KATE
“Are you mad at me?” Michael asks in a whiny voice.
“No,” I mutter again, rubbing my temples. This time I really do have a headache.
“Come on, Kate. You’re on break, I know you don’t have any homework. Why don’t you just come lay down with me?” He gestures to the open spot next to him on the couch.
“I don’t want to lay down with you,” I grumble, turning back to my computer screen.
“Is it that time of month?” Michael blurts out. I whip around, giving him a death glare.
“I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no,” Michael shrugs sheepishly. “I guess it’s a yes,” he grumbles, turning away after I flip him off.
I do feel a little bad, but not as much as he expects me to. In the two days since we’ve back from my parents’, I know that I’ve been cold and a little distant. How long can I play it off as me not feeling well? Or being busy? There are only so many excuses that I can use before I haul off and accuse Michael of keeping something from me.
I know that he is. He knows that he is. Luke knows that he is. Hell, even Britt knows now.
It is eating me alive, but I can’t ignore the irony that my secret is that I know about his secret.
“Are we having our first fight?” Michael calls from the couch.
“No, but we’re about to be if you don’t shut up!” I shout back. I pull up my criminology online textbook and try to focus on it, getting as far ahead as possible. I might as well do something to keep my mind off what I do and don’t know about Michael.
Minutes later, I feel hands on my shoulders. I jump with a start before realizing that it’s only Michael, and his hands are rubbing with gentle force into my tense muscles.
“It wouldn’t be our first fight,” he says with a humorous nostalgia in his voice. I can’t help the chuckle that falls from my lips; he is right. We’ve been in screaming matches before, but I guess that was before we were… us. “You need to relax, Katherine,” he says lowly in my ear, spinning my chair around and dropping to his knees so that we are face to face when I bend over, taking his face in my hands.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“What’s wrong, really?” He asks gently.
I decide that honesty is the best policy in this situation. “I want to know what Luke told you, when he came to my parents’ house.”
Michael’s eyes close and he sighs deeply, visibly withdrawing. I hold fast though, keeping my hands on either side of his face.
“I don’t want to bring you into that,” he says finally.
