Part Five

                                    

                                          
Michael's P.O.V.
I woke up with a start as I fell off the couch.
"Ouch," I winced, rubbing my neck, sitting up. I looked around me, avoiding the window and the light that passes through it. What the hell happened last night? I thought.
Feeling a little tired, I stood up and headed to the kitchen to fetch some water. I stopped by the door, confused and curious as I heard voices.
"I don't even give a damn," she said. "If he finds out then so be it."
"Are you sure about that?" A familiar voice asked.
"Jack?" I muttered, asking myself. What the fuck are they talking about? I thought.
"I am," she said as I slowly and quietly stepped inside that they weren't even aware of my presence. She was by the sink, washing some plates. And, sat on one of the stools with his back on me was Jack, watching her with lust. "Besides, he won't know anything. He doesn't have to know at all."
"Know what?" I started, my voice a little louder, as they both looked at me.
"I," she muttered, looking from me to Jack then back to me.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, eyeing her. Then I looked at Jack. He's a good friend of ours. But. Something about him makes me wanna punch him right in face. "And why is he here?"
"It's," she continued. "He was worried that you'd get mad that he's here when I told you it's just me and Sophia that's coming over last night."
I looked at him, waiting for him to say something. He shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much that's it."
"So, where's Sophia then?" I asked the obvious question as there is no blonde curly haired girl in the room.
"She left early," she said, as I looked back at her. She's tensed, I can see it. No, she's telling the truth, I tried to tell myself. "She has a class."
But.
There's something wrong.
"It's Saturday," I reminded her. "And I haven't heard her walked out of the house."
"You were out," she said in a duh tone, rolling her eyes.
"I was sleeping on the couch," I snapped. As much as I don't wanna do another round of nonsense fight with her in front of John, I just lost it. I added, "I was here. Early. Sleeping. But no such sound of anyone leaving early."
She's lying, I know.
"You went out last night without saying a word and even left your phone," she said sarcastically. "Where the hell did you went that you don't wanna get caught, ei? You went home this morning! I haven't realized you were here already!"
"Well, I did, okay?" I shouted, feeling my insides burning with anger. Don't, I thought, control it. "But don't push and blame it on me! Maybe I went home late but I was on the couch the whole time and not one sound did I heard someone opened the damn noisy door! This is my house! I know what sound that door does!"
"Michael Gordon Clifford!" She yelled, glaring at me.
"Whatever," I shrugged. "You know what, I'm out. Do whatever you want but I don't wanna see this fucking guy when I get back or I don't fucking know what I might fucking do with him!"
Without waiting for another word, I turned on my heel, getting the keys in the bowl on my way out. I slammed the door as hard as I can, feeding it my anger before I headed to the car. As I was about to open the door, a car approached, honking. Catching my attention, I turned my gaze to where the sound came from and had locked eyes with the familiar brown eyed boy.
"It can't be," I muttered, as he smiled at me.