Back to You(47)

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind if you think I’m watching that.”
Lauren dropped her hand to the bed, tilting her head at him. “Please?” she said softly, and for a brief second, something that resembled sympathy flickered behind the contempt in his expression. “It will make me feel better. Just stay and watch it with me for a little while. You don’t have to watch the whole thing.”
Michael stared at her for a second. “Did you practice that whole pathetic thing in the mirror before I got here?”
The corners of Lauren’s mouth twitched, and he exhaled heavily. “Fine,” he said, pushing off the dresser and extending his hand.
Lauren handed it to him, not allowing herself to fully gloat until his back was to her and he was putting the movie into the machine.
He hit play and walked back to the foot of the bed, sitting down and folding his arms.
The lyrics to “Be My Baby” filled the room as the opening credits played in front of black and white slow-motion clips of Kellerman’s dance instructors dirty dancing in the clubhouse.
“Well shit,” Michael said after a minute. He turned toward her, quirking his brow. “Whatcha got me watching here, Red?”
Lauren shook her head as he added, “You know, if our school dances looked like this, I might go.”
She was attempting to ignore him, her eyes pinned on the screen over his shoulder, but as soon as he realized she wasn’t going to give him a reaction, he got up.
Against her will, Lauren’s eyes drifted from the television to where Michael now stood, both hands clasped behind his head as he gyrated his hips, biting his lower lip.
Lauren pressed her lips together, trying her hardest not to react, but then he bent his knees, dropping a bit lower as his gyrations grew more pronounced, and one of the hands that was behind his head dropped to spank the air in front of him.
“Lauren?”
She nearly jumpXck you toed out of her skin at the same time that Michael straightened abruptly, his arms dropping to his sides as he whipped around to face her door.
Her father stood in the doorway, his arms folded. “Do you want some tea?”
Lauren knew the question was directed at her, even though her father’s eyes were pinned on Michael.
“No, I’m okay Dad. If I need anything, I’ll call down, okay?”
He looked at his daughter and nodded with a smile, turning to shoot daggers at Michael before he pushed the door open a little farther and walked back down the hall.
As soon as she heard his footsteps on the stairs, Lauren burst out laughing, falling back onto her pillows. But within seconds, her laughter transformed into a nasty, hacking cough.
When she was finally able to catch her breath, she glanced up to see Michael standing next to her bed, holding out the glass of water from her nightstand.
“I don’t even feel sorry for you right now,” he mumbled, and Lauren laughed again, sitting up and taking the water.
“Oh come on,” she said, taking a small sip. “That was hilarious.”
“How many more times is he gonna come up here?” Michael asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Now I remember why we always hang out at my house. Who cares if my mom is always drunk? At least she leaves us alone.”
“Stop,” Lauren said, leaning over to smack his shoulder. “You know that was hilarious.
“I know your parents hate me.”
Her smile dropped. “No they don’t.”
Michael looked at her, clearly unconvinced, and she added, “My dad just gets nervous with me spending so much time with a boy.”
“You mean spending so much time with this boy. It’s okay. I get it.”
Lauren sighed, leaning over to place the glass of water back on her nightstand.
“Cheer up, Red. At least your mom does her best to tolerate me.”
She exhaled heavily. “My mom just kind of agrees with whatever my dad says, even if she secretly disagrees.”
Michael looked down, nodding silently.
“My little brother loves you,” Lauren offered.
“Yeah, well,” he glanced up at her with a crooked smile. “He’s too young to realize I’m an *.”
“Stop it,” Lauren said, her voice no longer playful. “You’re not an *.”
“Yes I am,” he said dismissively. “Are we gonna watch this movie, or not?”
Lauren looked at him for a second, knowing it would be a waste of time to try and argue with him. She sighed again, scooting over on the bed, and Michael slid a bit farther on, sitting back against the headboard.
They watched in silence for a few minutes, and every so often, Lauren would steal a glance at him. His eyes were on the screen, but his expression was blank. She had no way of knowing if he was actually watching or if he was lost in his own thoughts, until he finally said, “This d-bag waiter. The college kid. What’s his name?”