Punk Meets World || MC *Unfinished and Discontinued*

Ch 9.

(A/N: Not sure if I like it as much as I should. :) Enjoy though!)

"C'mon darling. Just go out and get the few things that are on this list. You know Alex's birthday is in two days and she's like a second daughter to me. I want to make her a cake." My mom begged. I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. We were currently in the kitchen, I was in a pair of white sweatpants and, sadly enough, Michael's gray sweater that I never gave back. She glared at me before shoving the small slip of paper in my hand and pointing to the door.

"I know what happened to you and Michael was hard on you babe, but you need to get out of this house. You've been cooped up in here for a straight week since that party. You're going whether you like it or not. Now go get your shoes on and get those ingredients ya butt." She said. I sighed and nodded, pulling my white beanie down to cover my ears. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my mom's keys, heading out to her car and driving the 7 miles it took to get to the grocery store.

I had told my mom what happened that night with Michael. How could I not? I had walked in a complete mess and sobbed on her shoulder all night. I told her about how I got drunk. I told her about waking up naked with him in his bed. I told her about the fighting afterwards. I told her about how he sees me as nothing more than a one night stand. I told her everything and she said that he was probably crying too. That he was probably kicking himself and beating himself up for letting me walk out. I didn't believe her.

My eyes scanned the shelves of the baking isle. I grabbed two containers of chocolate frosting and put it in the small red basket that was hooked on my arm. I grabbed a bag a flour and placed in the basket as well, careful not to put them on the eggs I had gotten before. Glancing back down at the list, the last thing I needed was a bag of sugar. I walked further down the isle, and scanned the shelves. Of course, it was just my luck that the bag was on the very top shelf. I groaned and placed the basket on the groaned. Muttering about how the universe hates me, I reached up as best I could, and stretched all the way up. No luck. I groaned again and kicked the edge of the bottom shelf angrily. I heard someone clear their throat behind me and when I turned around and saw who it was, I immediately regretted even leaving the house.

Michael stood there, his hands in his jeans pockets. He was wearing a purple plaid button up, a gray beanie pulled over his, now blue, hair. His eyes looked hopeful as he looked at me. However, that hopefulness didn't mask the sadness that tried to hide behind it. He bit his lip and cleared his throat before speaking.

This is too cliche to actually be happening...

"Need some help?" He asked. I nodded blankly, my whole body going numb at the sound of his voice. He reached up and easily grabbed a bag, his shirt riding up a little as he stretched. I watched him as his eyes averted back to my own, handing me the sugar. I took it slowly, bending down and placing it in the basket. Standing back up, I cleared my own throat, trying to find something to say. He looked around, noticing that the isle was empty except for a little old lady who was about ten feet behind him. He then looked back at me and I could tell his brain was running with thoughts at a thousand miles per hour.

"Kleo, I know you hate me right now and you have every right too. I didn't mean what I said. Sleeping with you wasn't a mistake, you know why? Because I realized something. Over the course of this week, I realized how much I missed you. Two days after you stopped speaking to me, I stopped eating. I couldn't sleep at night. I was a mess, I was angry, I had an attitude and the guys could tell something was wrong. Sleeping with you wasn't a mistake because afterwards, I realized that you have been the best thing to ever enter my life." He paused to take a breath and I opened my mouth to respond, my eyes getting slightly watery, but he stopped me. He placed both of his hands on my cheeks and my hands instinctively came up to rest upon his own. My mouth hung open as I continued to watch him ramble, neither of us breaking eye contact.