Best Friend... or Boyfriend

Chapter 2

Brianna
I wake up in Michael's bed, which is freaky because I don't even falling asleep.

"Michael, wake up."

He just grumbles and rolls over.

"Michaellllllll."

He mumbles something inaudible.

"Michael get up right now before I shove you off this bed!"

He rolls back over facing me and his eyes are slightly open, making him look like he's baked.

"Mikeyyyy! Get your ass up now!"

"And since when did you start calling me Mikey again!?"

"Since you wouldn't get up."

He gives me a hug, "It's so good to see my Breezy, not this freaky ass Bri character taking control of my best friends body."

This makes me laugh. I forgot what it felt like to laugh. He squeezes me tighter.

"Killing me man," I say, and he lets me go. I jump out of the bed and go change into a black crop top, boot cut blue jeans, and my pair of tan cowboy boots, I grab my motorcycle jacket before heading down to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat.

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Kill me now. Garcia and her 'friends' are staring at me, Michael, Kyle, and Alex, who wanted to see the town before he had to go back to Michigan, after summer ends.

"Kyle, it's your turn, dude," I say.

"But I got them last time," he complains.

"Michael did it last now it's your turn wuss."

"When was the last time you took care of them, or anyone for that matter?"

"The last time somebody got between our friendship," I say, waving my hand between me and Michael.

He huffs and stalks towards the girls. When he gets close he gets his flirt on, I roll my eyes, typical guy.

We just walk by the group as Kyle distracts them. We walk to Spanish, our eighth hour class. Michael and I have all the same classes except our last class, Michael's on the football team and has practice from 3:00 to 5:30. I have a free period last hour, I usually just watch practice or go to the library.

We walk into the Spanish room and go to our spot in the back, Alex following us.

Spanish is so boring, so I'm just going to tell you how me and Michael met.

flashback

"Mikey, help get that last box please," a lady, probably his mom, asks.

"Okay, mommy," a little boy around my age answers. He grabs the last box out of the yard and carries it in to the house next to mine.

"Brianna, will you take the cookies we baked to our new neighbors?" Momma shouts.

"Sure thing Momma, I'll be down in a minute," I answer. I search through my room trying to find my pink flip flops that match my dress, after a couple minutes of looking and not being able to find them, I give up and go down stairs. I grab the plate of oatmeal raisin cookies and head outside barefoot with a plate of cookies in my hands.

I ring the doorbell and wait, after a minute the little boy opens the door.

"Hi, my name's Mikey," he says sticking his hand out.

I shift the plate of cookies so they rest on one arm but won't spill. I shake his hand and say, "My name's Brianna."

"Well, isn't this just the best, you're making friends our first day here," his mom says coming up behind him. My cheeks start turning a light shade of pink.