Mickey's Lessons on Bad

Lesson 18: The Arts of Tease and Flirt

As usual, Michelle strided down the halls towards her locker in the morning. But this time, the atmosphere around her was different, but not in a way that could be pinpointed– just different. And for two reasons that is.

       Firstly, for a good week or so, Michelle had been avoiding Mickey at all cost after school or during lunch. But he has been like him old self, just going out for lunch or hanging out with friends after school. It was a large relief to her, because she needed time to think of that day. That day when Ronnie said a certain words about for feelings for a certain someone and that kiss with that exact certain someone.

       What came over me? she hissed to herself, stopping in front of her locker. She rolled her shoulders before she unlocked the locker and started swapping books.

       And, secondly, today was the day she dreaded most. The day most people happen to be in love with, but not her– never did and never gonna. Michelle’s birthday. Ever since elementary school, everyone knew better than to wish her a happy birthday, knowing her usual, upset response.

       She noticed all of the discreet glances sent in her direction, the silent want filling their eyes. Most of these people that looked at her were mainly the types that enjoyed making a big deal out of birthdays just for the hell of it. Others were some of her friends. None of these people were able to wish her happy birthday before in their lives– not even for the most important birthday of a girl’s life the “Sweet Sixteen”–, which built up this want.

       Out of nowhere, something gently caressed Michelle’s lower back, just above the butt.

       Her head snapped to the side and she was ready to yell at whoever it was, only to squeeze her mouth shut and widen her eyes. Standing there in all perfection was Mickey with a pinkish-white rose between his lips as he leaned against the locker. He was dressed up very nicely in a black, button up shirt and a nice pair of dark-washed jeans, with a new haircut.

       Instead of his hair being long, hanging over the back of his neck, it was shorter around the back. The front of his hair was cut shorter so that it didn’t cover most of his forehead, only a portion of it. His haircut actually looked really good with the soft curls, which from a few pictures Elle has shown her before, that were actually naturally in his hair. (It was greatly amusing to find out that Mickey straightened his own hair, though it wasn’t that surprising.)

       At least I can still run my fingers through his–

       Purposely interrupting her own thoughts, she broke their silence by asking teasingly, “Well, don’t you look swell?”

       He pulled the rose from his lips and grinned at her, showing the light marks in his lips made from the few, not as sharp, thorns. “It’s a big day,” he responded. His smile faltered. “And I’m currently in a bet with Ronnie and my mom about whether I could manage to not act like a bad ass for the day, just to relieve my mom that I’ll be ready for the banquet.”

       Confusion washed over Michelle at all the news she was told at once. “Uh, a few questions. What big, er, day? What do you get from this, uh, bet? And,” she paused for a moment to remember her last question, “what banquet?”

       “The one I’m supposed to be bringing you, because that was a part of the deal,” he answered quietly then spoke louder, “And I forgot all your other questions. Repeat, por favor.”

       “What do you get from the bet?” she repeated, mentally slapping herself for forgetting about the banquet. Though Mickey never did tell her around when the banquet was supposed to be, so of course, she didn’t worry about it that much.