Bad News | Punk Michael Clifford

seven

"Thanks, Luke." I said as we approached my front door.

"Anytime." Luke replied, kissing my forehead briefly before heading off for his meeting. I didn't know what his meeting was about, but I wasn't too worried about it. After all, why should I be? We weren't actually a couple or anything. He was probably just meeting with a friend.

I had just walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water when there was a knock on the door. I assumed it was just Luke forgeting to ask about something.

I opened the door and was surprised to come face to face with Michael.

"Michael? What are you doing here? How did you figure out where I lived?" I asked in more disbelief than anger. I had barely even met him, and yet he already knew where I lived.

"That's not important right now." He pushed through me and into the house.

I shut the door and looked at Michael with obvious confusion. In one swift movement, he had me pinned against the door. Then his lips were on mine. I completely forgot about everything else and kissed him back. His hands moved from the door behind me to my waist, deepening the kiss. I brought my hands up and tangled my fingers into his hair. I felt his lips trail down my jawline and attach to my neck. His hands grabbed the back of my thighs urging me to jump. So I did. I wrapped my legs around him and let him continue his work on my neck.

Next, we were moving upstairs. Somehow Michael found the door to my room. He threw it open then slammed it closed behind us. I was aware of where this was headed, but it felt too good, and I wasn't ready for it to stop.

Michael laid me on the bed and reattached his lips to mine. I opened my mouth slightly, giving his tongue access to explore my mouth. Pretty soon I felt his cool fingers underneath my shirt. I gave in and let him pull my shirt over my head. He wasted no time in trailing his lips down my chest. I knew for sure that there'd be a few marks.

I was so mesmerized by his mouth that I was only brought back to reality when I felt a finger slip below the waistband of my shorts.

"Michael..." I didn't mean for it to come out as a moan, but it did. So he continued kissing me.

"Michael...stop." I spoke more sternly this time and pulled away.

Michael looked up at me with a pout.

"Why?" He whined. It was obvious that he was feeling pretty needy.

"I don't know you, and I-I..." I trailed off. I didn't really want to confess to him that I was a virgin. As attractive as he was, I wasn't ready to give away my virginity just yet.

"We can change that." He spoke sweetly now, and didn't sound like the needy teenage boy he had moments before.

"Okay." I agreed and reached for my shirt that had previously been thrown to the side.

"So tell me about yourself." Michael asked, helping me to sit up in front of him.

"Well, my name is Alyx Grace Harper. I moved here from America a week ago. I'm 16 years old." I wasn't sure what else to say. I always became super awkward when that question came up just because it's such a broad topic. And I wasn't sure exactly what Michael wanted to know.

"Whoa whoa whoa." Michael interrupted. "You're only 16!?"

"Yeah..." I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It's not like he was that much older than me, but I'm still awkward.

"I didn't think you were that young..."

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"No, no. It's okay. I just- it's probably best that you stopped me. I mean- you're just- and I don't- it probably shouldn't- I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just that- Oh jeez this is awkward." Michael stumbled over his words, nervously taking his fingers through his brightly colored green hair.

I didn't really know what to say at this point. It was just awkward silence. So I just fiddled with the hem of my shorts.

"So um. Tell me about yourself?" I said more as a question. I just wanted to get rid of the silence.

"My name is Michael Gordon Clifford. I'm 19 years old. And I've lived in Australia my entire life. I dropped out of school a few years ago after my parents kicked me out. I was quite the troublemaker." He suddenly became more confident and leaned back against the pillows and put his arms behind his head, making himself comfortable.

I probably should have asked about what kind of trouble it was that he had gotten into, and I was about to ask, but I was more interested in the ink that was peeking out from his sleeve.

"What does your tattoo say?" I asked.

"To the moon." He pushed his sleeve back to give me a clearer a view. I don't know what it was, but I had a thing for guys with tattoos. I started to trace the curves of the letters with my finger. Michael shivered at the contact.

"I'm hungry," Michael said suddenly sitting up, "why don't we order a pizza."

"Sure." I said becoming aware of the small grumbling sensation in my stomach.

A half hour later, Michael and I were sitting at my kitchen table eating pizza and laughing at some lame joke that Michael told.

Once we were full, I guided Michael to the couch in the living room where we searched for a movie to watch. At about an hour into the movie, I started drifting off to sleep. Michael must have thought that I was completely asleep because I felt him kiss my forehead and whisper "goodnight beautiful." A small smile crept to my lips, and then I let my tiredness take over.