You're The Reason//Michael Clifford

Seven.

(Chevy's P.O.V.)

I woke up feeling exhausted and restless, which, in my case, was to be expected. I cried myself to sleep after last nights events. All of it was too much for me to take in and I felt like everything was happening all at the same time and it hit me all at once. I really hated the fact that Michael was pissed at me, but what else was I supposed to say to his parents? I panicked.

As much as I protested myself, my body went against me, and I pulled myself out of bed. I walked downstairs to make me a bowl of cereal, like every other day, except this time, my mom sat on a barstool at the island with her nose stuck in the newspaper. I tried my best to sneak by her but I should have known better.

"Are you avoiding me?" I heard my mom, her eyes not moving from the paper. She pushed her glasses up on her nose.

I froze in my spot for a couple of seconds before cautiously moving, "Yes." She looked up from her newspaper and tried to make conversation with me but I turned her down, "Look, Olivia, I don't need your small talk. Thanks for putting forth the effort though," I put my cereal bowl in the sink, grabbing my chocolate milk before heading back upstairs to my room.

I was sitting at my desk, scrolling through pictures of Michael and I throughout the years and I felt a tug at my heart. It was killing me, this not talking to each other thing. I never realized how much I needed him until I couldn't, not having him around was literally killing me.

"Chevrolet," Michael started in on his whining, which was becoming extremely annoying to me and I couldn't help but snap at him, "What? You have said my name for the past few minutes but haven't said any more. So you're either going to tell me what you have to say or you can shut up."

Michael's eyes widened, gaping at me, not knowing what to say at first, "What's crawled up your exhaust pipe?"

I threw my pencil down in pure anger, "Michael, stop. You're being annoying and you are of no help with this homework. I'm on my period, I have cramps, and I have no patience to deal with your shit."

Michael was at a loss for words, which was okay by me, at least he was quiet. He got up, packing up his books and paperwork, "Fine. I'll just leave if you're going to act like this."

"Good, I can't stand to hear the sound of your voice for another second," I muttered under my breath, not really caring if he had heard me or not. Apparently he did. "Piss off," Michael sneered before slamming my bedroom door shut.

That was the cause of our first ever fight, the fight that made us think we were never going to talk to each other again. So what if what I did last night is the deal breaker?

There was a knock at my door and before I could say anything, my mom walks in. I roll my eyes, annoyed, and turned so that my back was facing her. Her voice was soft, "I was wondering if you would like to go do something with me today?"

"No, I'm good." I shrugged off her attempt to plan any sort of activity with me. She spoke up, "I can take you to your favorite ice cream shop." If I had to guess, she was probably smiling. I turned around in my spinning chair and sure enough, she had a hopeful smile. I cleared my throat, "They tore that down about two years ago. It's now a dentist office. But of course you don't know about that."

My mom sighed, "Chevy, I'm trying here. I'm trying to make up for the mistake I made several years ago. Please, spare me a break."

I scoffed, "Are you kidding me? You think what you did was a mistake? I was eight years old when you asked me to help pack your bags. I thought you were going on vacation, so I helped. I even packed me a bag because I thought I would be going with you."

She interrupted me before I could finish everything that I had to say, and things I have been dying to tell her throughout the years, "I had just found out that my husband of over twenty years was having an affair. I didn't want to leave." she tried to defend herself.

I shook my head, disappointed, "But you still left anyway. You even left your eight year-old daughter standing in the middle of the street. You left me in the hands of the devil herself and dad wasn't much better. Do you know how many times I called the police, child protective services, anybody, and begged them to take me away? Do you know the price I had to pay when they showed up and left without me?" I had tears forming in my eyes due to all of this built-up anger she left me with. All of these emotions were surfacing that I shoved deep down inside, memories that I tried so hard to forget.

My mom remained quiet, avoiding any eye contact, but that didn't stop me from watching her flinch at every word I had said. I wasn't even through yet, "Did you even see me chase your car down? Did you hear me screaming for you to wait for me?" She remained motionless, not speaking a single word. I continued on, my voice lighter, "So no, I don't want to go anywhere with you. I don't want to be anywhere around you. I don't want any mother-daughter bullshit. I don't want to see you. I don't even know why you came back, honestly."

I went to walk out of my room, only to stop in my tracks and turn to her one more time, "It's sad that I would rather stay here than to go anywhere with you. Let that sink in."

I jolted down the stairs, grabbing a jacket, and went out the front door to take a walk and praying that my mom was gone by the time I got back.