Mickey's Lessons on Bad

Lesson 32: Be Rude, Show No Mercy

Anger.

       The urge to kill was strong.

       It raged from head-to-toe.

       Murder did not sound like a bad idea with the sloshing noise made by every step.

       “Oh, c’mon, Minnie! C’mon back!”

       Stepping into the nice and warm house, Michelle pulled off her soaking wet hat and slapped it to the ground. She continued sloshing her way into the house, making a mental promise to clean after herself. She climbed up the stairs then slowly turned around to look at the four idiots standing there with grins on their faces. “I-I h-hate a-all o-of y-you,” Michelle stammered, her teeth clattering. She turned on her heel and continued her way up the stairs, unzipping her winter coat.

       “It wasn’t that bad!” Ronnie hollered, a chortle of agreements from the twins quickly following.

       She stopped at the top step and glared at them– each dry except for occasional wet spots from the snow. “I-I h-had sn-snow st-stuffed do-down ea-each l-l-layer I h-had,” she retorted, violently shivering. She knew that Mickey already felt guilty from the frown and lack of amusement on his face and Tyler was the next to go down while Trevor and Ronnie were standing strong.

       But what got all of to frown was when Michelle sneezed.

       “Fucking idiots,” Mickey cursed under his breath and hopped up the stairs, skipping every other step. He grabbed her hand and dragged her upstairs. “You guys can all leave, or what Ronnie would do–”

       “Let’s play videogames!” Ronnie howled and ran into the living room, quickly followed by Trevor. Tyler looked hesitant, but went anyways.

       “Y-You ar-are n-not g-going to help m-me!” Michelle hissed when he dragged her into his bedroom and stripped her from her layers of coats, causing a lot of snow to drop to the floor. She barely noticed the kitten sleeping on the corner of the bed, curled up with his tail tucked between his legs. “M-Mickey, g-go aw-away!” She sneezed yet again and Mickey shot her a disbelieved look.

       “You need a nice, hot bath,” he responded, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried out of the room and, within two minutes, came back with a small smile on his face. “I’m pouring the bath for you now. You go in,” he kissed her forehead again, “and I will bring your pajamas and some snacks.”

       “Wh-Who ar-are y-you?” she clattered, attempting a smile on her frozen lips.

       He laughed at her and kissed again her forehead. “I don’t want you getting sick for New Year’s. There’s going to be a big party here and I need to brag– or more like my mom needs to brag that I have a girlfriend,” Mickey said, one side of his lips up in a slanted smile, tugging off one of her sweaters. “There’s going to be more of my family members there.”

      “O-Oh, gr-great,” she muttered.

      He grabbed her hand and pulled out of his room, to the bathroom that Michelle used to use before they “started dating again” or whatever that time was. He closed the door behind her then walked over to the bathtub and turned off the faucet. “I would love to take a bath with you,” he said, pulling off her final shirt then began working on pulling off the layers of pants, “but I don’t particularly trust the duo downstairs.”

      Michelle attempted rubbing her arms to warm herself up. “Pl-Please, t-tell me y-you me-mean R-Ronnie an-and Tr-Tr-Trevor,” she choked out before the sneeze escaped her lips.