Decode // Michael Clifford

Chapter 6

A/N: light smut warning for this chapter :——-)

Michael sighed and leaned back into his seat, hands on the steering wheel. He knew it was no use to argue with me - I would simply stop responding if he kept trying. The car ride was entirely silent; he didn’t even try to put on the radio. I was still pissed at him for getting pissed at me, and he was pissed that he’d pissed me off. 

Finally, we pulled up to Michael’s house. I didn’t remember ever discussing where we were going after Ashton’s house, and I had expected him to take me home after our fight, but I didn’t say anything as we exited the car and trudged up the drive to his large house. As we stepped inside and Michael shrugged off his jacket, he suddenly glanced at me. “Shit, I forgot to ask if you wanted to go home.” He began to pull on his jacket again, but I shook my head.

"It’s okay, I’ll stay." 

He paused, a look of surprise flitting across his face. ”Really?” he asked. 

I nodded. The anger I’d felt towards him for doing something so incredibly stupid for me was starting to melt away, replaced by appreciation. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten mad at him in the first place, just like he shouldn’t have gotten mad at me. I wouldn’t ever admit it out loud though, just like he wouldn’t either. Neither of us would apologize, but the unspoken agreement to forget our fight was thick in the air.

"Do you want me to drive you home later?" he asked, hanging his jacket up on the coat rack and reaching to help me out of my own.

I paused, hesitating for a few moments. I knew what I wanted to say, what I wanted to happen. The only question was whether or not my mouth would allow the words to come out. I struggled with myself for several moments, while Michael waited patiently. He had learned to realize when I was struggling to say something, and to wait for me until I was ready to say it.

"No," I finally managed to squeak out. "I can stay the night, if - if you want me to." 

The shock was now prominent in his face, making me shift uncomfortably. I knew he was aware that I needed to take things slow, but I didn’t know I would be met with so much incredulity when I suggested spending the night. “Forget I said anything,” I muttered. “You can just bring me home.”

"No! No, babe, I’m sorry," Michael said, finally snapping out of it. "I’m just - I’m just surprised. I want you to stay." 

I bit my lip, finally lifting my eyes to meet his pale green ones. “Are you sure?” I asked, nervous.

Michael grinned and nodded.

“Okay. I’m just gonna call my mom, then.” Michael nodded and kissed my cheek before mumbling about going to wash the blood off his face. He disappeared down the hallway and I trailed into the large living room, sinking down onto the couch. I pulled out my phone and dialed my house.

“Quinn?” my mom answered on the second ring. “Where have you been? I thought you were taking the bus home today.”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see. “No, I told you Michael was picking me up after school and that we’d probably hang out.” I paused, shifting uncomfortably. My mother may be weak-spined and needy, but I still didn’t like lying to her. “I think I’m going to have him drop me off at Haley’s to stay the night since break just started.” I was careful not to stutter or say “um” while I explained, or she’d know I was lying. It was a good thing this was over the phone, because I was a terrible liar in person.

“Oh. Are you sure you don’t just want to come home?”

I hid a sigh, angling the phone away from my face for a moment. She’d always been like this, ever since my father left when I was nine. I was the only one she had left, really. She never remarried or had other kids, it was just me. She never liked for me to be out too long—not because she was worried about my safety, but more because she was worried I wouldn’t come back. “Yeah, I’ll be home tomorrow, okay?” I said into the phone, bringing to back to my face.