Punk Meets Perfect
Chapter 2
Michael’s P.O.V.
I walk into detention after school and see Anastasia sitting at a desk. She looks up and glares at me. I walk past her and sit behind her. I stare at her long, straightened, brown hair. It’s gorgeous. I notice Jada walk in and wink at me. Why is she here? She sits next to me, popping her gum as she scrolls through her Twitter feed.
“What are you doing in here?” I hiss.
“Let’s just say that I “verbally abused” some kid and got detention. Totally uncalled for. It’s crazy that I got detention today, isn't it?” Jada says, faking innocence. I know how she works. She did this on purpose, because somehow she found out that we would be in here. It’ll be just my luck that she follows us to Ana’s house.
“Whatever,” I say, and sigh. I slouch in my seat and sigh. Mum’s going to kill me when she finds out that I punched a kid, got detention, and I’m falling my classes. She thinks I’m perfect, because I’m different at home. Soon enough, my two worlds are going to crash together if I don’t do something, quick.
Anastasia’s P.O.V.
Mrs. Hollak walks in and lectures us about the importance of staying in school, and getting good grades. I’m already perfectly fine the way I am. I have perfect grades. I’m going to stay in school. This was Michael’s fault. Why did I take the blame for this?
I zone out the principle and stare blankly at my book bag on the floor.
“Ms. Summers!” Mrs. Hollak barks.
“Yes?” I say, looking up innocently.
“What did I just say?” she yells.
I look at her, starting to hyperventilate. I have no idea what she said before. “Um, something about the importance of perfect grades?” I say, hopefully.
“You just earned yourself ISS tomorrow!” she snaps. “Pay attention!”
“Fine then,” I mutter. I glare at her, but pay attention.
Once detention is over, I give Michael directions to my house, even though I am not comfortable with him knowing where I live. I walk out to my Lincoln Navigator 2015 and hop in.
“Bye!” Jada shouts as I drive off.
I get home and grab a bottle of Dasani water a granola bar, and my Algebra book. I sit down in the living room and turn on Pretty Little Liars. I drop the book on my coffee table and it hits with a loud Bang! I eat the granola bar and throw the wrapper away.
I sit down, just to hear someone pound on the door. Instantly, I know it is Michael. He seems like the type of person to do that.
“Coming!” I groan, and drag myself off the couch. I open the front door, to see that Michael changed into a grey, long-sleeved shirt. The scars...
I smile at him and he follows me into my living room. He sits down and I turn off the TV. Too much of a distraction.
“Okay, so, we can work through tonight’s homework and then work on your late homework,” I say. I always have to plan what I’m going to get done before I do it. It’s just a habit of mine. “Page 283, numbers 1-15,” I remind him.
“This is so confusing. How do you understand any of it?” Michael moans.
“Because I pay attention in class. Okay, number one.” I say.
As I explain how to do the first problem, I notice him staring at me. “Is there a problem?” I ask.
“What? Uh…no…not at all.”
I go back to explaining and he is still staring at me.
“MICHAEL CLIFFORD!” I shout. “Pay attention! I’m trying to help you to not fail. Do you even want a good grade?”
“Of course,” he murmurs. “I’m kind of busy right now, though.”
“Why are you staring at me?” I ask.
“I don’t really know,” he replies, at ease.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
“Not the point. Okay, you can’t hide this from me, Michael. I saw them. I saw the cuts. Why?” I ask, my voice lowering to a whisper.
“I…I don’t know what you are talking about…” he mutters.
“Of course you do,” I say. “Just tell me.”
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “It all started when I was three years old, my sister died of cancer. Her name was Perrie. Then, at six my father died of heart failure. I was left with my mother, and she was broken, beyond fixation,” he whispers, the tears starting to rain down his cheeks. “She left me at home, while she went to clubs. I was sitting at the table, all night, starving and waiting. Just waiting. She would come back, high, drunk, or both. She almost always had a man with her.”
Michael stops and chokes on tears.
“I…I’m s-sorry. She would hit me and verbally abuse me. The men would hurt me, and she would laugh. She was sick. I had lost contact with her, until recently. She decided to pay me a visit. I was depressed and cutting at the age of nine. It was horrible and…and I’ve been d-doing it ever since.”
I stare at him in shock. “M-Michael. I am so sorry. That you had to go through that.”
“It’s not your fault,” he whispers.
“Do you…want to, um,” I pause and gulp. “Stay tonight?”
He silently nods and I hug him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you,” he says.
“No, I’m glad you did. It helps me understand you better.”
I walk into detention after school and see Anastasia sitting at a desk. She looks up and glares at me. I walk past her and sit behind her. I stare at her long, straightened, brown hair. It’s gorgeous. I notice Jada walk in and wink at me. Why is she here? She sits next to me, popping her gum as she scrolls through her Twitter feed.
“What are you doing in here?” I hiss.
“Let’s just say that I “verbally abused” some kid and got detention. Totally uncalled for. It’s crazy that I got detention today, isn't it?” Jada says, faking innocence. I know how she works. She did this on purpose, because somehow she found out that we would be in here. It’ll be just my luck that she follows us to Ana’s house.
“Whatever,” I say, and sigh. I slouch in my seat and sigh. Mum’s going to kill me when she finds out that I punched a kid, got detention, and I’m falling my classes. She thinks I’m perfect, because I’m different at home. Soon enough, my two worlds are going to crash together if I don’t do something, quick.
Anastasia’s P.O.V.
Mrs. Hollak walks in and lectures us about the importance of staying in school, and getting good grades. I’m already perfectly fine the way I am. I have perfect grades. I’m going to stay in school. This was Michael’s fault. Why did I take the blame for this?
I zone out the principle and stare blankly at my book bag on the floor.
“Ms. Summers!” Mrs. Hollak barks.
“Yes?” I say, looking up innocently.
“What did I just say?” she yells.
I look at her, starting to hyperventilate. I have no idea what she said before. “Um, something about the importance of perfect grades?” I say, hopefully.
“You just earned yourself ISS tomorrow!” she snaps. “Pay attention!”
“Fine then,” I mutter. I glare at her, but pay attention.
Once detention is over, I give Michael directions to my house, even though I am not comfortable with him knowing where I live. I walk out to my Lincoln Navigator 2015 and hop in.
“Bye!” Jada shouts as I drive off.
I get home and grab a bottle of Dasani water a granola bar, and my Algebra book. I sit down in the living room and turn on Pretty Little Liars. I drop the book on my coffee table and it hits with a loud Bang! I eat the granola bar and throw the wrapper away.
I sit down, just to hear someone pound on the door. Instantly, I know it is Michael. He seems like the type of person to do that.
“Coming!” I groan, and drag myself off the couch. I open the front door, to see that Michael changed into a grey, long-sleeved shirt. The scars...
I smile at him and he follows me into my living room. He sits down and I turn off the TV. Too much of a distraction.
“Okay, so, we can work through tonight’s homework and then work on your late homework,” I say. I always have to plan what I’m going to get done before I do it. It’s just a habit of mine. “Page 283, numbers 1-15,” I remind him.
“This is so confusing. How do you understand any of it?” Michael moans.
“Because I pay attention in class. Okay, number one.” I say.
As I explain how to do the first problem, I notice him staring at me. “Is there a problem?” I ask.
“What? Uh…no…not at all.”
I go back to explaining and he is still staring at me.
“MICHAEL CLIFFORD!” I shout. “Pay attention! I’m trying to help you to not fail. Do you even want a good grade?”
“Of course,” he murmurs. “I’m kind of busy right now, though.”
“Why are you staring at me?” I ask.
“I don’t really know,” he replies, at ease.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
“Not the point. Okay, you can’t hide this from me, Michael. I saw them. I saw the cuts. Why?” I ask, my voice lowering to a whisper.
“I…I don’t know what you are talking about…” he mutters.
“Of course you do,” I say. “Just tell me.”
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “It all started when I was three years old, my sister died of cancer. Her name was Perrie. Then, at six my father died of heart failure. I was left with my mother, and she was broken, beyond fixation,” he whispers, the tears starting to rain down his cheeks. “She left me at home, while she went to clubs. I was sitting at the table, all night, starving and waiting. Just waiting. She would come back, high, drunk, or both. She almost always had a man with her.”
Michael stops and chokes on tears.
“I…I’m s-sorry. She would hit me and verbally abuse me. The men would hurt me, and she would laugh. She was sick. I had lost contact with her, until recently. She decided to pay me a visit. I was depressed and cutting at the age of nine. It was horrible and…and I’ve been d-doing it ever since.”
I stare at him in shock. “M-Michael. I am so sorry. That you had to go through that.”
“It’s not your fault,” he whispers.
“Do you…want to, um,” I pause and gulp. “Stay tonight?”
He silently nods and I hug him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you,” he says.
“No, I’m glad you did. It helps me understand you better.”
Notes
Hey guys! It's Emily here! Here's my first chapter in the story! I'm so excited and I hope you love the story! Thanks for the first two suscribers....Haley should update soon....
-Emily_is_a_penguin
XxXx
ruh roh
4/24/15