Don't Leave Me., chapter 5
<p>I wanted to start shopping straight away. But I couldn't. I didn't have any cash. I trudged into Callums' room and snooped around. I managed to collect a couple of dollars. That wouldn't even buy me one of those sparkly hair scrunchy things.</p>
<p>I sighed and slid down against Cals' bed. He was probably out with his many friends right now, partying and drinking. I thought about what Mike had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did try to get people to hate me. Maybe I did want people to cast me aside and think me different. </p>
<p>I stood up wearily and walked back to my own room. I so wanted to see Mike again. I really wanted to tell him what I planned to do. He probably wouldn't care, but I felt that he had to know I was going to change the way I was.</p>
<p>I didn't have his number or his address or anything, but I thought he might be out and about with Kelsey.</p>
<p>I pulled my black converse back on and headed out. I couldn't find Mike anywhere, but the fresh air was doing me good. I went into Starbucks and ordered some coffee off the list that I couldn't pronounce. The picture made it look nice.<br />The woman handed me my drink and I paid her and headed out. I looked around, sipping my drink. I could hear faint music coming from somewhere. It sounded good, so I followed it. </p>
<p>I eventually ended up outside a really nice house. The music was loud now. I knew it was coming from a room in the house. The music suddenly stopped, and then a new song was played. It sounded just as good as the first. Better. I hung around, listening for a while, even after I'd finished the coffee.</p>
<p>The music stopped once more, and I waited expectantly for it to start again. After about fifteen minutes, it still hadn't started again, and suddenly, the front door to the house opened and I jumped off the house wall that I had been sitting on, listening to the music and swinging my legs. <br />None other than Mike walked out of the house.<br />"Later, Billie!" He called to the inside of the house, and then he closed the front door and walked out of the gate, a guitar case slung over his shoulder. <br />"Hi!" I said brightly. Mike gasped and turned round sharply. I had obviously startled him.<br />His eyes narrowed at me.<br />
"You." Was all he said.<br />I sighed.<br />"Me," I replied.<br />"Stalking me? I thought I made it clear, I don't want anything to do with you," Mike said firmly.
<br />"I know, I know. It's just - I wanted to tell you something," I told him, walking closer to him.<br />He sighed.<br />"I don't wanna hear it, ok? I'm going home," he said, obviously irritated.<br />"No, wait! I have to tell you, Mike. It's important!" I insisted.<br />"You broke a nail?" he said unkindly. I put my head on one side, not smiling at him.<br />"No," I answered. "No, what I wanted to tell you is - I'm changing!" <br />"Gemma, I didn't really wanna know that... Guys are different to girls... That crap makes me feel uneasy," said Mike. He was being serious, but I couldn't help giggling.<br />"I don't mean those kinda changes!" I laughed. Mike didn't laugh back, he just rolled his eyes.<br />
"I mean, I'm changing the way I... Look. I'm gonna stop with the black stuff and the punk music," I said, hoping he would smile.<br />He just looked down and shook his head.<br />"Great," he mumbled, and he turned and walked away.
<br />I stared after him, confused. I wanted to call after him, but the words just stuck in my throat.<br />Suddenly, the door to the house opened again, and a guy with messy black hair and bright green eyes walked out, looking at a piece of paper with something written on it. It looked like some sort of flyer. He walked out through the gate, but he looked up at me and then looked around.<br />"Can I help you?" he asked, when he'd turned back to me. I thought it must look a little weird, me just standing there outside what was presumably this guys' house. <br />"Uh... I... Are you... ? Do you know Mike?" I stuttered. <br />"Um... " He began. "Can I help you?" he repeated. I sighed. 'Idiot,' I thought wearily.<br />"Okay, okay, listen very carefully, man," I said. "Do. You. Know. Michael. Pritchard?"<br />The boy listened, and then squinted at me and stood up straight. Then he said just as slowly,<br />"Yes."
<br />"Great!" I squealed. "Could you tell me where he lives?" I asked eagerly.
<br />He said in exactly the same tone as before,<br />"No." <br />I frowned at him.<br />"Why can't you tell me?" I said like a five year old.<br />The boy shook his head.<br />"You ask too many questions," he said, and then he walked off, looking at the paper again.</p>
<p>I sighed and slid down against Cals' bed. He was probably out with his many friends right now, partying and drinking. I thought about what Mike had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did try to get people to hate me. Maybe I did want people to cast me aside and think me different. </p>
<p>I stood up wearily and walked back to my own room. I so wanted to see Mike again. I really wanted to tell him what I planned to do. He probably wouldn't care, but I felt that he had to know I was going to change the way I was.</p>
<p>I didn't have his number or his address or anything, but I thought he might be out and about with Kelsey.</p>
<p>I pulled my black converse back on and headed out. I couldn't find Mike anywhere, but the fresh air was doing me good. I went into Starbucks and ordered some coffee off the list that I couldn't pronounce. The picture made it look nice.<br />The woman handed me my drink and I paid her and headed out. I looked around, sipping my drink. I could hear faint music coming from somewhere. It sounded good, so I followed it. </p>
<p>I eventually ended up outside a really nice house. The music was loud now. I knew it was coming from a room in the house. The music suddenly stopped, and then a new song was played. It sounded just as good as the first. Better. I hung around, listening for a while, even after I'd finished the coffee.</p>
<p>The music stopped once more, and I waited expectantly for it to start again. After about fifteen minutes, it still hadn't started again, and suddenly, the front door to the house opened and I jumped off the house wall that I had been sitting on, listening to the music and swinging my legs. <br />None other than Mike walked out of the house.<br />"Later, Billie!" He called to the inside of the house, and then he closed the front door and walked out of the gate, a guitar case slung over his shoulder. <br />"Hi!" I said brightly. Mike gasped and turned round sharply. I had obviously startled him.<br />His eyes narrowed at me.<br />
"You." Was all he said.<br />I sighed.<br />"Me," I replied.<br />"Stalking me? I thought I made it clear, I don't want anything to do with you," Mike said firmly.
<br />"I know, I know. It's just - I wanted to tell you something," I told him, walking closer to him.<br />He sighed.<br />"I don't wanna hear it, ok? I'm going home," he said, obviously irritated.<br />"No, wait! I have to tell you, Mike. It's important!" I insisted.<br />"You broke a nail?" he said unkindly. I put my head on one side, not smiling at him.<br />"No," I answered. "No, what I wanted to tell you is - I'm changing!" <br />"Gemma, I didn't really wanna know that... Guys are different to girls... That crap makes me feel uneasy," said Mike. He was being serious, but I couldn't help giggling.<br />"I don't mean those kinda changes!" I laughed. Mike didn't laugh back, he just rolled his eyes.<br />
"I mean, I'm changing the way I... Look. I'm gonna stop with the black stuff and the punk music," I said, hoping he would smile.<br />He just looked down and shook his head.<br />"Great," he mumbled, and he turned and walked away.
<br />I stared after him, confused. I wanted to call after him, but the words just stuck in my throat.<br />Suddenly, the door to the house opened again, and a guy with messy black hair and bright green eyes walked out, looking at a piece of paper with something written on it. It looked like some sort of flyer. He walked out through the gate, but he looked up at me and then looked around.<br />"Can I help you?" he asked, when he'd turned back to me. I thought it must look a little weird, me just standing there outside what was presumably this guys' house. <br />"Uh... I... Are you... ? Do you know Mike?" I stuttered. <br />"Um... " He began. "Can I help you?" he repeated. I sighed. 'Idiot,' I thought wearily.<br />"Okay, okay, listen very carefully, man," I said. "Do. You. Know. Michael. Pritchard?"<br />The boy listened, and then squinted at me and stood up straight. Then he said just as slowly,<br />"Yes."
<br />"Great!" I squealed. "Could you tell me where he lives?" I asked eagerly.
<br />He said in exactly the same tone as before,<br />"No." <br />I frowned at him.<br />"Why can't you tell me?" I said like a five year old.<br />The boy shook his head.<br />"You ask too many questions," he said, and then he walked off, looking at the paper again.</p>
