muke//kissing in the rain

chapter 6

chapter 6

Ever since I started socializing with Michael I've felt different, nice. Cared for. My family cares for me but tend to treat me like a bomb ticking away waiting to explode. Mum loves me and I love her, but she doesn't really comprehend that it's not such a big deal. I'm over it now and I'm fine, really. Some days I feel like I'm just trying to convince myself that I'm able to function properly, but others I'm all good.

Michael has not once treated me this way. He has asked questions, but he's not over sensitive. He treats me like a normal guy. Which is a bit unfortunate at times when I just want to rip off his clothes and kiss every inch of his perfect body. Which is the majority of my waking hours.

When we hang out in person I usually just write things in a notebook, our conversations are so quantitive that I've gone through 5 books in the 3 weeks we've known each other. We text a lot as well. We've gotten to know one another quite well. By quite well I mean I know all the random facts and funny stories, vice versa. Neither of us have gone into anything personal yet, which is understanding. I have my reasons. And I'm guessing he has his.

**************************************************

Mums business trip got extended. She doesn't know how long she'll be away now, but she couldn't decline. We can't afford to turn down an opportunity for her to make more money. We're not exactly poor, but it was different when I had two hardworking parents instead of one.

So I'm eating Chinese takeout on the couch and reading Shakespeare's "a midsummer nights dream", trying not to get noodles on the worn pages of my old copy. Getting this food was the hardest thing. The short man behind the counter was extremely irritated with me because i wrote my order on a sticky note and passed it to him. My palms started sweating when he began to yell at me and I nearly had a panic attack in the middle of the cluttered, dingy Chinese place. I don't wanna be that guy.

It was 7pm when Michael called. I was glad he did, because I finished a midsummer nights dream approximately 2 hours ago and I've been staring at it ever since, thinking about Shakespeare. I was starting to creep myself out.

"We're going out to a party tonight" he basically demanded.

"I'll be by to pick you up at 9. See you then lucifer."

I heard the line go dead and laughed dryly. I have no choice, really. He'd by here in 2 hours. Why the hell would I go to a party. I don't do social situations, with the exception of Michael. the last time I went out anywhere that wasn't for a walk or with my mum was back in 6th grade. It was a friends birthday party. A few years down the road that same friend mercilessly beat the shit out of me in the middle of school.

****************************************

"I'm not going Michael."

Today the voice was an Australian man. I have dubbed him sir Brad of lukesington. But just brad for short. Michael showed up 20 minutes ago looking hotter than a bad sunburn. He had on a Metallica muscle shirt, red and black flannel unbuttoned and black skinny jeans. Being in his presence always make ps me nervous, but right now, I felt like dying I was so red.

He scuffed at the mat with his converse and whined. "Why noottt??"

"I hate people. I hate parties. I don't want to go." Brad spoke with just the right amount of sass. He was totally feelin me.

Michael smirked and crossed his arms. "If you weren't planning on going why did you get all dressed up?" He gestured towards me. I was wearing blue denim skinny jeans cuffed at the bottom, a white tee shirt and a blue and white flannel. For shoes I chose my crisp white vans and my hair was styled in the perfect quiff. Around my neck was a dog tag on a long chain that my mum gave me.