Decode // Michael Clifford

Chapter 1

Part 1: Enmity

En•mi•tyˈenmitē/ (n.) ; the state of feeling or being opposed or hostile to someone or something.

Chapter 1

10 . 4 . 2008

If there was one thing I couldn’t stand more than people who thought that drugs were essential to having a good time, it was being best friends with one of those people. I didn’t know why I was friends with Haley, to be frank, except that I knew nothing else. We’d been joined at the hip since we were five years old, and I wasn’t the type of person to just quit on someone because they got into bad habits.

However, I felt like I should have drawn the line when it came to meeting her dealer in the middle of the brightly lit, completely out in the open school campus because she’d gotten in trouble and couldn’t meet up with him herself. I don’t even know why I had agreed to it in the first place. She’d been caught smoking in the girls’ bathroom again, receiving detention during the period she was supposed to meet her dealer. She’d pleaded with me for a solid ten minutes before I had finally agreed.

I stood in the chilly courtyard, shivering slightly and rubbing the tanned skin of my arms with my hands to create friction, and glanced around nervously. There was barely anyone around, and while that was good for prying eyes, it also meant less coverage for any passerby that might happen to look into the courtyard. I didn’t know who to look for, as I’d never seen Haley’s dealer before, but when I asked her what he looked like, she’d responded with a simple, “You’ll know him when you see him.”

As it turned out, I did know him when I saw him. He didn’t really keep his entrance on the down low. He caught my attention the second he walked around the corner, hands shoved deeply in the pockets of a knee-length black coat. Everything about him was dark, from his hair to the black vans he used to scuff along the pavement. He looked just about the same age as me, but maybe it was the way he held himself, he seemed so much older. He was alone, but he was completely unable to be missed.

He approached me, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He halted a few steps away and let his eyes trail over me, over my dark curls, my ample curves, and my scuffed up tennis shoes. Without speaking, he fumbled in his pocket and brought out a bright red lighter, using it to light the cigarette in his mouth. He took a deep drag and blew out the smoke, the wind carrying it towards me. I coughed.

With the cigarette between two fingers, he gestured at me. “Are you Quinn?” he asked swiftly. I didn’t question how he knew my name, I figured Haley had let him know who to ask for.

I nodded, feeling slightly shaky. He was the definition of dark and intimidating. “Um—yeah. Are you, um, Haley’s—”

“Michael,” he cut me off, nodding slightly and bringing the cigarette to his lips again. It was almost sinful, the way his lips wrapped around the butt of the cigarette each time he took a drag, and I tried not to stare.

“Right. So, here’s the money.” I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, so I thrusted the small wad of cash Haley had given me before she’d left for detention.

Lazily it seemed, Michael reached out and took the cash, careful not to brush his skin against mine. He unfolded the wad and proceeded to count slowly, taking his time. I glanced around anxiously, not enjoying being so out in the open, where it was so obvious a deal was taking place.

“Your friend’s twenty bucks off,” Michael said finally, after recounting twice.

“What?!” I sputtered, disbelieving. How could Haley give you the wrong amount? Was it an honest mistake or had she expected me to just chip in for her? Knowing Haley, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter.

“Twenty bucks off,” he repeated, enunciating each word carefully, as if he thought I was a bit slow.

I sighed, shaking my head angrily at the ground. I was beyond frustrated with Haley at this point, ridden with anxiety that I was going to be caught. The familiar knot in my stomach was ever-present, twisting inside of me and making me feel physically ill. “Listen,” I began pleadingly. “I don’t know how this works, but I do know that I really don’t want to be here, I don’t want to pick up whatever drug Haley is buying off of you, I don’t want my best friend doing drugs, and I don’t even know you, but you probably shouldn’t be doing drugs either. But I’m here because I like to think I’m a good friend, and I really don’t want to go back to her without it. I’ll make up the difference if I need to.”

Michael considered me for several moments, his pale eyes boring into me with piercing strength. I shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his gaze.

Finally, he shoved the cash I’d given him into his pocket and dug out a small baggy. “For the record,” he said with a slight smile, “it’s just weed.”

He held it out, and I took it, hastily pocketing it.

“I’m gonna let her off this one time, but on two conditions, okay?”

I nodded, relief coursing through my body.

“One, you’ve gotta tell Haley to make absolutely sure she has the right amount from now on. If she’s off again, she’ll have to find a new dealer. Two, you have to come to my party on Friday night.”

I felt a sudden shiver that had nothing to do with the weather slip down my body. “Your party?” I blurted, shifting uncomfortably. The knot in my stomach clenched painfully, and I held back a wince.

A sudden grin lifted one half of Michael’s mouth. “You’ve never been to a party, have you?”

“Yes I have!” I shot back defensively.

He laughed, a quite honestly heavenly sound, and replied, “I don’t mean a pink paper plates birthday party, Quinn.”

I tried to shake off how my name sounded on his lips, and frowned at him. “So what if I haven’t?” I knew I sounded like a defensive eight year old, but I couldn’t help it. I knew I was a pretty lame person; after all, I was 16 years old and I had never been to an honest-to-god house party, and usually I could accept it proudly. But there was something about the almost pitying expression on Michael’s face that made me want to fall into a hole in the ground and never reappear.

With a casual flick of his fingers, Michael tossed his cigarette to the ground and stamped it out with his foot. He stepped right up to me, so close that I could practically feel his body heat radiating to mine through the chilly air.

“Then I wanna make sure your first time is amazing,” he murmured.

I swallowed harshly.

He backed away from me, allowing me to let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding, and began to turn away. “Starts at nine. Haley knows the address. See you there,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away from me.

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