Old Me

Mikey's POV Ch 60

I closed my eyes in anger and kicked over a cardboard box that was lying on the ground.

"Fuck!" 

I was seething. I knew that if I didn't get the hell out of that parking lot I would do something that I would regret, like walk back to the apartment and beat the hell out of my dad.

What the hell are you doing, Michael? You need to go make sure she's okay. You can't just leave her.

I climbed into my car and raced through the parking lot. When I reached the exit gates I saw her stepping into a car. I put my car in park and jumped out, not caring that I was blocking the road.

"Bea, please!" she slammed the door on me, "Where are you going? I can drive you home, let's talk...please!" I pleaded as I tapped on the window.

She wouldn't look at me, and I could see that tears were falling down her face. The car pulled away from the curb and I raked my hands through my hair angrily.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" 

I ran back to my car and slammed the door. I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. So I texted her. Then called her again. And again. I just needed to hear her voice. I just needed to tell her I was sorry. But suddenly the phone line repeated an automated message that the number was not taking calls at this time. I was confused so I sent her another text. I waited, but it never got delivered. Fuck. She's blocked my number. 

I plugged in my phone and let the music fuel my anger as I began to drive. I tried as hard as I could to push the thoughts out my head telling me what a shit person I was and how I deserved all of this.

I was on autopilot. I didn't realize where I was driving until I was turning onto the street. I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. I was so angry that I slammed my hand against the steering wheel repeatedly, accidentally blaring the horn in the process, despite the pain it was causing me. You don't deserve to feel anything else. Fuck, I just want to hit someone. I wish I could beat myself up. Better yet, can someone just run me over?

I was startled by the tapping on my window but relaxed when I recognized the familiar smile. 

I turned down my music and opened my door.

"Hey, what's going on?" Mr. Hood asked.

I shook my head, clenching my jaw as I struggled not to cry.

"I really fucked up," I said through gritted teeth, digging my nails into the palms of my hands.

"Okay," he said slowly as he nodded, "What'd you do?"

I groaned in frustration as I slammed my fist on the hood of my car. 

"I fucked things up so bad." I bit my lip, screaming at myself internally, "She's never going to talk to me again."

"You mean, Bea?" he asked.

"Yes! Bea!" I shouted, aware that I was being a dick, "I fucking...I didn't tell her about me, about being in juvie, about what I did. And...and she found out thanks to my waste of space father."

"Michael maybe she just needs some space. Some time to cool off," he said.

"No!" I shouted my voice cracking as I felt my chest tightening with the urge to cry, "You didn't see her face. It was...it was like she was afraid of me. And I hurt her."

I couldn't handle the building pressure in my chest anymore and I wrapped my arms around him, gripping his shirt as I let myself sob. He patted my back and let me cry for a moment before speaking.