Idiot Chat ➳ m.c

Never Be

»Ashlee«

"I need your love to light up this house."

When Michael told me to pull into his parent's driveway, memories came flooding back. Every time I come to his house, I remember every memory we shared here. Like the tree house except far worse.

The motorbike came to a halt with the crackling sound of the rubber on the concrete. I slid off the bike and let my hair loose from the helmet.

Michael made a sharp sound; I whipped my head around to see him cowering slightly. He rustled around under the seat for the shopping bag. He pulled the bag out and smiled at me. I shot a smile his way as we made our way inside.

"Michael, is that you?" I heard Karen calling from somewhere in the house.

Michael had already taken a step up the stairs. "Yeah, Mum! Is Dad home?" I only wondered why Michael was asking if his dad was home.

I'd almost forgotten that his dad doesn't like Michael dying his hair. Michael had to secretly do it when his father was out, or Mike was at someone else's house.

"No, he isn't, is someone else there with you?" Karen asked.

Michael victorised for a second before replying. "Yeah, it's Ashlee!"

"Oh," Karen sounded surprised. "Hello, Ashlee."

"Hello, Mrs Clifford," I replied back.

I could tell Michael was getting impatient, he was tugging lightly on my hand. "We're just going upstairs." Michael projected his voice through the house.

He didn't wait for Karen's answer he just pulled me up the stairs excitedly to his room. I understood his urgency of dying his hair before Daryl came home. Karen would be okay with it. Michael told me how his mum likes me. He said something about her, saying I was a good influence on him. I don't know how, I was just as rebellious as Michael. I wonder if Karen's attitude will change towards me when I dye my hair.

Michael threw an old tank top at me, but it already had different multicoloured stains from what I could see. I whispered a small 'thanks' and pulled my Nirvana shirt over my head.

I glanced up to see Michael had his shirt off too. He was pulling his arms through the sleeves of another dye-stained shirt. My eyes became stuck on the pale skin of his stomach. Before Mike pulled the shirt over his head, he looked up at me.

I realized I was only in my bra and jeans. Michael didn't have a shirt on either. We stood there, staring at each other's bare bodies. It's not like we hadn't seen one another unclothed before, we'd shared a bath as small children. But I guess it was different now.

My mind drifted off to thoughts of Karen walking in and seeing this awkward interaction. I pulled the top on quickly and did Michael a second later.
It didn't take any of the awkwardness away. Michael coughed.

I perked up. "We should get your hair done before your dad comes home."

Michael grinned, "And yours too. I can't wait to get rid of this blonde."

I laughed, and we went into the upstairs bathroom.

* * *

Michael was washing his hair in the shower. My hair was finished and dried first - I looked in Michael's bedroom mirror at my pale pink hair. We'd given up on streaks and dyed the whole thing a pastel pink. Ashton would freak out; he would probably go off at Michael during school tomorrow.

I wouldn't stand for it. I'd tell Ashton to back off or something. God, I wanted to mouth back at him sometimes.

Michael came out from the shower, drying his hair with a towel. His chocolate brown hair was dripping from the shower he'd just had. Small droplets fell into his clean ACDC singlet. His tight jeans had a rip in one knee; I liked how his pale skin shone through.