Behave my ass.

"No way," I said, pointing at Michael. "Not you again." Zane and my mother exchanged confused glances.

"You know each other?" Zane asked, looking to Michael. He smirked. Oh crap.

"Yeah, we just had a wonderful chat in my bedroom." I growled. No joke, I flat out growled. Gritted teeth and everything.

"Why did you have to say that?" I asked, exasperated. From the look on my mom's face, she had the perfect leverage over me now. She'd be able to hold this over my head forever, twisting me into doing what she wanted. And it was Michael's fault.

"Good," Zane said slowly, looking between the two of us. He looked concerned, no doubt because I was glaring daggers at his son and Michael stared at me like I was the most amusing thing in the world.

"Now, Charlotte, about the wedding," Zane continued. Michael smirked. That did it, I had had enough.

"You all are insane." Looking between the three of them, I started backing up, hopefully toward the door.

"Charlotte," my mom started, anger in her eyes. I didn't stick around to let her finish. More than likely she was going to use the bedroom thing against me. I hated her, I hated this house, I hated Zane and I definitely hated Michael.

Chucking the stupid stilettos across the floor, I flat out sprinted to the front door, passing muscle man and out into the fresh night air. I had had enough of my mom and her party. And a wedding? Not just a wedding, my wedding? I don't think so. Where in the parenting handbook does it say that my mom can sell me off? It isn't the old days anymore. She is crazy, this place is crazy.

"Two more weeks," I breathed, racing down the street, rocks pressing into my bare feet. "Two more weeks and I'm eighteen. I just have to run away until then. No more Liz, no more thoughts of marriage, no more Michael…"

I wasn't paying very close attention to where I was going or I just couldn't see in the dark, but either way a figure suddenly loomed in front of me. The collision felt like I had thrown myself into a something harder than a brick wall. I fell to the ground, slamming my head against the concrete. The pain lancing through my head dazed me, confusing me so much so that I started wondering if there was anything harder than a brick wall.

That didn't last long.

"What the hell!" I yelled, looking up. It was Michael. He stood looking down at me in amusement. This guy must have some serious issues. First he asks if he can ask a question and now he finds me amusing. I had met many weird people in my life, but dude, he was the weirdest.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, rubbing my head with my hand. I shook concrete rocks from my hair. We were still more or less in the middle of the street, though thankfully there weren't any cars.

We stared at each other, neither speaking. Honestly, if it weren't for the marriage thing, I really wouldn't have a problem with him. He was gorgeous! If only he'd move a little closer…

Stop it! What is wrong me? First in the room and now here...

"What do you want?" I asked, breaking the silence. Surprisingly it hadn't been awkward, more like we were examining each other. Thanks to living with my mother for the past seventeen years, I was pretty much studying him for weaknesses. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was too encompassed in shadow.

Michael smiled. Great, so I still amused him.

"What's so funny asshole?" I asked, getting to my feet. He offered his hand, but I ignored it. Picking myself up came naturally. I didn't need him.

Once on my feet, I realized my knees were stinging, no doubt from road rash. It was going to be loads of fun changing clothes later.

"You amuse me," he said withdrawing his hand.

"You're a freak," I said, dusting off my butt. God, concrete chips get everywhere! Looking at Michael more closely, I noticed his body shaking. Was he…

"Are you laughing?" I shouted, outraged. "You're the reason I fell! It's not like I fall down on my own you jerk! You're the reason I was the on the ground."

"That's not it," he gasped. He was laughing really hard now.

"Then what is it?" I asked, hands on my hips. I was getting really pissed off. If he didn't stop laughing he was going to get a fist upside the face. As if reading my mind, he immediately stopped. It was as if he hadn't been laughing at all. Wow.

"I was laughing at you calling me a freak," he said calmly and seriously. "You have no idea how much of a freak I am." He smiled again. "Now Charlotte, I believe we should return to the party. No doubt our parents are upset with our behavior."

"Your behavior? What did you do?"

"I ran after you of course," he answered with a smirk. "Meaning we both left our engagement party."

"Our what?" I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "Michael," I started, "you know, this marriage thing probably isn't going to work out. See, you don't know me. You think my behavior is just the crap I pull around Liz, but you're wrong." I smiled, pointing down at my bedraggled appearance. My hair had become tangled while running, my knees had begun bleeding through my pants, and my feet were torn up.

"Though you find me 'amusing' now, I promise you, you will want to kill me in two days time." I finished. His expression hadn't changed, but he was nodding his head.

"We'll see," he said once more offering his hand. "Shall we?"

"Hell no!" I said, taking one step back. "I am not going back there. The only way you'd get me back there is to drag my cold dead body back, and even then with a large tree wrapped in my arms."

"Then where do you want to go?"

"Uh… Far away from you?" Damn! He's smiling again.

"You don't like me then?" he said. It wasn't a question. I narrowed my eyes.

"Not exactly," I started.

BEEEEEEEEEEEP! You stupid kids get out of the middle of the damn road! Headlights swept across us, bathing us in light.

"Make me you asshole!" I screamed back, flipping him off. Laughing, Michael grabbed my arm and dragged me to the sidewalk, the car screeching past, leaving tread marks on the road.

I yanked my arm from his grasp.

"I can take care of myself," I fumed, walking away from the house and my mother. "I don't need you."

"I can see that," he stated, keeping pace with me down the street. "And I realize that it is not you that needs me, but I who needs you."

That floored me. What was he talking about?

"Why do you need me?" I asked. We reached the corner and I took a seat on the curb, Michael following suit.

"Because," he said looking across the street. "If you won't marry me, I have to marry Beatrice."

"Who's that?"

"The bitch from hell," he hissed with a visible shudder. I laughed out loud.

"So you only want to marry me because I am the better of the two options?" I breathed while gasping for air. Why I was laughing this hard, I didn't know. It really wasn't that funny.

"Honestly, I don't want to marry either of you," he growled, giving me a strange look. "And I have to obey my father until I turn eighteen. In six weeks and four days I won't have to listen to him anymore. But, as you can see, that is after the scheduled wedding date."

"Ah, don't worry. I turn eighteen in two weeks," I said giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Really?" he asked, examining my face. He eyes glistened evilly. Ooh he had a plan!

"You know what? Let's make a deal. Let's pretend we're getting married up until the wedding. You know, placate the folks. And once the wedding finally comes, I'll call the whole thing off. It won't give my father enough time to schedule another wedding before I turn eighteen and you'll already be eighteen so your mother can't force you into it anymore. We both end up free and single. What do you say?"

"You know," I said thinking it through, "that isn't a bad idea. So, what, we pretend to be engaged and at the last minute call the whole thing off?"

"Exactly."

"Alright, I'm in," I said, offering my hand. He shook it with a smile.

"Now," he said. "According to the plan, you and I have to return to the party."

"Great," I shuddered, making him laugh again.

"It's just six weeks," he reminded me, standing and offering to help me up. I refused. No shocker there.

"I know," I sighed, getting to my feet. "But it will be the six weeks from hell."

"There you go! Just keep thinking those positive thoughts."

"Did you just make a joke?" I laughed, propelling him into the grass with a shove.

"You sound surprised. I can be funny you know."

"Sure you can, freak. Sure you can."

When we reached the house again, my instinct to bolt went into overdrive. And it definitely wasn't eased when I saw my mother talking to muscle man right outside the front door.

"What…?" Michael started, following my gaze. "Oh." He quickly grabbed my hand, holding it tightly enough that I couldn't pull away. Geez was he stronger than he looked! I stared daggers at him. If only I could shoot fire out of my eyes, this ass would be incinerated!

"Stop it Charlotte," he whispered, pulling me closer. "We're pretending, remember?" As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I lowered my head in defeat.

"Fine," I whispered back. "But since we're going to be pretending we like each other, don't call me Charlotte. Only Liz does that. I'm Charlie."

"Alright Charlie." He said with a smile. "Now, smile for our parents." His tone dripped with sarcasm. I had to pinch myself to keep from laughing.

"Charlotte?" My mom asked. Her voice sounded weird. I looked up to see the look of wonder on my mom's face as she looked from my face to Michael's face and to our interlocked hands. That's when I had the best idea ever.

"Liz," I said sweetly, surprising everyone, including myself. "We've decided to get married, blah blah blah. I want something from you in return, however."

"What's that?" she asked, her face going from one of wonder to one of suspicion.

"I want to move out," I bluntly stated. Man did her jaw drop open!

"What?"

"You heard me. I don't want to live with you anymore. In fact, I don't want to live within a ten block radius of you."

"Fine," she said, composing herself quicker than I liked. Oh crap. "You'll be moving in with Michael then."

It was my turn to have my jaw drop. This plan had seriously backfired.

"What?" Michael said, surprising me and mother. Besides the pressure of his hand on mine, I had completely forgotten that he was standing there. Obviously mother had too. "I don't think that is a good idea," he continued, nervously looking from my face to my mother's. In the short time I had known him, all of three hours, I had not seen him nervous. And his nervous was not just a scared-looking nervous. It was a slightly scared and majorly pissed-nervous.

A crowd had begun to form around us as the guest's moved closer to hear what our heated discussion was about. I had a feeling I had just played into one of my mother's devious traps. God damn it! I am seventeen years old! I know my mother and I know the crap she pulls. How could I fall for this?

"Michael, I think it will be a great idea," Zane said, coming out of no where. "It will give you the chance to really get to know each other. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!

"So it's settled!" my mom said, smiling in satisfaction. "You can go home with him tonight even. I'll bring your stuff tomorrow."

Michael and I could only look at each other in shock. Slowly his grip on my hand was becoming stronger and stronger, but I didn't flinch, even when it became almost unbearable.

"You know," Zane said, looking at his watch. "This party has been going on long enough." Addressing muscle man, "John, will you please clear the house."

"Yessir," John muscle man answered. Within moments the party guests were leaving the mansion, thanking Zane for inviting them and congratulating Michael and I on our engagement.

"You two will be so happy together!" One elderly lady said, shaking my hand and then Michael's. And with those seemingly innocent words, the abrupt changes in my life were beginning to sink in. My world had been thrust upside down: I was pretend getting married, I was moving in with my pretend fiancé who incidentally had to be the hottest guy in the world and I was turning eighteen in two weeks. I found myself buried so deep, I wasn't sure that, even if everything went according to Michael's plan, I would ever be able to find my way back to the surface again.

"Are you okay?" Michael whispered as the four of us walked across the threshold.

"Yeah," I answered, staring dead-eyed at the floor as the door once more swung shut, closing with another ominous click.