|COMPLETED|
"Michael Langwood has Wattpad," I repeated and smirked at him, trying not to laugh.
"I told you it's NOT my account," he grunted, "It's a friend's who stopped using it so he passed it to me and -"
"Shhh," I pressed my finger on his lips...
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Eleven:
"We're here."
Matt got out of the car, closing the door behind him. I reluctantly remained sitting in my seat, my eyes still locked to the windshield before me.
Matt's words played through my mind like a broken record.
He likes you. He likes you. He likes you.
I'd questioned Matt about this subject for the rest of the ride to Michael's house. "What? You're drunk, aren't you? This is why you're making this up? This why you're telling me that Michael likes me, right? Cos there is no way it's true..." I could hear my heart beating in my chest. "Oh god, you're drunk and you're driving... We're gonna die, aren't we?"
Yep, I had been freaking out, alright. And still was, on the inside the very least. But mostly because I didn't understand why Matt would say that to me...
Michael doesn't like me. That's a fact. He never did, doesn't, and won't ever like me.
Why would Michael Langwood like me anyway? I was just plain old me. And he was him. We were complete opposites. Parallel lines. Our only intersection point was Wattpad, the fact that we both read and wrote stories on this platform - even though Michael still had a rough time admitting it.
Matt had only rolled his eyes at my antics. "I'm not drunk, Bree. And I mean it. Michael likes you. He'd never admit it, but I know."
He'd never admit it.
That didn't exactly sound certain to me.
I'd kept arguing with Matt for ten minutes, before he pulled the car in front of a small white house lit by two lampposts which he'd claimed to be Michael's.
"Bree?" Matt tapped in the window door next to me, making me snap from my thoughs. "Are you coming? I need help carrying Michael inside."
"Y-yeah," I said reluctantly, opening the car door and stepping out.
The cold air hit me instantly, causing a chill to travel my spine. I drew my cardigan closer to my chest and crossed my arms together, walking behind Matt as he opened the backseat door to take Michael out.
Matt and I grabbed him by the arms and pulled him outside with a few grunts and groans, a small trail of saliva still pouring down Michael's chin.
Ew.
"Care to remind me why I'm doing this?" I grumbled as I held Michael tight, trying not to drop him.
"Because you're drunk...? You're bored? I'm now your ride home? Or maybe you're one of those rare humans that like helping other hopeless drunks?" he asked hopefully, his lips tugging upward.
I chuckled. "I'd like to think that it's the last one." We managed to reach the front door without dropping him, and that's when I realized that we had one more problem to deal with. "Wait. How are we going to enter inside?"
