Guess who's on vacation? Me! And it's the best ever. Swimming every day, lots of candy, warm sunshine…all the good things about summer rolled into one!
Reviews!
SomeRandomRobo: I know, right? The urge the dye my hair like hers is strong…chameleons and turtles are awesome, I've got a pet one in Minecraft. Actually now that I think about it, they should add chameleons, that'd be cool.
Lydia-From-Limmet: I know right :((( poor Mari. And the dogs…yes, the Pomeranians have a taste for FLESH. And yeeeaahhh, Springtrap isn't exactly one to be trusted…also yes corn snakes are the greatest and I forgot about them and I googled them to refresh my memory and now I want fifty.
Qxr: Yeah, that's what I was going for haha
Notmixsii: thanks for reviewing honey toes ;) - wait can we add honey toes into our epic seldom war song
Warning: alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction to said alcohol.
Enjoy!
Chapter 78
Bittersweet Birthday
"Oh, Michael, I love you soooooo much!"
Michael could hardly believe his ears. After a slow dance by the vibrant magenta water, violin music played by a group of dinosaurs, and a meal of spaghetti and ice-cream-balls, Shelby May Thomas had confessed her love to him!
"I-I like you too!" Michael stammered. He was amazed as Shelby, stunning in a rubbery pink dress and her chocolate hair swept up into a high ponytail held by a pearly comb, sauntered over to him, arms outstretched and hot pink lips puckered. Her slender hands landed on his shoulders, which were covered with - oh no, pyjamas?! I'm wearing my pyjamas on a date with Shelby?!
But it didn't seem to matter to Shelby, because she smiled, flashing shiny silver braces (which looked fabulous on her, unlike some other people), and leaned closer, long lashes fluttering closed…
"Mikey! Mikey, wake up!"
Michael was rudely awoken from his very delightful dream with rapid shaking from his imbecilic sister. He groaned, rolling over with his white blankets and squinting from the light illuminating lamp outside his room. Part of the light was black, with the silhouette of a messy-haired little girl.
"Oh my Godddd, Liz…what time is it?" He whined, covering his eyes with a lazy forearm.
Elizabeth peered at the blinking red clock. "Four-three-zero."
WHAT. "Four thirty?! What the hell is wrong with you? We have school in the morning!" Of course, he didn't actually care for his academic performance. More so, he wanted to see how his dream ended!
"Sorry," Elizabeth amended, not sounding sorry in the slightest. She squinted a little. "You've got something on your face."
"I- what?" Michael asked groggily. It was wayyy too early to comprehend…anything, really. "Why did you even wake me up, Liz? And I swear to God if you say you had another nightmare, I'm going to boil you alive, skin you, and stitch your hide into a cozy blanket, so that you might get an actual nice dream." His sister had a tendency to barge in about some stupid nightmares to him instead of William.
Although, last time Liz had gone to their father about a nightmare, it hadn't gone down so well…but it didn't mean Michael had to act as a replacement!
Elizabeth beamed, shaking him again. "It's your birthday Mikey! Isn't that great!"
Oh. Right. Fun fact, Michael actually didn't care. It wasn't that he hated his birthday, just that waking up at 4:30 seemed like more of a punishment than a gift. It was like when his grandfather sent him a half-empty deodorant in the mail last year….
Michael exhaled. "Lizzy, if you shake me with your hands one more time, you're not going to have hands. Now leave, I don't want to look like Father when I wake up the next morning." His father had a tendency to wake up with chronic-zombie-eye-bags and a terminal case of bedhead.
Elizabeth slumped. "Fine. But you still have something on your face."
"Goodbye, Elizabeth."
"Byeee."
~lll~
That morning at 6:45, a normal time to wake up, Michael's alarm clock blared. And usually, he'd pound it into the ground with his fist, but today he was actually kind of excited. Birthdays meant attention and gifts, two things Michael absolutely adored.
So he made sure to take extra good care of his appearance that day, using mouthwash and flossing, combing his fluffy dark hair into what he hoped was 'handsomely unruly'. He dressed in a black polo and ripped blue jeans, throwing on a black-and-white plaid flannel overtop. He layered on a gold chain, stuck his gold hoop in the left ear, and after an uncertain sniff, dabbed a bit of his father's cologne in his wrists and neck. Hey, it couldn't hurt to try.
And- oh. Elizabeth was right last night when she'd said there was something on his face. An angry red pimple sat in the middle of his forehead! Michael did his best to cover it up with his bangs…hopefully that would do the job.
"You've got a pimple."
Michael spun around in annoyance, spotting his younger brother standing in the doorway. "Gee, thanks. I hadn't noticed."
"You're welcome," Evan said brightly. "Glad I could help."
"I was being sarcastic, dipshit. Now scram." Michael hissed, shooing him away as if Evan was a pesky fruit fly. Evan shrugged, but did as Michael asked. Michael rolled his eyes in annoyance, turning back to his bangs. Honestly, no matter what the report cards said, his brother could be such a dunce!
Michael exited his room, expecting to see his siblings fighting over the bonus toy in the cereal, or just fighting in general. But to his surprise, his father was awake and chipper, dressed in a casually stylish gray turtleneck and black blazer. Rectangular glasses sat on the tip of his nose as he took a long sip of his black coffee. His siblings sat in their respective seats at the table, chowing down their cereal like they were the starving orphans in Africa his mother always nagged him about.
"What are you doing here? You're never awake in the mornings." Michael questioned cautiously.
William glanced at him in surprise, as if he hadn't noticed Michael enter the room. "Oh, blame her." He jutted a thumb backwards, and it was only then that Michael recognized his mother.
She was dressed in a simple sage-green scoop-neck longsleeve and navy blue jeans. Her ginger-blonde hair was tied up in its usual ponytail, and the freckles on her face seemed to have doubled since last Sunday. Probably because of all the sunny weather they'd been getting.
Clara spun around in delight. "Oh, Michael! Happy thirteenth birthday, sweetie!" She ran towards him and bent over to give Michael a kiss on the cheek, leaving a shimmery pink stain.
Michael scrubbed at his face furiously with his fist. "Ugh, Mum. Gross."
Clara normally would have scolded him for that, but was lenient for his birthday. "Sit down. I've made you a special breakfast!" She gestured to the table, then left to go fetch a bowl from the kitchen next door
Michael, had to admit, he felt a little flicker of hope in his chest when she said that. Perhaps she'd made eggs Benedict, Michael's all-time favourite breakfast.
"So you're thirteen, eh?" William commented from behind his mug as Clara entered the room. "If I'm being honest, I completely forgot it was your birthday today."
Clara swatted at him, which William dodged, cough-laughing at her attempt. "Will! Be nice. Mike, love, your father is just joking. Right, William?"
His father ignored her, instead zeroing in on Michael's forehead. "You've got a mate up there. Your forehead."
Michael shot a glare at him. "Yeah, I'm aware. What, you've never had a pimple before?"
"Nope," William chirped. "Never in my life."
"Oh please, I'm sure that's a lie." Clara scolded, getting a spoon from the silverware drawer.
William laughed drily, but didn't respond.
Clara shifted uncomfortably. "Um, okay. Mike, your breakfast is ready." She presented a small bowl with flowers on it, setting it down on the table.
Now, Michael had expected something along the lines of pancakes, or if he was being wishful, eggs Benedict. He did not, in fact, expect a soggy bowl of Gloomy-O's with a rapidly melting tuft of whipped cream floating in the milk. It was, quite possibly, the most depressing breakfast in the history of ever.
"Ah, thanks." Michael said, hesitantly prodding the whipped cream with his spoon.
Elizabeth stood up on her chair, peering into his bowl. When she saw he had whipped cream, he plopped down on her booster seat and promptly started to whine.
"MUMMYYYYY! I WANT WHIPPY CREAM!" Elizabeth shouted.
"Hush, dear. Michael gets some because it's his birthday." Clara quieted her youngest.
But that didn't soothe Elizabeth. "I DIDN'T GET ANY WHIPPY CREAM ON MY BIRTHDAY! I WANT WHIPPY CREAM! I WANT WHIPPY CREAM!" She howled at the top of her lungs, pounding the table with her fists and chanting over and over.
Clara set her stern green gaze on Elizabeth. "Beth, we talked about this. No more temper tantrums, remember? Now be quiet and eat your cereal, Mummy worked very hard on making it for you."
Elizabeth was silent for a second, then let out a bloodcurdling scream and threw her bowl to the floor, porcelain and milky white shattering and splashing all over the red rug. She resumed her previous chant, and for about the fiftieth time in his life, Michael seriously debated sororicide.
William stared at Liz as if she had two heads. "Elizabeth, if you don't shut up, I'm going to rip out your eyes, boil them into a soup, and feed it to Evan."
Evan looked up, bewildered. "Huh?"
"It's alright, love. Go back to your cereal," Clara soothed. While she was going to scold her ex for the threat, she had to admit it worked.
However, while Elizabeth had stopped screaming, she was now sulkily pounding the table with her fist. Each pound was like driving a screwdriver through Michael's skull.
William glanced at his daughter with disinterest, as if she was a tabloid magazine at the supermarket. "You're really bloody annoying, Liz. You know that, right?"
Funny, Michael had been thinking the exact same thing. Like father, like son, he supposed.
"William." Clara hissed through gritted teeth. Her face was flushed red, fists clenched and trembling. "That is quite enough."
"Sorry." William said. "It's just the truth. Listening to her makes me wanna, you know." William mimed a finger gun pointed at his head, then made a click sound with his tongue and let his head loll to the side.
"Same." Michael blurted, then instantly felt bad. Elizabeth was only five, after all. She couldn't help it. "I'm sorry. I didn't really mean that."
"That's okay, honey. I know." Clara said, her voice deathly calm. She didn't take her eyes off of his father. "William, can I speak to you in private for a second?"
"I've taken my meds." William said monotonously. "Because I know you're going to ask. Since that's always the first thing you bitch about whenever you come here." He cracked a lazy smile at that, his eyes half-closed like he was still asleep.
"I guess that's something." Clara muttered. "But you still shouldn't snap at her!"
"What, you think it's all my decision! I'm practically insane, Clary-bell, I should be locked up in an asylum." He said, grinning. "Insanity runs in the family. It practically gallops."
"Good one. Where'd you find that, 102 More Excuses To Feed Your Ex-Wife? Gaslighting me is kind of a pathetic move, don't you think?" She snapped.
"Mmm, you're pathetic." William purred, resting his chin on his hand. "Always have been. That's what I love about you, Clary-bell."
Clara's heart skipped a beat, and not in the fluffy-cute-romantic way, in the terror-and-fear inducing kind of way. That's what he'd said, one year ago, the night of the divorce.
But this time, she wasn't going to give him a reaction, the one he so obviously craved. At this point in the argument, William usually liked to play his excuse cards, of which he had many. He could come up with some pretty creative ones in a pinch, Clara had noticed. But right now, faced with three kids watching them fight as if they were watching a game of bloodbath ping-pong, she knew she had to be the adult in this situation.
"Okay, William. Whatever you say." She said simply, turning away and heading to wash the dishes.
William frowned, disappointed. He was really hoping for one of those cute little reactions of hers, when her eyes would get all big and teary and her whole body would tremble. William had liked to hold her close in those moments, helping her to quiet down, because in those moments, she truly was pathetic, wasn't she?
All of a sudden, the phone started to ring, loud electronic music playing from the phone on the wall behind William. The caller ID read 'Call from H EMILY'.
Michael's face split into a wide grin. While his nerves were still a bit jangly from watching his parents argue, he started to calm once he saw that Henry was calling!
William let out a long, loud sigh, standing up with his chair screeching behind him, and picked up the phone.
"Hey, Hen, it's William. Yep. Uh-huh. Yeah, he's pretty old now. Mm-hm. Mm-hm. No, no. No! Yeah! Uh-huhhhh. Okay, okay. Yeah. Sure!"
"Daddy?" Elizabeth tugged on the bottom of his shirt. "Daddy, what is 'bitch'?"
William's eyes widened and he had to muffle a laugh. "Uh, yeah, I'm still here, Hen. Just a sec, the kids are being brats again." He pressed a small button on the phone and wildly pointed out the window, a shocked expression on his face. "OH MY GOD! ELIZABETH! WHAT'S THAT OUTSIDE?!" He shouted.
Elizabeth's head whirled around. "What? Where?!"
"Outside! Oh my God, I think it's an…ice cream…raccoon!"
"An ice-cream raccoon?" Evan asked, his face scrunched up in confusion. "Those don't exi-"
"Evan. Shut up." William muttered through clenched teeth, then returned to his maniacally excited look. "It's in the backyard! Yeah! Go get it!" He cheered as Elizabeth dashed outside to view this magnificent beast.
William rolled his eyes, pressing the button again. "These kids are bloody daft. They don't get it from me, that's for sure. Anyways, like you were saying…"
Michael fidgeted in his seat, starting to get antsy. He wanted to talk to Henry! "Fa-ther. Can I talk to Henry now?"
"No, Michael. Yeah, no kidding. Yeah!" William continued. "Seriously? That's crazy!"
"It's my birthday!" Michael complained. "Lemme talk to him! Or else…" Michael tried to think of a suitable threat. "Or else I'll call Elizabeth back inside and tell her that you're going to let her see Circus Baby!"
William was at his side in an instant. "Here. Take the phone. And don't you ever do that, you hear me?"
"Thank-youuu," Michael sing-songed, taking the phone. "Hey, Henry! It's me, Michael!"
"Hey, kiddo! Glad to see you're back safe and sound from Saffron." He said teasingly.
Michael laughed. "Yeah! Anyways, it's my birthday today!"
"I heard! Did you get my or your uncle's card in the mail?" Michael's uncle, Vincent, sent him a birthday card with money each year.
"Not yet. But I bet it's great."
"Definitely is. To put it like the Brits, better than any shoddy card your crazy father made you." Henry boasted.
"Oh, yeah." Michael laughed nervously. His father had never made him or his siblings a card as long as he was living. "Deffo."
The two of them talked for a bit, while Clara packed his and his siblings backpacks for them. After about ten or so minutes, Clara came in to tell him he should wrap it up.
"Okay, I've got to go now."
"Mm-kay. Have a wonderful birthday, kiddo! Hope it's filled with lots of good memories!"
Michael laughed. "Thanks. Okay, bye!"
"Bye! Haveagooddayatschool!"
~lll~
As soon as Michael stepped into school, he was immediately swarmed by the three idiots he called his friends.
"Ohhhhhhh, birthdayyy boooooy!" Joseph called, hands cupped around his mouth. He rummaged around in his beige knee-length shorts and pulled out a 'birthday boy' sticker and slapped it on his cheek.
"Thirteen punches for good luuuuck!" Patrick sing-songed, and he and Joseph started to assault his arms on either side.
Michael rolled his eyes with a grin. "You guys are so dumb."
Jeremy smiled at him apologetically. "Sorry. I tried to get them to…not do that, but they didn't listen."
"S'okay, Jer. I appreciate the consideration." Michael said with a warm smile, which Jeremy returned.
His other two friends had stopped giving Michael's poor arms bruises and were now staring at them in disgust. "Are you guys flirting or something?" Joseph asked, wrinkling his nose.
"God, Josephine. I'm going to give you birthday punches." Michael scoffed. "You guys are actually stupid."
Everyone laughed, but then Patrick's dark brown eyes landed behind him and they widened. "Oi, Michaelangelo. Turn around."
Michael did, and…wow.
Shelby May Thomas was sauntering down the hallway as if there was a spotlight pointed directly on her. She was wearing a hot pink velvet sweatsuit with Juicy Couture printed on her chest in silver rhinestones. She wore matching pink kitten heels, and her chocolate-coloured hair was up in a sleek high pony.
Michael gulped, feeling his stomach do thirty backflips as Shelby was suddenly less than a foot away from him.
Shelby beamed. "Hi, Mike! Happy birthday!"
"Yes." Said a very rationally thinking Michael. "Good."
She giggled, covering her mouth with nails coated in chipped silver polish, matching her eyeshadow. "You're so funny. Anyways, I've got a birthday gift for you!" Shelby pulled out her phone from her pocket, bedazzled in purple gems. She flipped it open, clicking a few times and then holding it out in front of her.
"Here, put your arm around me," Shelby commanded, poking him in the shoulder. Michael did as she asked, flushing bright red. God, I probably look so stupid right now.
Shelby held her phone in the air, giving the camera a big, shiny silver smile. "Say Happy Birthday!"
"Happy birthday!" Michael tried, giving the camera a wide grin.
Shelby pulled it down, scrutinizing it carefully. "Ugh, I look so bad in this. My nose is literally so big, and my skin is so uneven."
"What?! Shelby, you look amazing." How could she even say that?! She was prettier than like, ninety percent of the models he'd seen on TV, and she didn't even have a filter on!
Shelby gave him a wry smile. "Thanks, but you know it's not true." She sighed, playing around with the editing settings until she had smoothed out their skin to blurry perfection. "I guess I'll post this on my Facebook, then." She showed him the photo.
"Wow. Nice." Although if he was being honest, he liked her better without the filter. She was a living filter. "Uh, not to sound rude or anything, but could I have my present now?"
Shelby swatted him on the shoulder affectionately. "You're so funny! That was the present! Now all my followers can see you with me."
Michael blinked. "Right. Um, thanks?"
"You're welcome!"
The bell rang for class, and Shelby gave him an apologetic look. "I've got to meet Amber, so I'll be a bit late. See you in Gym?"
"Yeah, sure!" Michael called. He liked Gym. They got to play lots of full-court basketball.
Suddenly, a hand slapped his back, and two people were at his side. Pat and Jer were both in his Gym class, and they, unfortunately, had to follow him.
Well, Jeremy wasn't as bad. He was definitely the most chill out of all his friends. Patrick was the most annoying, and Joseph was the most reckless (i.e, stupid), but Jeremy was different, quieter and more reserved than the others. He was nice when Michael needed a slower pace rather than the rapid-fire conversations that the majority of his friends required.
"So, you and Shells gonna bang anytime soon?" Patrick jeered, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and smirking.
Michael rolled his eyes, picking his arm off gingerly. "Dude, not cool. We're literally thirteen."
"Yeah, isn't that illegal?" Jeremy asked, wrinkling his nose.
Patrick sniffed haughtily. "Whatever. Anyways, you know what I think you should do? Go out with her. Get to at least first, maybe second base dude, you'll be legendary. I don't know many guys who've kissed a girl, let alone Shelby."
"Ooooo, second baaaase!" Jeremy made spooky hands, the sleeves of his favourite green hoodie bagging over his hands when he dropped them. Just like sweater paws. It was kind of cute, honestly.
Wait.
What?!
Michael shook his head. God, he was acting really weird today. It was probably that stupid dream that his equally stupid sister just had to wake him up from.
And second base...what was that? He knew what third base and first were so…was that like, neck kissing? Like a vampire? And was he even ready to do all that? On TV, it looked so easy, but in the moment Michael was sure he'd screw up somehow.
Michael sighed. Whatever. Right now, all he had to worry about was Gym class, and that was nothing to fear.
~lll~
Michael and the other boys in his class filed down to the changeroom. One of the boys, a tall kid named Caius with his brown hair in a curly perm, instead went into the boy's bathroom.
Everyone stared and whispered as Caius went past, and Michael gave him a look of pity. Caius had come out as gay at the start of the year, and the gym teachers had forbidden him from the changerooms. Which Michael was thankful for, he didn't need some creep watching him take his shirt off! This also left Cai as a sort of pariah in the gym as well, because everyone knew gay kids couldn't play sports.
"So Mike, what do you have planned for later?" Jeremy asked him, shrugging his dark olive-green jacket off and revealing a black long sleeve.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Oh, my mum's taking my family out to some restaurant downtown. My father wanted to just eat at Fredbear's because we get food for free, but my mum wanted to go somewhere special."
"Which restaurant?"
"Uh, I kind of forgot. Jeremiah's, or something?"
Jeremy winced. "Yikes. I went there once when I was little with my mom and brothers - total shit-fest. The waiters looked like they were high, and the food was greasier than…than…"
"Fredbear's pizza?" Michael joked, taking off his flannel and shoving it in his bag.
Jeremy laughed. "Yeah, actually. No offense." He tugged the long sleeve off, ruffling his sandy blonde hair, and Michael averted his eyes quickly. For some reason, he'd always done that with Jeremy, but not with the other guys. Michael had wondered why, but never questioned it.
After swiftly changing into red track shorts, Michael was ready. He waited for Jeremy to be finished changing into his own shorts and white tank top provided by the school, and the two walked out of the changeroom, laughing and joking and awaiting a fun-filled hour of physical activity.
~lll~
Michael grinned, a skip in his step as he walked up the winding cobblestone path to his home. School had been amazing! Everyone had decorated his locker with stickers, notes, and gifts, and a few of his favourite teachers had given him those little Scooby-Doo gummy snacks that he loved. Plus, Jeremy had given him a jumbo back of watermelon gum, his favourite! Yep, a pretty perfect day, He thought as he turned the doorknob.
"EVAN THIS IS A SPECIAL DAY! PUT ON YOUR TIE!"
"NOOOOOO! I CAN'T BREEEEEATHE!"
"Mummy, what is bitch?"
"WILLIAM, WHAT DID YOU TEACH OUR DAUGHTER?!"
Michael let out a long sigh. And there goes his perfect day. You know, as much as he hated schoolwork, school itself was pretty fun, at least compared to his home. He'd give anything to be joyriding around with the guys, buying junk food and talking about the stupidest stuff they could imagine. And instead, he had to go to some one-star restaurant and have a stuffy dinner with his discordant family.
When he entered his house, the first thing he noticed was his father practically strangling a wailing Evan with a tie. A perfectly normal sight, of course.
"YOU'RE CHOKING MEEE!" Evan screamed, tears rolling down his blotchy red face.
"Just- God, Evan, stop struggling!" His father hissed. "You're just choking yourself now, if you stay still then it'll all be over!"
"I A-A-AM STAYING STI-I-ILL!" Evan shouted between sobs. "I DON'T WANNA WEAR THE TI-I-IE…!"
"Evan? What's wrong, honey?" Clara asked, walking into the room. Her green eyes widened in horror as she saw the scene in front of her. "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"
"What's happening is that I'm literally going to throw Evan out the fucking window if he doesn't suck it up and let me tie this tie." William growled under his breath.
"I'm reminded of why I divorced you," Clara muttered, swiftly stalking over and ripping his hands off Evan, who gasped for breath like a fish out of water. Michael rolled his eyes, Evan was so dramatic sometimes!
And then his parents yelled at each other and fought and blah, blah, blah, it had happened so many times and was so repetitive that Michael was sick of wasting valuable brain space recording it.
Anyways, Clara managed to find a zip-up tie for Evan, and got Elizabeth into a tulle-infested poofy pink dress. Disaster averted, they piled into their family car and drove to the restaurant.
Well, the inside of Jeremiah's was...not what he was expecting. The restaurant walls were made of sleek dark brown wood, and lit up by mini crystal glass chandeliers. On the tables there were golden candelabras, and cloth napkins that matched the snow-white colour of their coverings. He hadn't seen anything like this place before, despite being rich the family never really went out to eat at swanky, elegant locations like this.
Honestly, what was Jeremy thinking?! This place was great!
"Table for five, please." Clara asked the lady at the front desk.
"Six." Elizabeth corrected, holding up her red-pigtailed doll.
The lady's forehead wrinkled. "Five, or six?"
"Five. Elizabeth, shush please."
Elizabeth stamped her foot. "SIX. Baby is here too."
Clara let out a long sigh. "Fine. Table for six, please, and sorry for…her."
"That's alright. Your table is just to the left and down." She pointed to the left, then squinted. "Oh, kid, you've got something on your…on your forehead. You should, like, see a dermatologist. My friend Amy's one, I can give you her number if-"
His mother quickly thanked her and steered Michael away before he could give the lady a matching red welt on her forehead.
The family made their way down the winding path in-between wooden brown tables decorated with menus and condiments and napkins. Michael almost felt like a king sitting at a court of royals, the only noise being the murmur of other customers and the faint piano music played over the speakers.
It wasn't long before a short woman with a bright purple ponytail and a name tag on her black uniform reading 'Barbie' showed up. "Hi there! I'm Barbie, here are some kids worksheets for the little ones. What can I get for you guys?" Her voice was chipper as she passed out two worksheets and two packages of mini crayons to Evan and Elizabeth.
Michael took great pride in the fact that she didn't hand him some. He must really look like a teenager! After doing a quick scan of the menu, he had decided. "I want the smoked bacon burger and a chocolate milkshake."
"Michael, it's 'could I please have', not 'I want'. And no chocolate milkshake, that whipped cream you had in your breakfast was plenty of sugar." Ignoring Michael's protests, she turned to the waitress with a blinding smile. "He'll have some water instead." Clara ordered. "And I'll have a Caesar salad, hold the dressing, and a tall glass of water."
"I'll have the bacon burger and a bottle of red wine, I'll pour it myself." William decided. Then something flashed across his face, and he turned to Clara, a devilish smirk on his face. "Oh, terribly sorry, is that alright with you? I'd simply hate for you to go all addict-crazy over this, darling."
"The wine is fine, William. I'm not an animal, I'm pretty sure I have some self-control." Clara hissed between gritted teeth.
"Just checking," he trilled, mirthful silver eyes dancing. Clara rolled her eyes in his direction as she gave a quick apology to their waitress, who assured her it was fine.
"I wanna grilled cheese!" Elizabeth piped up from the other side of the booth. "And a choccy milkshake!"
"Me too!" Evan agreed.
"That sounds fine," Clara said with a nod, turning to Barbie. "That'll be all, dear."
Michael's eyes widened in outrage. "What?! Mum, that's not fair! How come they get milkshakes and I don't?!"
Clara fixed him with a hard glare. "You're siblings are just kids. You're a teenager now, almost an adult, and it's time you start acting like one."
Michael slumped in his seat, then an idea dawned on him. "Hey wait, if I'm basically an adult, can I get some wi-"
"No."
The five of them sat in silence, the only sound being the movement of waxy crayons against paper as the two youngest solved puzzles and coloured in animals on their worksheets. Finally, after several dull minutes of phoneless waiting (Michael noticed that William was on his phone the entire time, hypocrite) Barbie returned, masterfully carrying five drinks and five plates of food on her two arms and head. She set each of them down, and the family minus the two oldest boys applauded.
Everyone dug into their food, and as Michael smelled the delicious juicy burger covered in strips of crispy, mouthwatering bacon, his stomach rumbled. His picked up the sesame-covered bun, taking a big bite out of the burger-
And immediately spat it out, coughing and gagging. "Ugh, what the hell was in that thing?!" That was the most disgusting thing he'd ever put in his mouth, and that was saying a lot.
"Michael Terrance Afton! Language!" Clara scolded, setting down her salad fork and crossing her arms.
"Wha- But Father swears all the time!" Michael cried in outrage. His mother was so unfair!
"Yes, well, your father is special. He's an adult, he's allowed to say what he likes. Of course, that doesn't mean he should cuss in front of you kids." Clara said, shooting a glare at William.
William ignored her, instead baring his teeth in a half grimace, half smile at Michael. "Deal with it, motherfucker."
"Stop acting like a child, William, oh my God." Clara groaned, pressing on hand to her temple and taking out an aspirin from her purse, popping it into her mouth and swallowing. "Michael, what could possibly be so bad that you had to spit out the burger and completely forget all of your table manners?"
"I- I don't know! It just - eugh, it tasted so gross!" Michael sputtered in confusion.
"Well, mah burgeff tasfes fine," William said over a gigantic mouthful of bacon burger. Michael rolled his eyes at his father and turned back to Clara, who sighed and leaned over.
"Oh, give it here. I'm sure it's not that bad!" She took a cautious bite of the other side and chewed, then nodded. "Yes, it's just a tofu burger, Mike. I'm sure you'll survive."
William choked on his burger, cough-laughing with a hand over his mouth. "No son of mine is going to be a vegan! Not under my roof!"
Clara glared at him. "Michael can be a vegan if he wants, there's nothing wrong with that."
William grimaced. "Yikes, keep your morals away from me. Sick degenerate."
Michael rolled his eyes. "Can it, Father, I definitely don't want to be a vegan. Not after that atrocity, anyway."
Clara looked rather offended. "Oh hush, it's not that bad - ELIZABETH, CHEESE IS NOT TO BE WORN!"
The cheese-jewlery-adorned Elizabeth frowned. "But it looks pretty! Like gemmy-stones."
"Food is not for wearing, sweetheart." Clara chided. "Now, finish your sandwich before it gets cold."
Elizabeth grumbled in protest, but managed to finish most of her sandwich, though the crusts remained untouched. Evan, who must be some type of sociopath, reached over and ate the crusts. Michael screwed up his face in disgust. Eughhh.
"So, how are we all enjoying the food?" Barbie asked, arriving at their table and clasping her hands together with a wide smile. Michael could see a gap between her top two teeth, it reminded him of Shelby's.
"Oh, it's wonderful." Clara assured her.
Barbie grinned. "Fantastic! Can I get you guys some dessert?"
Clara gave her a smile. "Sorry dear, but we're going to have cake later. It's Michael here's thirteenth birthday and-"
"Wait did you say birthday?!" Barbie's eyes lit up in delight, and she did a little fist pump. "Oh my God, finally! I've worked here for three years and I've never gotten to do this! I'll go get the Birthday Gong!"
William gave her a panicked look. "Um, the Birthday what now?"
GONGGGGGG.
The gong was smashed with a large stick, Barbie gleefully calling every waiter to their table. Michael was currently going into his fight-or-flight response, and chose neither. He shrank down in his chair, the collar of his flannel riding up against the seat.
A man with wildly curly brown hair placed a white-frosted cupcake in front of him. A single candle rested in the icing. He turned to Michael, his voice a low drawl and eyes sunken. "Kid, what's your name?"
Michael sighed, pulling his eyes down with one hand in frustration. "Michael…" Please don't start singing. Please don't start singing.
They started singing.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MICHAELLL, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"
"Oh my God." Michael whispered in hushed awe. "Do they have any self-respect?"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MICHAEL, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUU!"
Clara shot him a glare, kicking him under the table and applauding the waiters with a wide, plastic smile. "Fantastic job! We'll get back to our food, now."
Whatever. At least it was over right?
Right?
But apparently Michael must have drowned a puppy or decapitated an orphan or shot a saint in a past life, because some divine figure was set to torment him. Elizabeth stood up on her seat, climbed up onto their table, and announced; "It's my birthday, too!"
Barbie looked like she was going to pass out from sheer serotonin. "Really?! Oh my goodness, yes! Okay guys, another round for…"
"Elizabeth!"
William grabbed Elizabeth's leg with a death stare. "Liz. What the hell are you doing."
Elizabeth simply shook him off, as the staff began to sing with much less enthusiasm than before. Elizabeth's smile stretched ear to ear as she basked in the glory of the attention. The patrons next to them looked downright murderous at the inturuptions and Michael honestly couldn't blame them.
Unfortunately, there was always that one bratty kid at the restaurant. And while usually that was just his sister, apparently there was a kid bratty enough to toss a spoonful of his mac and cheese right onto Liz's forehead. Her emerald eyes darkened, and she crouched down, grabbing a handful of Caesar salad.
From beside him, Evan made the sign of the cross, Clara downright just covered her eyes, the staff looked frozen in fear, and William looked like he wanted some popcorn right now.
Elizabeth, with the strength of forty pro baseball pitchers, hurled the lettuce at the kid. And the kid stood up, ketchup bottle in hand, and shouted the two most horrifying words Michael had ever heard.
"FOOOOOOOD FIIIIIIIGHT!"
And suddenly the weather forecast became cloudy with a chance of anything edible, as condiment bottles became snipers and chunks of food flew through the air like cannonballs, Liz in the center of it all.
Clara tugged on Michael's and Evan's hands. "Under the table. Now."
Michael wrinkled his nose at the distinctly foot-y smell under the tables. The chewed-up gum stuck to the bottom didn't exactly help the aesthetic either. Though it did look pretty tasty...mm, was that watermelon?
William, completely calm in the midst of chaos, tapped Barbie on the shoulder, wine bottle downed and glass empty. "Excuse me, love, but could I get a refill? I think I'm going to need it."
~lll~
"I cannot believe that we got banned. From a five star restaurant!" Clara cried in utter disbelief, one arm raised high with the other dragging a sulky Elizabeth behind her. They were in the nighttime parking lot, illuminated by the golden glow of street lights. Michael could see little dust particles dancing around, a few moon-white moths swarming the light.
"I can." William wheezed, having been dying of laughter ever since they were gently escorted outside after an embarrassed Clara hastily paid the bill.
Clara whacked him on the shoulder with her green mini purse. "Oh, shut up, you. While I was trying to protect the kids, you were getting blackout drunk at a family restaurant. Great parenting, Will."
"I'm not drunk, you're drunk." William slurred, unlocking their car with a click of his keys and opening the driver's seat.
Clara shoved him out of the way, he stumbled backwards with a wolfish grin on his face. "Funny, very funny. Get your ass in the passenger's seat." She snapped.
"Jeez. Bo-ssy." He mumbled, drumming on the hood of the car with a grin as he passed by. Michael quietly slid in his seat, fastening the seatbelt. His mother was clearly in one of her moods right now, and it was best to tread lightly. Clara never responded well to stress.
A sudden, horrifying thought occurred to him. God, I hope she doesn't relapse.
"Mummy! My seatbelt is all tangly!" Elizabeth whined from beside him.
"Mike, help your sister with her seatbelt." His mother said tiredly, undoing her ponytail and running a hand through her limp ginger hair. It was always odd to see his mother with her hair down, it basically never happened. She said it was more practical that way, but if that was the reason then why not just cut it, is what Michael didn't get.
"You look pretty," William commented nonchalantly. "You should wear your hair down more. I like it."
"Another great reason to tie it up."
"Mummyyyy! My seatbelt is really tangly!" Elizabeth complained.
Michael sighed a long, exasperated sigh and twisted the seatbelt twice. And magically it was perfectly straight. "Wow. So difficult."
Michael buckled his own seatbelt and his mother slowly backed out of the parking lot, driving down the empty road in complete, suffocating silence. Michael gazed out the window, counting each street light they passed by. Five…six…seven…eight…
"Um," Evan piped up, "Did I tell you I've got a spelling bee coming up? It's me and a couple kids from third grade against Capricorn Elementary. It's soon."
Yeah, you've told me that. Like a jillion times. "Oh my God Evan, nobody cares."
He could see his mother's glare in the rearview mirror. "Well, I do! That sounds wonderful, Evan. And you're the youngest! Tell me the date and time and I'll be there to cheer you on."
"Okay!" Evan beamed, kicking his legs in excitement. Michael rolled his eyes. Spelling bees were the stupidest things on Earth. Who needed to know how to spell, like, onomatopoeia? Or xylocarp? It was possibly the nerdiest thing in the entire universe - which actually made sense that Evan would be doing it.
Clara finally parked at the gate of their house. "We're here. Kids, do your normal bedtime routines, I think your father will be going to sleep soon."
William shook his head. "Nah, I was actually thinking about working on some new mechanics for Bon-Bo- ow!"
"I think your father will be going to sleep soon." Clara repeated, her voice deathly calm as she fixed her harsh green glare on him.
"Sheesh, pushy." He raised his hands in surrender and unlocked his door, heading up the cobblestone path to their home. Michael helped his sister out of her seat and the kids climbed out from the car.
Michael stayed for a moment after everyone had left, going around the back and stopping at the drivers . "Thanks for the dinner, Mum. It was…uh, nice." It really wasn't, but he should try and make her think she did a good job, at least.
Clara sighed. "No, it wasn't. I'm sorry, love, I should have tried harder to give you a better birthday. And I'm sorry your father and I fought so much, I know you don't like that. It's not fair to you or your siblings."
"It's alright. Father started it, anyways."
"Maybe, but I shouldn't have reciprocated." Clara exhaled, then turned to him with a hopeful smile. "Next year, okay honey? It'll be your big fourteenth! I'll throw you the best party ever, whatever you want. You don't even have to have your siblings around if you don't want them in the way." She joked.
"Next year," Michael echoed. "Sounds amazing."
A/N
I doubt his siblings will be at his next party…
Because they don't want to hang out with a LOSER who doesn't like VEGGIE BURGERS like MICHAEL! Why else wouldn't they be there? Wait, dude, what were you thinking?!
Question/Challenge: What are you most excited for this summer? I'm excited for my birthday and doing lots of swimming.
Have an amazing day/night!
~Ghost