Cat and Mouse | m.c.

chapter 1

 Chapter 1

They were sitting in the car, her parents in the front seat, her dad driving, and her in the backseat. Her hands folded around the edge of her music book, the book torn and filled with dog-eared pages. Disappointment was spread on her mother’s face and evidently, there was some on her father’s too. 

"Today just wasn’t your day." Her mother said. 

Mouse looked out at the window, rain dropping onto and sliding down the glass.  

"How do you think you’re going to get into Julliard if you don’t get it perfect every single time? Can you honestly expect them to pass you with this kind of playing?"

 Mouse stayed quiet.  

"Honey, calm down. She has a few more months before she auditions. She’ll get it back up in no time." Her father, always the more relaxed parent, tried to reassure his wife.   

Her mother took a few deep breaths. “Think about this, Mouse, okay? You’ve been playing for more than twelve years already. If you don’t get into Julliard, all of that? It’s going to be wasted. From now on, until after your Julliard audition, you don’t get to go anywhere except for school and to your piano lessons from which you will go straight home.”  

Mouse stayed quiet and nodded. Satisfied at her response, her mother turned on the radio. 

"Honey? Gas is running low. We better stop at the gas station."  

"I thought I told you to fill it up yesterday so we wouldn’t have to stop by." Her mother looked at Mouse’s father, exasperated.   

"I forgot."  

Her mother sighed, placing her hand to her forehead like she couldn’t believe she dealt with this all the time. “Just get the gas, Andrew.” 

They stopped by at the gas station, a few miles south. Mouse pushed herself out of the car like usual, grasping in her hand the bit of cash her mom gave her to give to the cashier. She was wearing her favorite baby blue recital dress. It was strapless but she wore a cardigan over it, just enough to keep her shielded from the cold. 

It was still raining but not as much as it was earlier. She could survive a few droplets. Her dress was going to be an obvious casualty in the battle against the rain but most likely, she was going to have to throw it away when she got home anyways. She didn’t want another reminder of her failed performance. 

Mouse ran into the store, the doorbell chiming when she entered. No one behind the counter. “Any workers here?” She called out. 

“The guy’s outside helping someone with their gas, he’s coming back soon.” A smooth voice coming from behind startled her. Turning around to look at the owner of the voice, Mouse saw that it was a familiar boy who looked her age, fiery red hair flying in all directions and pretty green eyes were his trademark looks. He was leaning against the wall, barely fitting his larger frame between the newspaper stand and the counter. Something clicked and Mouse reveled in the remembrance of his name. 

The boy who sits in the back of her English class. The boy with the dyed hair. The boy who sent Johnny into the hospital last year. Michael Clifford.  

Everyone in this town knew who Michael Clifford was. He was the kind of person you had the common sense to stay away from. His hair was dyed too many times with too many colors and his name could fill a book with the too many times it was printed in the newspaper. So many rumors circulated around him that nobody knew what was true or false anymore. That’s how he became what he was, an enigma.