Imagines and One-Shots (Book Two)

Lie to Me (Michael Clifford) - Part 1

Michael dealt with his harsh reality – seeing you around school, hanging around the popular kids while he sat by himself most days, knowing he could never tell you how he felt about you.

He could never tell you that the only reason he could bear to go to school anymore was because of the fifth period P.E. class he got to spend with you. He could never tell you that he was surprised to see you on the first day of the semester sitting in the bleachers looking dead as you waited for the class period to start. He could never tell you that he didn't know what came over him when he sat down beside you and asked if you were alright. He could never tell you that the way you smiled at him when you told him you were just tired made his stomach do flips and his heart race. He could never tell you that after that day, when you continued to talk to him and volunteered to be his partner during every group activity, he knew – he just knew – that he was going to end up falling for you.

But then again... Maybe he could.

And that was exactly what he did.

It hadn't been at school when he told you – far too scared to approach you since you never seemed to be alone anywhere other than gym. It hadn't been at the mall when he would see you shopping with your mom on the weekends just to see what was new in your favorite stores. It hadn't been any of the places he thought he would admit his feelings toward you.

It had been at the county fair – the last place he ever expected to see you alone – while you were trying to win a stuffed (favorite animal) at the water-gun game. Michael watched you for probably 10 minutes, forking over ticket after ticket trying to win. He watched you hand the guy your last ticket and when you lost that round, the breath of defeat you let out was enough to make him walk over to you.

You were about to stand up – tired and ultimately disappointed in yourself that you couldn't win such a stupid game – when you felt hands on your shoulders, pushing you back down. You looked up as Michael handed the guy a ticket of his own – his last one, in fact – and wrapped his arms around you, holding onto the little toy gun while other players sat down to play.

"Don't tell me you're one of those guys who sits around watching a girl make a fool of herself and then magically appears when she's ready to give up," you stated, making him chuckle lowly.

"No – just you," Michael told you, his mouth so close to ear that you could feel his breath, "But I'm gonna let you in on a little secret." He leaned down so that no one else would be able to hear him. "You line up your shot and start squeezing the trigger before the bell goes off," he told you.

To prove his point, he did exactly that – lining up his shot and squeezing the trigger right before the bell rang. You watched the balloon get bigger and bigger until it finally popped. You turned your neck so you could look at him, a dumbfounded grin on your face.

"So what?" you asked, "You one of those guys who researches how to win carnival games online to impress girls?" Michael simply smiled, pointed to something behind you, and thanked the guy when he handed it to him.

"No," he replied, "Just you." He handed you your favorite animal and you looked at him again.

"How did you know this was what I was trying to win?" Michael held his hand out to you and you took it without second thought. He pulled you up to let someone else play the game, reluctantly letting go of your hand as you started walking.

"Saw you stare longingly at it every time you lost as if you were reminding yourself what you came here to win," he teased. You shoved his arm as you laughed loudly.

"Thanks," you grinned, "I think I'm gonna name him Mikey in your honor."

Michael blushed lightly, but you were too busy admiring your new stuffed animal to notice. It was his turn to shove you playfully, making you giggle again.

"So did you come here with friends or are you stalking me?" you joked.

"Oh, I've been stalking you for a while," he nodded, "Thought you would have figured that out by now. You didn't think it was a coincidence that I always seem to be in the same places as you, did you?"

"I've had my suspicions," you replied, leaning on his arm slightly.

"What about you?" he asked, "Where are all of your friends?"

"You know that party Dylan Gibson has been talking up all week?" Michael obviously nodded – he couldn't go a single class period without hearing about it. "They all went to that," you said with a small sigh.

"Why didn't you go?"

"Wasn't invited," you mumbled, "Dylan's still pissed that I said no to going on a date with him freshman year, so he made sure to tell everyone to remind me that he was going to make sure I wouldn't be able to get in even if I did decide to show up."

"What a dick," Michael said under his breath, making you smile again.

"It's alright, I guess," you shrugged, "I'd rather be here alone than at a party with hundreds of drunk morons anyway."

"Oh, well, if you'd rather be alone..." he trailed off, but you could tell his tone was mocking you. He stepped away, but you grabbed his elbow as you laughed, bringing him back to you and wrapping your arm around his.

"I'm glad you came over, Mikey," you said, "It's nice to see you outside of a class where I sweat profusely." Michael laughed at the comment, but blushed again at the nickname. "We should do this more," you murmured thoughtfully, "Hang out outside of school, I mean."

"You'd want to do that?" he asked softly.

"Why wouldn't I?" you furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head to look up at him.

"I don't know, I just... You're really... You know... And I'm just a..."

"I'm really what?" you asked quietly, your grip on him loosening.

"Beautiful," he said so softly, you barely heard it, "And popular... And I'm just... I'm just trying to make it through the school week without getting shoved into shit every day." You were silent for a moment, your heart fluttering at what he'd just told you.

"You think I'm beautiful?" you looked up at him. He let out a quiet sigh and looked down at his feet.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he admitted, "And I've been trying to make myself brave enough to tell you that and ask you on a date, but I could never work up the courage because you're just... You're way out of my league and I-"

You cut him off by stopping right in the middle of the path you were on, moving in front of him, and standing up slightly on your toes, pressing your lips to his. You felt Michael's breath hitch before he sighed again, his hands finding your hips as he kissed you back.

You pulled away, but your noses were still touching, and let out a nervous laugh.

"Sorry," you said, "I've been wanting to do that for a while now."

"You have?" his eyes widened a bit. You shrugged bashfully.

"And if you ever wanna ask me out on a date..." you trailed off.

"We-" He cleared his throat. "-We could make this a date..."

"If you want to make this a date, you're gonna have to buy me a funnel cake first."

"I can do that," he laughed, kissing your cheek before moving away completely. His hand slipped down to yours so he could tangle your fingers together, tugging you to the area where all the food was.

~

inspiration: http://illicithemmings.tumblr.com/post/148473919763/confessions-of-a-wallflower-michael-clifford