Author's Uncrappy Crap:
Last chapter! I'm so sad. :\ But at least I've been close with my characters. :D To answer your questions, nope, Michael and Keller will not have any sequel. I thought about it, but it's time to let them go. It won't be The End, people! Who knows? In my other stories, they might be featured and casted as supporting characters! Yay!
Now, you guys are asking what book Imma write next, right? Well, it's something I've been thinking about (and partially working on writing) it for a VEEEEEERY long while now, but just didn't have the guts to post it because it might suck. But I'm working on it so hard! I think it could really be great, as what I think inside my head. It's something different from SMIH. Something unexpected (I HOPE) and, as I said, different. It'll be posted soon! Just please wait for it! :DDD
"WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN?!"
I banged hard on the door, dropping my books and bag carelessly on the cold floor of the second storage room. "Come on! Open up! Open! OPEN UP!"
I heard a sigh from behind, and I turned around seeing Michael look around the ceiling for a vent, just like before. When he found one, he looked at me immediately, silently telling me what I thought we should do.
Oh no. Not again.
When I turned my back on him and started kicking the door, I heard him say, "Come on, Keller. If you really want to get out of here, you have to get up on me and open the vent."
"And you don't want to get out?" I countered, squinting my eyes at him.
For a moment, everything went silent, except for the insanely loud and annoying whir of the vent up the ceiling, hidden a bit from the boxes of Arm and Hammer with Oxy. Then, as I was sure that he wouldn't speak anymore, I turned back around and hammered on the door loudly, shouting.
But Michael called out. "Yeah, I do. With you."
Imagine a bull with super sharp horns and a nose coming up with steam through its nostrils. That was the picture you ought to see me look like at that moment. "Seriously?" I boomed, flailing my arms in the air out of sheer frustration and anger. "Is this some kind of crazy-ass, sick joke you're trying to pull, Cutting?" I demanded, glaring at him.
"I'm not trying to pull anything!" he said, looking annoyed and somewhat offended.
What did he have to act all offended for? (!)
"You lying little bastard!" I accused.
He gaped. "I'm not lying!"
"Well, you are! You wouldn't know that I know you're lying when you think your lie will work on me, now, would you?" Michael and I both looked kind of confused about that because I was literally rambling, but GOD, why did he always had to act like a stupid jerk?
Why does he always have to be such a pansy-ass when he wants to be?
"Why do you always have to be such a pansy-ass when you want to be?" I half shrieked, getting louder and louder now. "You're a hypocrite! You're a lying hypocrite!"
Michael stomped toward my direction and zoomed his face close to me. "We both made a mistake, Keller," he clarified, acting all calm and collected while I was already furiously hysterical.
I pushed him away, stomping my foot and crossing my arms huffily. "And why do you have to always, always make me feel like I'm such a little kid? Don't you patronize me, you idiot!"
"I'm not freaking patronizing you," Michael bit off, clenching and unclenching his fists to release his anger and frustration toward me. "You're plainly acting childish."
I gaped in shock, then all I saw was red. Red, red, RED. "Why, you—!" I grabbed the janitor's items neatly stacked in the shelf beside me, throwing one bottle of detergent and toilet cleaner after another. Unfortunately, Michael was too fast for me. He ducked, he jumped to the side, he swatted the bottles away like he was frigging Spider-Man, for crying out loud! This got me angrier, so I looked for something hard, and I saw a—oh, nice. I was holding a flyswatter.
Well. I could swat this fly in front of me, could I? Of course. "I'll smack you!" I boomed, marching toward him. I raised my flyswatter and swatted his arm and his hips and his thighs and head. I was actually feeling pretty good—until Michael held my wrists in a vise-like grip, looking at me with mad silver eyes.
"Stop it!" he hissed.
I noticed that I swatted his left eyebrow, a tiny cut bleeding on the side. Ha! I breathed hard and fast. "Let. Me. Go," I huffed, squirming away from his grip.
"You know," I sneered, gaping at him, "you are the only guy I know with seriously major bipolar issues! I mean, really? First, you're all flirty with that bimbo Stacey, then when lunch came, you ignored the girls! And now, before I swatted you, you were calm, then you were arguing with me like a child too, and then you're angry! What is UP with you?"
He still didn't let go of me, but his grip loosened. He sighed and finally let me go, sitting on a box. For a moment, I thought he was going to just give up and apologize now, but I was wrong.
"I am not bipolar. You're bipolar. If you think I'm bipolar, then so are you, because you've got attitude problems too even before we hooked up."
I gasped like a fish needing air, stepping away from him, planting my fists on my hips, flyswatter in one hand. "I hate you! This is insane. You're insane." Then I sucked in a breath and the words came out in a rush. "AndIamnotbipolar,youstupididiot!"
"Fine, you're not," Michael scoffed.
"Yes, that's right," I snapped.
"Whatever," he muttered under his breath.
I crossed my arms. "Shut up!" I ground out.
"FEAR THE ALMIGHTY!"
Michael and I both started at the loud, booming voice inside the room, but we saw no one. We looked around.
Then the deep male voice (attempting a scary trait) yelled again. "YOU BOTH WILL PAY FOR—Ow! Grandmama!"
That VOICE. That gravelly, thick, British VOICE.
Suddenly, I backed away and sat behind the door. Unbelievable! I thought madly.
"Grandmama, this is all your doing all along. I knew I felt your evil presence," Michael said sarcastically, placing his hands on his hips. "How the hell did you—"
"Frederick, Vivian, Emerson, and I—"
"HI, PEOPLE!" Emerson and Viv said in chorus, giggling hysterically.
The dowager cleared her throat, shushing them after. "As I was saying, the four of us arrived here two days ago. We've been staying at Vivian's house, planning about all this. I asked Frederick to put the note that we so cleverly wrote inside Kelly P-something's locker as to not let you have any quick suspicions. Then he also placed one inside Michael's locker, with no 'purposeful' mistake. Vivian and Emerson therefore spied on you, Keller, and when you reached the storage room, finding Michael waiting inside, they both pushed you in. Frederick set up the camera inside that room you're locked in while everyone was busy with their lessons."
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I screamed at them from somewhere in the room. I waved my flyswatter in the air toward their voices menacingly. "If you don't let me out here, I'll swat Michael like a fly! I already did! But do you want me to repeat that again? Emerson, Fred, Lady C, he's your relative! Viv, your friend. I can do it again!"
Michael only stared at my flyswatter, then carefully placed his hand on his left eyebrow that had a cut, wiping the blood away with a finger. It was dry blood. I felt something—like guilt, but I didn't care. I could hit him over and over! It felt good.
"Not unless you and my grandson make up," Lady Cutting said tartly.
The three other traitors with the old windbag was snickering in agreement.
"We can see you, but you can't see us," Emerson's voice rang in the room. They laughed, except Lady C, who shushed them.
"Just leave us alone," Michael snapped, looking everywhere for the camera. Of course, he didn't see it, so he just exhaled in frustration and sat on a box behind him.
There was some bickering in the dowager's place, Emerson, Viv and Frederick arguing about something. "I want to watch!" Viv protested.
"But they should have—"
"No, we should listen to make sure they don't kill each other! Or, I mean, to make sure Keller doesn't kill my brother."
"TURN OFF THE BLOODY CAMERA!" the dowager boomed, thumping her cane.
"I hate you," I hissed at Michael, who was massaging his aching body and head from my murderous swats. I loved my flyswatter.
"And I'm sorry."
I snorted. "You said that before, but you broke that apology."
Michael gaped at me. "That's because you tested me to see if I care about you! You heard me talking to my mother's grave about you, then you still went on with that freaking plan with Anthony"—he was sneering dangerously now—"making me believe that he was about to rape you!"
"I know what I did was wrong, okay?" I told him huffily. "But still! After I aplogized to you for God knows how many times, you went away without saying good-by to me and left Kent for London." I felt a pang in my chest, but I stood my ground, pursing my lips in an angry line as I watched him.
He looked at me and sighed warily. "I left because I couldn't believe you didn't trust me after we've been through. Don't"—he said, raising a hand to stop me from setting up a massive retort on him—"Just let me explain first, please." When I just crossed my arms, my flyswatter on the floor beside me, he spoke again. "I felt like you didn't trust me enough, so that's why you still went on with your plan. Did you know how much that made me feel angry and depressed?" It was a rhetorical question, so I just glared at him. "I just can't believe you, Keller. Why did you have to do that?" He paused, then began again. "So I left for London, to have some time to be alone."
I groaned. "Yeah, you had some time, all right," I told him sarcastically. "Every part of England knows that you're free from me already. You told them so! Then that wasn't enough for you—you went out with several gorgeous girls. I even saw in one of the hundreds of magazines you were featured in that you're making out with this brunette chick outside a club! You think I didn't feel hurt, as you are with me? Think again; because after days of waiting for you to come back, only to hear or read the news that you're with another slut, I gave up. I give up, actually. So when I was certain you'd never come back to Kent, I booked the next flight home. I never wanted to see you again, but then you showed up with that freaking arrogant presence of yours."
"I had enough," I mumbled, looking away from him. I felt like tears were going to come out of my eyes, but thank God it didn't come. "I simply had enough."
I heard him swallow, rubbing his hands on his thighs. "I know...and I feel so terrible about that. You don't know how guilty I felt when I heard the news that you were no longer in Rossington Park. I..." He looked away as well, looking anywhere but me. He choked, "I'm a jerk. I—I thought that if I went out with my friends in London, I'd feel okay again. I thought that when I went out with other girls and flirted with them, while knowing that you're still in Kent, I'd be able to forget about what happened and...you. I'm sorry that I didn't accept your sincere apologies. I'm also sorry that I was such a jerk for not coming back to you, knowing that you were still in Rossington Park, waiting agitatedly for me. Nothing worked, Keller. Whatever I did to try to forget, you always show up in my head, making me feel so guilty."
I pinched my lips harder as I felt them quiver.
Michael gave a shaky breath. "And I know that you're still really mad at me for kissing Natalie back when we had our finally shoot. I—I know that what I did was wrong, no matter what excuse or apology I made. I left her immediately when I snapped back to the present, knowing that what I was doing with her was wrong. I was kissing her in front of the whole DKNY crew and...and you. I never loved Natalie, Keller. You—"
"Then why did you still kiss her when you know you're already engaged to me? You said you never loved her, but why did you kiss her, Michael? Why?" I snapped through gritted teeth, my hands gripping my crossed arms tighter.
This time, I looked at him with such fury and hurt, the tears finally coming out. I waited.
He stared at me with sad, guilty silver eyes. "Because I got idiotically carried away. Because when she kissed me, I felt something strange inside me. Not love, just something I couldn't fathom. When she kissed me, I admit...I kind of liked it. I remembered me and her, but then I stopped like someone hit me in the chest. Then I knew it was wrong. It was so wrong."
I blinked my tears away. I thought he'd give a stupid excuse such as I don't know why I kissed her. I don't know. I just don't, Keller. But you have to believe me, I love you! Which would be terribly pathetic.
But he explained differently. It was hurtful to know that he liked kissing Natalie and that he got carried away, remembering the way they were before he and I started loving each other. But he was honest about it. And that was something most guys who were usual jackasses like him could never do. Still. I was so hurt, I tore my gaze away from him and wiped my tears away with the back of my hand.
"I'm sorry, Keller," he said quietly. "I understand now that you went on with your plan with Anthony because you want to really believe and know how much I care about you. How much I'd do to protect you. And I'm so sorry for deserting you and trying to forget about you and everything that happened between us." Michael placed a hand on his forehead, hearing his little intone of a scowl when he touched his eyebrow with a cut accidentally. "I came back here in California to see you again. I was ready to apologize, forgive and forget. But everytime I saw you or pass you by, that moment in the forest near my mother's grave came back haungting me. And I couldn't help but feel anger wash over me again. But then when I got home one night, I thought things over.
You did what you had to do to test me because you loved me"—I couldn't help but hear the way he said love in the past tense—"and that it was just a ploy to get me. And what I did with Natalie was an actual thing. You have no right to apologize anything to me for. I'm the one who made the mistakes. And I hate myself for what I did."
Then he went silent, and I was silent, and everything was silent.
Except for the stupid whir of the vent.
I was stunned. Not because of the vent, but because of what Michael said. Never in my days of knowing him, had I ever heard Michael apologize for anything. And when he was actually apologizing—tease included—he always didn't mean them, and started making fun of me again. But when he explained everything, and claiming that he was the real jerk and the one who was really at fault, I was shocked. I was about to speak, but he spoke again.
"I know you'll think I'm such an ass for saying this, but I just want you to know that you're the first girl who made my life upside-down and a living hell ever since we started that blind date created by Fred and Viv...but that's not all. You're the girl who is a match for my attitude. You're the only girl who set me on edge yet I can't seem to take you off my mind. You're the only girl who spoke truthfully about me and is not afraid to stand her ground when I mock or vex you. And...and I just want to let you know as well that you're the only girl I ever love and care about." He gazed at me. "I understand that you loathe me more then ever. I'll also understand if you don't accept my apology. It's...it's okay if you hate me so much, you'll not give me a chance again. I'll understand everything completely.
My father and I started to drift apart when my mom died. He loved her so much, you know? I don't know...he just turned away from me and just sent me to boarding school and gave me tutors and then just two years ago, he threatened me of disinheritance if I didn't have anyone to marry. But we're okay now. Because of you. You showed him love again. He felt bad for you when you were in Rossington Park, waiting for me but I didn't come home for you. He got angry at me when I came back there, seeing that you were no longer there." He laughed, but it was a laugh that didn't encourage you to join in. "We're trying to patch things up.
Anyway, when my mother left me and Emerson at the age of thirteen, she told us quietly all the time that we should find true love. That we should find that person who could make us set on edge but all the while care about. She always told us that if we ever find that cetain someone, we should never do anything to let them go, because the person you love and hate at the same time is someone worth it."
I noticed his eyes were searching mine, those silver depths slightly glossier than before. "But I now realize that when you love someone...when you truly love someone, you should let them go when that person you love doesn't want you back after doing something so wrong and stupid. And that's what I'm doing. I'm letting you go, if that's what you want, Keller."
Before I could speak and tell him that yes, he was a jerk and that he hurt me so bad, but I still love him, he stood up from the box he was sitting on and looked around the room. "Grandmama," he said warily, "I know you heard what I said. Every word. I'm done. Let Keller and I free out of the room. I'm tired of your schemes right now. Please."
When there was no sound, Michael groaned and snapped, "Let us go, now."
As if they knew what would end up all along, I heard the doorknow rattle. Michael came toward me and extended his hadn for me to grab. I looked at it and let him help me up. When the door finally opened, and Fred, Viv, and Emerson were in the doorway, looking sad and guilty, they parted quietly to let Michael and I through.
I stared at the open doorway, my three best friends, then behind me, seeing Michael looking away from me, waiting patiently for me to go. My lips shook, then I placed my hand on the knob and banged the door shut, this time locking it from the inside. I turned to face Michael, who had shock written all over his handsome face.
"I can't believe you're giving up so quickly!" I yelled at him. I poked his chest. Hard. "I can't believe that you're just going to give me up that easily! How DARE you, Cutting!" I hissed.
"But, I thought—"
"I don't care what you think," I bit off. "What about me? Do I have any say about this? No? Well, you're wrong," I said through gritted teeth. "I still love you, you moron. Does that not have any meaning to you? I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU!" I screamed in his face, punching his arm. I was so angry and offended that when I zoomed my face toward Michael, I began to sneeze.
On Michael's collar.
Crap. Was I allergic to my own partner? (?)
I began sneezing again. But when I stopped, I saw Michael staring at me, a curved grin plastered on his face. He looked happy yet surprised. "You forgive me?" he asked in bewilderment.
"Of course, I do!" I snapped, stomping his foot. "But it's going to take a while about that offending thing you were planning on doing a while ago. I can't believe you were going to give me up!"
He scowled and yelped from the stomp I did on his innocent foot, but when the pain was gone, he began laughing.
"Stop laughing," I mumbled, crossing my arms.
"No! It's just..." He grinned wider now. "I'm just so happy."
I started, but then I saw that face of his full of joy and love, that I couldn't help but smile. He pulled me in his arms, and kissed my forehead. "I love you," he said, staring into my eyes.
I smirked. "I know."
He quirked an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. "I love you, too."
With a smile, he kissed me on the lips, then pulled back, eyeing me. "It's amazing really, to know that we used to hate each other and now here we are, in love. I think, as corny as this is, that we began to love each other from the moment we started getting locked up in Viv's tiny closet at her birthday party. What's that game? Seven Minutes in Heaven?"
I shook my head.
He looked confused. "I'm wrong?"
I pulled his lips closer and closer to mine. "No," I whispered quietly, "it's Seven Minutes in Hell."
Michael chuckled. "It is, isn't it?" he queried.
But I didn't have time to answer. I wasn't planning on answering him anyway. The deal was, we were already too busy kissing in a chaotic storage room I trampled.
It's great, isn't it?
Author's Final Crap: Thank you so much for sticking with me the whole way! Seven Minutes in Hell was a pleasure to write because of you guys! Also, I wouldn't have updated quickly and finished the novel without your support. I am grateful to you so much. See you at the next stop! :D
P.S. I didn't put an Epilogue anymore. I think the ending's just perfect, just the way it is, to end the book. :)