Ugly : clifford a.u

Michael

Exactly Two hours and thirty minutes later, my phone rang.

Smirking, I rose from the couch where Maggie and I were watching our second Barbie movie and pressing my phone to my ear, moved out of the room.

“Hello.” I greeted.

“Michael?” an all too familiar voice asked.

Pleased with myself, I felt along the wall, tripping over Maggie’s crap several times, before reaching my room and flopping down on the bed.

“May I ask who’s calling?” I questioned.

“It’s Spencer.” She snapped.

“Oh, hey.” I greeted, as if I hadn’t known it was her all along, “I knew you’d call.”

“You gave me your library card and your inhaler you idiot, I didn’t really have much choice did I?”

“You didn’t have to call me.” I replied, “You could have left me to suffocate, writhing around while my lungs shriveled up like prunes.”

“That’s not funny you bone head.” She snapped, “It’s weird, and creepy.”

“But I’m blind.”

“That’s not an excuse to act like a total weirdo!”

“Why because I’m blind. That’s a cruddy thing to say Spencer. Using my disability against me like that.”

“Oh my God!” she laughed, “You are insane. You’re insane!”

“I believe the politically correct term is mentally unstable.” I replied.

“How do you want me to get your stuff back to you?” she demanded.

“I could come get it.” I offered.

“No.” she snapped, “There’s no way in heck I’m telling you where I live.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know you.”

“I thought we already went over this. I’m Michael. I’m blind, and now you know that I’m asthmatic and have several late DVDs due on my library card.”

“You’re not coming to my house.”

Sighing, I propped myself up on my elbow, “Why don’t you bring it to my house then?”

“No way.” She replied.

“Why not?” I whined.

“Because.” She answered, “I don’t trust you as far as I can see you.”

“Really?” I sighed, “Is that your idea of funny? Rubbing your sight seeing ability in my face.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She said quickly.

Smirking, I pulled at the skin on my lips, “If I’m not allowed to go to your house and you refuse to come to mine, how you propose you return you return my stolen possessions.”

“What?” she gasped, “I didn’t steal them, you gave them to me!”

“Are you listening to yourself.” I replied, “Why would I give you my inhaler? I kind of need it to breathe.”

“Because you’re an idiot.” She spluttered, “I don’t know.”

Smiling to myself, I sat up, “Why don’t you meet me somewhere.”

“Where?” she asked slowly.

“Peggy’s Pizza.” I answered automatically.

“Fine.” She grumbled, “What time?”

“What time is it now?” I questioned.

“Noon.” She sighed.

“Great.” I replied, “I’ll meet you there at six. Where something nice.”

“What?” she demanded.

“See you then babe.”

“I’m not your babe.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“You’re not right in the head.”

“I know. My eyes don’t work.”

Sighing, she muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” I aksed.

“Nothing.” She snapped, “I’ll be there at six.”

“Great,” I replied, “It’s a date.”

“It’s not a da…”

Ignoring her, I ended the call, unable to stop the smile creeping across my face.