THAT 70S SHOW ★
Lola Kelso has grown up with the gang and her two protective older brothers, with her best friend Donna who has been there for her throughout everything. With mixed feelings, heartbreak and fights, Lola can't imagine being anywhere e...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
10.23 AM
I lean back against my headboard, closing my eyes as Michael's music fills through the house. Ever since I got home yesterday I couldn't take my mind off of the whole incident in the car with Hyde, and how much I wanted to kick Katie in the face. She was permanently round our house with Casey, giggling at an incredibly unnecessary volume and she never cared to speak to me or even Michael for the matter, so the fact that she decided to interrupt yesterday just fuelled my spite even further. I doubt she even knew my name.
When I got inside yesterday Casey wasn't even aware I was home, and said he hadn't told Katie to get me inside. He told me she was 'checking to see if it was the cat from next door was making all the noise', even though I'm not quite sure how a car engine sounds even remotely similar to a freaking cat.
Michael comes bursting through my door, taking the thought of yesterday out of my mind. I open my eyes and turn to look at him, waiting for whatever it was he had to barge into my room to say.
"Do you know where my David Bowie pants are?" He asks frantically, storming further into my room and ripping opening my closet doors. I watch as he flicks through all my clothes, opening the drawers and rummaging through everything roughly.
"Michael, do we look like we are the same size? Why would I take your pants?" I question, not moving from my spot because they were obviously not in my closet, out of all places.
He turns to look at me with his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed. "I know you told Jackie you like red pants. So you stole mine, didn't you!" He raises his voice childishly, earning an eye roll from me.
"Michael, shut up. And stop listening to my conversations." I get up from the bed and roll my eyes, walking into his room as he follows behind quickly.
I ignore the stench of cologne and endless pairs of jeans and pants all over the floor, stepping over a pile of pink panties in front of his closet.
"I don't even want to know who those all belong to." I cringe, pulling open the doors and spotting the red pants straight away.
"Are you talking about these?" I pull them out from underneath his pile of other pants, turning to give him a flat look.
He looks down at me sheepishly and I couldn't tell if he was actually serious or not. He takes the pants from me, giving me a quiet thank you as I leave his room and walk into the kitchen, shaking my head.
