the truth(27)

The air outside was cold. A biting wind howled through the nearly empty streets, rustling leaves and carrying the distant hum of city life. Michael walked with his hands buried in his pockets, his head tilted downward. His mind was a chaotic storm, replaying the fight with Ethan over and over.

His heart still pounded in his chest, not from anger anymore, but from exhaustion.

"Damn it..."

He couldn't shake the look on Ethan's face—the moment of hesitation, the shock in his eyes when Michael had thrown that punch. It wasn't just a fight. It was something breaking. Something important.

He turned the corner to his street, his house looming in the distance. The warm glow of the porch light felt like a mockery of the cold pit in his stomach.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.

Michael barely acknowledged his parents as he entered the house. He kicked off his shoes and headed straight for the stairs.

Mom: "Oh! Michael, dear son, welcome back!"

Dad: "How was school?"

Michael ignored them. He wasn't in the mood for fake pleasantries. He just wanted to be alone.

He climbed the stairs without a word, his footsteps heavy against the wooden panels.

Behind him, his parents exchanged puzzled glances.

Mom: "Huh? Strange… Why did Michael just ignore us?"

Dad: "Something must've happened. Let's go talk to him."

They followed him upstairs, stopping in front of his door. His mother knocked gently.

Mom: "Michael? Can we come in?"

A pause. Then—

Michael: "No."

His voice was flat, emotionless.

His parents frowned at each other before his father sighed and pushed the door open anyway.

Michael sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over, his fingers tangled in his hair. His room was dimly lit, the only light coming from his desk lamp. Papers, books, and a few stray pens were scattered around—evidence of his usual messy habits.

Dad: "Hey, Michael… What happened? Why are you acting so strange?"

Michael exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.

Michael: "Well, I may have… gotten into a fight with Ethan."

His parents stiffened.

Mom: "What?"

Dad: "A fight with Ethan? How?"

Michael leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.

Michael: "I got a bit emotional. Some things happened. And I… accidentally got into a fight with him."

He paused before adding—

Michael: "Oh. And I got suspended for a week."

Silence.

Then—

Dad: "Suspended for a week? Oh, goddamn it, Michael, what have you done?"

His mother pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply.

Mom: "Michael… you know how important your education is."

Dad: "For this one week, you better think about your actions. And more importantly—think about how to apologize to Ethan."

Michael scoffed.

Michael: "Oh, don't worry. I'm already thinking about how to apologize to Ethan."

His parents' expressions softened slightly.

Mom: "And… you're thinking about your actions too?"

Michael tilted his head, considering.

Michael: "Yeah. I am thinking about my actions."

His father nodded approvingly.

Then Michael smirked.

Michael: "But I'll probably do it again."

His parents groaned in unison.

Dad: "Ah, of course. Of course you would, Michael. We can never teach you anything, huh?"

Michael chuckled, his voice dry.

Michael: "Don't worry. You already taught me a lot."

He paused.

Michael: "I just taught myself more."

His parents exchanged looks—half-exasperated, half-amused.

Mom: "We should've expected that response."

His father sighed, shaking his head with a wry chuckle.

Dad: "Yeah, I give up."

They both left his room, closing the door behind them.

Michael stared at the ceiling, his smirk fading.

"How do I even begin to apologize?"

He clenched his fists.

"Damn it, Lisa."

His jaw tightened as her face flashed in his mind. The way she always stared. The way she always watched. What was her deal, anyway?

"She probably enjoyed seeing me snap."

He groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"Whatever. I'll deal with her later. First, I have to fix things with Ethan."

The cave's fire crackled softly, illuminating Dakota's face as he finished his story.

The group sat in stunned silence.

Henry was the first to react. He exhaled, shaking his head.

Henry: "Damn, Dakota. Your emotions were really in shambles, huh?"

Mia frowned, crossing her arms.

Mia: "You fought your own best friend."

Dakota smirked slightly.

Dakota: "Yeah. I did. And I regretted it."

Luna narrowed her eyes.

Luna: "Did you apologize to Lisa?"

Dakota chuckled, rubbing his neck.

Dakota: "Technically? Yeah, I apologized to everyone."

Luna wasn't convinced.

Luna: "That didn't answer the question."

Dakota sighed.

Dakota: "Fine. I apologized in front of Lisa, but I didn't actually apologize to her."

Mia raised an eyebrow.

Mia: "But she was part of the group."

Dakota shrugged.

Dakota: "Yeah. But when I said 'sorry,' I meant it for them, not her. Lisa didn't know that, though. So… whatever."

The group sat in contemplative silence, letting the story settle.

Henry finally chuckled, shaking his head.

Henry: "Man… I don't even know what to say. You really lost it."

Dakota leaned forward, his smirk widening.

Dakota: "Oh, and if you think that was bad..."

The fire flickered, shadows dancing against the cavern walls.

Dakota: "In high school? That's when shit really went downhill."

The group exchanged glances.

Liam exhaled.

Liam: "Oh, god. Here we go."

Mia smirked.

Mia: "Of course. You and Michael—always making jokes, no matter what kind of situation it is."

Dakota leaned back, stretching his arms with a lazy grin.

Dakota: "Of course. It's in my nature."

His eyes gleamed mischievously.

Dakota: "It's in my nature to joke about things. Even if it gets extremely serious."

The group laughed, the tension in the cave easing slightly.

The flames crackled. The cave walls whispered.

And somewhere, in the shadows of Dakota's mind… the past was far from done haunting him. Yes it was very far from done haunting him, every time he See's his parents and past friends he gets immediately sad... And remembers that moment, the moment which his life turned upside down.