" I ask, giggling.

"We should get matching hair colors."

"You're crazy."

"No! I'll dye all of mine, since I need a new color anyway, and you can dye just a strip of your hair if that's all you want to do."

"You know I'm not allowed."

"Please?" He pouts as he did before, and his eyes look sad.

"I can't just give in to you every time you give me that look," I tell him.

I stare at him for a long moment in attempt to not give in. But he looks so cute. How can I not do everything he asks?

"Okay fine," I groan. "But it's got to be a nice color."

"What color?"

"I don't know. I kinda want to see you with blue hair. Or maybe purple hair again."

"We'll see. I think you'd look nice with some color in your hair."

"Too bad you won't get to see it much when I'm grounded for a month."

"You're so rebellious. Dating me and dying your hair."

I push his chest, and he rolls onto his back. I prop myself up on him and kiss his lips.

"I'm really sorry about our argument," he says quietly.

I push his hair from his forehead. "It's okay."

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him, both of us laughing as I almost fall off the bed.