Hoodwinked | Calum Hood AU

39.

I exhale a deep breath as I press the doorbell on the small brick home. I'm hoping this is the right place. The metal letterbox out the front marked with a rusty number 36 tells me that it is, unless they've moved.

I've only been here a few times before. The first time was when Joss and I skipped class to visit Michael who was away from school, sick apparently. Joss had been so worried about him. She dragged me via the chemist to get pain killers and cough medicine. When we got here, it turned out Michael wasn't sick at all. It was the day the new Call of Duty came out and so he faked to get the day off.

Joss had been so pissed at first, but they spent the rest of the day making out in Michael's room and I spent the rest of the day in the living room playing Pokemon on one of Michael's old GameBoys.

The door opens and a blonde woman smiles at me politely, but unsurely. I don't see enough of a resemblance to Michael but I've come this far. "Hi, I'm Ruby. Um, is Michael home?"

She nods, and my insides relax, until I notice her gesture is slow with sadness. "He's in his room. He doesn't want any visitors though."

I figured as much, given that my calls and messages have still gone unanswered. I'm only here because school goes back tomorrow and I thought maybe Michael would want to go together. Like a safety in numbers type thing.

It crossed my mind earlier in the week that I could ask Calum. He dropped off The Outsiders two days after our coffee date, just as promised. Thankfully Alfie was at a play date with Madison and Dad was at work so Calum was spared from an interrogation from either of them. It's bad enough Alfie keeps asking why Luke hasn't been over. I'm putting off a formal introduction to Calum for as long as possible.

I'm still only half way through Calum's book and when I get home, I plan on spending the rest of the day in bed reading but for now, I need to do this. Not only for me, but for Michael too.

"Can you just tell him I'm here? Please?"

Michael's Mum hesitates. She must be worried about him too. As far as I know, he hasn't left the house since Joss's party. "Come on in," she says quietly, moving out of the doorway to let me in. She closes the door so quietly I don't even hear it shut. "His room is the third door on the left," she frowns. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Ruby," I pause, wanting to give a further explanation as to who I am and why I showed up on her doorstep out of no where. "I used to be friends with Joss. I've been worried about him."

 She nods understandingly. "I don't know what happened between him and Joss, but he's shut us all out. Maybe you can get through to him."

I walk down the hall, mentally counting the doors as I go. The house looked small from the outside but it's very long, with at least three or four bedrooms I guess. I realise I barely know anything about Michael outside of his place in Joss's world. Does he have siblings? What's his Mum's name?

When I get to the third door, I pause, trying to decide if I should knock or not. He'll probably tell me to go away if I do but if I simply barge in there without warning he could be naked or jacking off or doing whatever else it is boys do in the privacy of their bedroom. Knocking it is then.

"Go away," Michael's voice grumbles in reply to my pale knock.

"Michael," I lean my forehead against the door. "It's Ruby."

"Go away, Ruby," he says again, but his voice is lighter, like he doesn't really mean it. That's good enough for me.

I push the door open and am thankful to find Michael entirely clothed, his hands clutching a gaming control. On the wall opposite his bed is a tv showing animated zombies. "How are you?" I ask over the sounds of wails and an explosion coming from one of the animated guns.

"I'll be great when I get through this mission," he says, hitting the buttons on the controller. His mouth hangs open in concentration. At least he's awake and conscious.

I look around the room, feeling like perhaps I over-reacted. Maybe he's been hiding out from the world, but he seems to be okay. He's functioning enough to play video games. Plus, he's wearing skinny jeans. People who are having private mental break downs or plans to become a permanent recluse would probably do it in the comfort of sweat pants.

Then my gaze catches the joint on the small white plate next to his bed, paired with an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels, and when I glance back to Michael I notice how bloodshot his eyes are.

"You're high," I say matter-of-factly. I know the signs. My Dad's made me watch enough videos on the dangers on drug use. Thanks Dad, I think to myself, your style of parenting has come in handy once again. I reframe myself from listing the side effects of long term drug use because I might be a detectives daughter but I'm not a Saint myself.

"So?" Michael's still staring at his game on the tv. "I'm no different to any other kid getting wasted on a Friday night."

"It's 11 o'clock in the morning, Michael," I point out. "And today's Sunday."

 He hits a button on the controller and finally looks at me, "It's Sunday?"

I nod. "School goes back tomorrow." Michael looks at me suspiciously, like he thinks I'm trying to trick him. "Look at the calendar on your phone if you don't believe me."

"I don't have a phone anymore. I put it in the blender."

"The blender?" I can't help but laugh.  That explains why he hasn't replied to my texts. "You couldn't just turn it off?"

"I wanted to see if it looked at cool as when the Blendtec dude does it."

"What's Blendtec?"

"Look it up on You Tube," Michael sighs, throwing the controller down into his lap. "Is it really Sunday?" I think he really means: have I really been so wasted I've lost an entire week of my life?

I nod, walking a little closer towards him. I sit on the end of the bed, looking at his pale, drawn face. His eyes seem like hollow holes in his face, just like skeleton. I wonder if Joss's heart would ache at all if she saw him like this. She really did love him, once upon a time, before she became the villain of her own fairy tale.

"You're not okay, Michael, and that's okay. You're allowed to hurt."

"But I don't want to," he says bitterly. His voice chokes up a little and then he swallows hard. "I don't want to hurt. I'm so fucking angry at Joss for what she did. I wish I could hate her enough so that it didn't hurt anymore."

"Do you still love her?"

"I don't know."

"It's okay if you do. Healing takes time." Great. Now I sound like one of those grief posters you see in a therapists office.

"Do you still love Luke?"

"Luke and I were different. What we had was fake." It was supposed to be, anyway.

Michael leans over to the side of the bed and retrieves the joint. A lighter is pulled from his pocket and he looks up at me, "You want some?"

I shake my head, "My dad is a cop, remember? If I go home smelling like weed he'll have me locked up."

"More for me then," he shrugs.

"We've got school tomorrow," I remind him, while reminding myself the real purpose of coming here. "Do you want to ride to school together tomorrow? I could pick you up. I know it probably seems like a dumb idea, I just thought it might be less mortifying if we didn't walk in alone."

"Do you know if they're still seeing each other?"

I shake my head, "I don't know. I guess so. They fought so hard to be together so..." Truth is, I haven't allowed myself to think about it. I haven't wanted to know. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

Michael looks at the joint in his hand and sighs at it, before setting it back down on the plate beside his bed. "Okay," he says. "But I'm really grumpy in the mornings, so don't get pissed and think you did something to make me angry, okay?"

I laugh, "Okay," I promise, and then add, "You're going to be okay, Michael. We both will be."