*Sniffle* Ok now that I've gotten over the weekend long cry-fest I had from the last chapter, time for some comedy, and a little danger.
I don't remember how long it was until I realized that that was the first time I ever truly cried in a year. I was shocked I had kept my feelings in for that long, oh well, fast forward to after breakfast.
After putting on something decent, I looked in my bag and grabbed one of my most prized possessions, a custom made Rebel archery bow. I carried it everywhere with me, even to work. I started to look outside, imaging a target range outside. I raised the bow up to my shoulder and closed my right eye for accuracy. I pulled the string back, holding an imaginary arrow with my fingertips. I lined it up with the center of the target and was preparing to pull back when …
"April!"
The outburst startled me and caused me to release the bowstring with a lot of force, making it snap back and hit me square across the nose. Reflexively, I put both of my hands up to cover the stinging body part. Yeah, I know, ow! I turned around to see who to kill for scaring the bejesus out of me, and relaxed when I recognized it was Michael. He looked shocked to see me, or more likely, what was in my hand. I quickly put the bow down as I waved him in. He looked at me, then at the bow, then back at me. It took a good 2 minutes before he said something.
"What is that?"
"A bow?" said I, not quite knowing what he was asking.
"Yeah, I know that, but what is it doing in here?"
"It was in my bag, I always carry it," I noticed the worried look on his face as he glanced over at the bag. "Don't worry, I don't have any arrows."
I saw him relax after I said that. He walked over to the bed and looked at it more intently. He eyes darted as he took in the delicate artistry of the riser. He looked back up at me with a more amused look on his face.
"So, why do you carry it around?"
I felt a lump in my throat as he asked. I sighed, twirling my hair with my finger.
"It was the last present Mother ever gave me. I had just made the archery team in high school, so she gave me that so I could practice."
"Oh…," He looked back down and snapped his head up again. "Wait, weren't you only…"
"Nine?" I said completing his sentence. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I skipped five grades, and also graduated before I was even a teen. I don't know how, but I think it is just a combination of gifts and a knack for test taking." (A/N: Awkward!)
He looked at me with wide eyes. I guessed all of that information from an 18 year old would be kind of shocking. He snapped himself out of it as he looked back at the bow and changed the subject.
"So, how did you do, in the archery tournament?"
I blushed a little as I remembered my past life.
"Ok, I guess. We won." I looked at the window, not wanting to go any further in this awkward conversation. "Um, did you come up here for something?"
"Oh, yeah. Diana wanted you."
"Ok, I'm coming down." And he left, leaving me to put my bow back in my bag.
I came down to see my brother and all of the Jacksons sitting around the main room, discussing whatever. (I didn't really pay that much attention to it.) I sat near Travis as he was telling Michael that I could describe his personality. Michael laughed as he shook his head.
"Bet she can't."
Me, being one not to back down from a challenge, took him on.
"Alright Michael; you're kooky, fun, kind, sweet, a perfectionist, (He nodded as he heard all of these before), a tad impatient, a little shy, (he blushed), and deceivingly… vain." The rest of the Jackson clan burst out laughing when I said he was vain. Michael, on the other hand, looked like I had just slapped him.
"I'm what!"
"Vain. Michael, you can't take five steps into a room without noticing some portrait or picture of you"
"I. Am. Not. Vain." He said in a somewhat serious, but giggly voice.
'Yeah you are.' (Everyone backed me up)
Michael looked super shocked at the fact that everyone agreed with me, even Diana. "Oh, so that's what all of you think, huh?" he asked in a very defensive way.
Janet answered this by patting him on the shoulder and shook her head.
"Michael, we don't think, we know."
Michael just folded his arms and pouted, like a seven year old who was told that he couldn't have his favorite candy.
"I'm not vain" he mumbled.
I just shrugged my shoulders and looked towards Tito, who was sitting with his sons; Taj, Tarryl, and TJ.
Taj just smiled at me and I smiled back. I looked back at Michael, who was still pouting.
"Whatever you say, apple head."
"What!"
"Nothing."
Later that night, Michael looked into the mirror and turned to his ever loving, ever honest wife and said:
"My head doesn't look like an apple, does it?"
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