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MICHAEL almost didn't believe what Coraline was asking.
"I know it's super last minute," she apologized, pressing her back against her closet door. "But my school's Winter Ball is next week and I can't just show up without a date. I've been banking on this dance since senior year started as a way to secure my position as a possible prom queen." Pushing herself off the door, Coraline rubbed her hands together nervously. "I need to graduate this school as a somebody, Michael, which means planning ahead to win prom queen. I won't let all these people remember me as a psycho. I just won't."
He sat on her green comforter and looked to his hands. Her reasons seemed justified, in a true Coraline fashion. He knew that she was kind and didn't judge others anymore, but this was one of those moments when she decided to be superficial. He didn't hate her for it – in fact, he admired that she was so determined to gain power again. He just hoped they didn't lose each other in the process.
"Are you sure you want me to go with you?" Michael asked, quirking a brow upward. "If this ... Winter Ball is so important, isn't it a bad idea to bring the town's local Satanist?"
Coraline smirked, walking forward and clutching his large hand. Her fingers curled over his own while her thumb caressed his palm, allowing her icy temperature to meet his warmth. "Fuck 'em," she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips against his own, but refusing to seal it.
Michael liked kissing Coraline – he really liked it. It sent his blood pumping and made every hair on his arm stand up. And when she baited him with a kiss, it made him annoyed. He watched her lean away with a frown. He had never wanted to kiss anyone before, but her cherry lip gloss always tasted really sweet and he liked the way she made butterflies invade his stomach.
"You look nervous," she glowered. "It doesn't bother me if someone recognizes you. As long as I'm there and showing myself off, I won't let anyone give you shit." He was still frowning towards her, causing her to sigh. "If you're that anxious about someone noticing you, why don't you just wear a disguise?"
Michael's jaw shifted. "A disguise?"
"C'mon," she said, pulling him to his feet. Coraline shoved him down in the seat in front of her lit-up vanity mirror. "You already wear all black, and I'm guessing you would be doing the same for the dance. So why not make you look like – uh – I don't know ... an extra member of My Chemical Romance?"
He narrowed his eyes with confusion as she searched through the makeup covering her vanity. Sifting through eyeshadow palettes, she found the big one that she was looking for, and noticed his perplexed expression when she turned. "Just go with it," she scoffed.
Michael looked down at the warm-colored shadows pressed into the palette. They were both eyeing the same shade in particular. Their stares met, and Coraline smirked. "You like the red?" He nodded at her question, and she dipped her finger into the shadow. Normally, she would grab a brush, but couldn't find her case at the moment. Bright pigment covered her finger as she reached forward, smudging the red in the inner corners of his eyes. Michael twitched slightly.
