CHAPTER 15
DAUGHTER DEAREST

MICHAEL almost didn't believe what Coraline was asking.

"I know it's super last minute," she apologized, pressing her back against her closet door. "But my school's Winter Ball is next week and I can't just show up without a date. I've been banking on this dance since senior year started as a way to secure my position as a possible prom queen." Pushing herself off the door, Coraline rubbed her hands together nervously. "I need to graduate this school as a somebody, Michael, which means planning ahead to win prom queen. I won't let all these people remember me as a psycho. I just won't."

He sat on her green comforter and looked to his hands. Her reasons seemed justified, in a true Coraline fashion. He knew that she was kind and didn't judge others anymore, but this was one of those moments when she decided to be superficial. He didn't hate her for it – in fact, he admired that she was so determined to gain power again. He just hoped they didn't lose each other in the process.

"Are you sure you want me to go with you?" Michael asked, quirking a brow upward. "If this ... Winter Ball is so important, isn't it a bad idea to bring the town's local Satanist?"

Coraline smirked, walking forward and clutching his large hand. Her fingers curled over his own while her thumb caressed his palm, allowing her icy temperature to meet his warmth. "Fuck 'em," she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips against his own, but refusing to seal it.

Michael liked kissing Coraline – he really liked it. It sent his blood pumping and made every hair on his arm stand up. And when she baited him with a kiss, it made him annoyed. He watched her lean away with a frown. He had never wanted to kiss anyone before, but her cherry lip gloss always tasted really sweet and he liked the way she made butterflies invade his stomach.

"You look nervous," she glowered. "It doesn't bother me if someone recognizes you. As long as I'm there and showing myself off, I won't let anyone give you shit." He was still frowning towards her, causing her to sigh. "If you're that anxious about someone noticing you, why don't you just wear a disguise?"

Michael's jaw shifted. "A disguise?"

"C'mon," she said, pulling him to his feet. Coraline shoved him down in the seat in front of her lit-up vanity mirror. "You already wear all black, and I'm guessing you would be doing the same for the dance. So why not make you look like – uh – I don't know ... an extra member of My Chemical Romance?"

He narrowed his eyes with confusion as she searched through the makeup covering her vanity. Sifting through eyeshadow palettes, she found the big one that she was looking for, and noticed his perplexed expression when she turned. "Just go with it," she scoffed.

Michael looked down at the warm-colored shadows pressed into the palette. They were both eyeing the same shade in particular. Their stares met, and Coraline smirked. "You like the red?" He nodded at her question, and she dipped her finger into the shadow. Normally, she would grab a brush, but couldn't find her case at the moment. Bright pigment covered her finger as she reached forward, smudging the red in the inner corners of his eyes. Michael twitched slightly.

Coraline debated on covering his whole lid with red, but decided against it. The inner corner shadow was weird, but she was kind of into it. "Keep your eyes shut," she murmured. Spinning him to face the mirror again, Coraline sat on his lap and hooked an arm around his neck. "Okay," she squealed, "open your eyes."

Michael opened one eye, and then another. He turned his head the side, viewing all angles. He liked the red. It was a tad bit ridiculous, but he liked the mystery behind it. He chuckled then, glancing to Coraline's happy expression as she sat in his lap. "See?" She asked. "It's like you have an entirely new identity."

"You're the funniest person I know, Coraline." Michael giggled, brushing her hair off her shoulder, electricity flowing in his touch. "It makes me look mysterious, like those people who wear masks in the Purge."

"So ... is that a yes?" Coraline's nose was inches from his. She smiled from ear to ear and Michael felt himself swallow down a lump in his throat. "That you'll come with me?"

Michael looked back at himself in the mirror. If he went to this dance, he would be around the people she went to school with. These were the same people who hurt her after she had her first vision in public. These people made her an outcast. They made her constantly overthink if her actions made her look crazy or not. He would be right in the center of the student body who ruined her. A side of Michael's mouth twitched upward. What could he do to help her?

"I guess I can make it." He glanced back to her face and smiled. Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "This is a pretty good disguise. I might just wear it."

She grabbed his chin with one hand and turned it back to the mirror, pressing the side of her round face against his sharp cheekbone. Coraline grinned at their expressions in the mirror, as her other hand still hung around his shoulder, rubbing circles into his black t-shirt. "Everyone's going to think you're so cool. Even Greg, though he won't admit it." She watched his eyes slide to hers in the mirror. "With you also in a black suit – oh, shit. It's going to look so good with my purple dress!"

Coraline jumped off his lap and sprinted towards her closet. She began to fling clothes to the floor as she searched for her dress. It was in the depths of her dress rack, and she struggled with pulling the hanger off. In the background, she heard Michael clear his throat and say, "Hey, Coraline?"

She finally yanked on the hanger, muttering, "Yeah?"

"Are all the mean people who shunned you going to be at this Winter Ball?"

Coraline spun around, holding the dress limply in front of her. She raised a brow and watched Michael rub away the red eyeshadow with a makeup wipe. She wet her lips, walking closer to the mirror again. "Uh – yeah, they probably are. Anyone who's anyone is going to be there." He turned in the chair to face her as she hung her dress on a coat hanger. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Just wanted to know who to look out for," he shrugged.

"Michael," she frowned, "are you keeping something from me?"

He giggled, and it was so innocent. "That's silly."

"Is it?" Coraline crossed her arms over her chest. "As silly as taking one of my vision journals without telling me? As silly as –"

"Are you mad at me?"

Her heart softened as she stared at him. He sat low in the chair while she stood above him. It reminded her of the power dynamic between them the first time they met. She pursed his lips and said, "No, I'm not mad." She grabbed his hand and raked her hair out of her face. "I guess I was just ... freaking out. I promise I'm not mad."

The alarms were sounding off in her head again, causing her ears to ring, but she ignored them. All she cared about was the warmth Michael's hand gave, as if he were her own personal space heater. She wondered if he ever got cold.

"I'm worried about one more thing, Coraline," he whispered. He had been eyeing their conjoined hands, but eventually lifted his stare. Michael pondered how Coraline Avery could make grey eyes look pretty. "I can't dance."

"You can't dance?!" She exclaimed, immediately tugging him to his feet. Michael almost stumbled back, but Coraline successfully caught him, pulling him close to her chest. "I have to teach you!"

She reached over the vanity for her phone, all the while Michael's arms limply hung around her. Just the simplest of touches caused the threads to wrap, dragging them closer to each other. Coraline scrolled through her music, eventually landing on an old song her mother used to sing to her at bedtime. She threw her phone back down on the vanity as the upbeat tempo of Bruce Springsteen's, "Hungry Heart," blasted from her tiny speaker.

Coraline grinned up at him. "Put one hand here," she instructed, placing his right hand on her shoulder. "And then give me your other." He slapped the left hand down on her palm, and she gripped it tightly. "This is a pretty happy song, right? It's different than slow dancing, which is basically just swaying in place. So we're just going to ..." She bit her lip before they began to tilt back and forth, Coraline leading him in two different directions.

Their chuckles filled the air. Coraline certainly wasn't a dancer and her instructions showed that, but Michael didn't care. He simply liked being with her, and holding her hand. The dimples in her freckled cheeks made him want to kiss her again. Her happy expression was contagious, and that was scared him.

Coraline rocked them back and forth, giggling ferociously. Her speakers raged on: Everybody's got a hungry heart! She leaned up, brushing her nose against his own, and Michael felt like his ribcage was going to explode from his chest. These feelings were terrifying; they weren't supposed to be there, but they were and he wasn't keen on stopping them, whether he was the Chosen One or not. Miriam couldn't stop them.

A knock sounded from behind them. Coraline immediately looked over her shoulder, spotting her mother from a crack in the doorway. She let go of Michael's hands quickly – too quickly for his liking – and shut off the music.

"Hey," Coraline barked in a whisper. "I thought I asked you to stop lingering by –"

"I wasn't lingering, dear daughter." Francesca smirked and adjusted her work blouse. Coraline's gaze went down, noticing how her mother had opened up her shirt a bit more.

Cocking a brow upward, Coraline was tempted to ask just why Francesca decided today was the day to be promiscuous at work, but her thoughts were interrupted by her mother. "Someone is here to visit you. You should come downstairs."

"Visit me?" Coraline looked back at Michael for a moment. "I'm busy," she replied, eyes still lingering on the blonde boy. "Can you tell them that I can –"

"Coraline," her mother interrupted, expression growing serious. Coraline had only seen this emotion once before in her childhood, and she hoped to whatever God was out there that this didn't have to do with her father. "This is important."

Coraline's jaw shifted. "Mom, I'm –"

"Francesca, can you just let me see her?"

The door opened wider, revealing the body of a man she hadn't seen in years. Jacob Avery sent his daughter that same charismatic smile, leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom in one of his expensive suits. His hair was long, but still elegant, and he now sported a dark beard on his chin. Coraline's arms fell. Her mind swam with questions. This wasn't real.

"Hi, Coraline," her father greeted. "Can we talk?"

•••

Michael almost killed Jacob the second he tried laying a hand on Coraline. Yes, he knew he was her father, but he also remembered the story Coraline told him. He remembered how her father left them with nothing, for someone else that Coraline assumed was much younger and unmarried. Jacob Avery sent a bomb off in Michael, one that he found hard to control. Coraline urged Michael to go home and think about suits to rent. Michael wanted to criticize her for thinking that during this time he would be looking for tuxes, but he left her house without a word.

Coraline wished her visions had warned her about this. God, she wished they had. If she knew, she would've figured a way out of the house that day, anything to get her away from her father's visit. It wasn't like the visions were exactly helping her lately, anyways. All she had been seeing recently were black eyes, highlighted by a disco ball. She wanted this continuation vision to end.

Jacob sat at the head of the dining table, where he used to sit every night for dinner. He had hung his suit jacket on the back of the chair as Francesca poured him a glass of red wine. He originally asked for a beer, causing Francesca to retort, "We no longer keep beer in this house. Not since you left."

Coraline had her arms crossed over her chest as she took the seat at the other end of the table. She tapped her foot against the hardwood floor, already impatient. She watched her father swirl the wine in his glass and sip it, savoring the flavor. Clearing his throat, he said, "That boyfriend of yours sure is a spitfire, Cor. Looked like he was gonna tear my head off from just staring at me."

You have no idea, Coraline thought to herself.

"His name is Michael," she replied, feeling her mother's presence from behind her chair. Coraline's mouth scrunched up as Jacob nodded. "Why are you here?"

Her father laughed nervously. "Can't I miss my daughter?"

"Not after you left."

Jacob parted his lips, glancing to Francesca, who had her hands on her hips. His eyes raked down her body, taking in her work uniform that clung to her in all the places he used to love. He swallowed hard and asked her, "Shouldn't you be going to work? That's what you told me when I arrived."

"Work can wait," Francesca grinned falsely.

He sighed, looking back to his daughter at the other end of the table. "Well, I did come here for something important –"

Coraline raised a brow. "And that is?"

Jacob exhaled heavily through his nostrils. "Cor –" He stopped and corrected himself. "Coraline, I do miss you, even if you don't believe it. You're my only kid. I want you in my life again."

"Then why didn't you stay?" She snapped. Francesca quickly put a hand on her shoulder. "If you're gonna leave, then leave. Don't come back."

"Coraline," he shook his head, "you know that's a personal matter."

Her mouth dropped. "That's not a personal matter, dad! It's about our goddamn family that you abandoned!" She leaned back in her chair, lacing her hands together on the table. "What? Did you only come back because word got around that you're only daughter is apparently schizophrenic? What does your new girlfriend think of that? Or your business partners?"

"No, no, no. That's not what any of this is about!" He smacked his hand on the table. "You're my kid and I fucking miss you!"

Francesca stepped forward. "Watch your tone, Jacob."

Her father opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it. A sigh escaped his lips and he rubbed at his temples. Coraline knitted her brow at his expression. "This wasn't how I expected this conversation to go," he replied, chuckling sarcastically.

"Well, we didn't expect you to be here," Coraline spat. Her teeth ground together.

"Understandable," Jacob muttered, taking another long sip from his wine. He licked his lips and debated a response. "Look, the bottom line is that I want you in my life again, Coraline. I came here in person to offer you a room at my new house, if you ever want to spend time together again."

Coraline's brow shot up. She really didn't expect that. Glancing to her mother over her shoulder, it looked like she didn't either. Coraline chewed on the inside of her cheek as she turned back to Jacob, who was waiting patiently for an answer. Her hands slipped off the table, and she looked down to her lap, clearing her throat. "Thanks," she said, "but no thanks."

With a quick nod, Coraline pushed out her chair and began to walk away from the table. Jacob looked to Francesca, who was trying to hide a grin, before standing from his seat. "Wait, hey!" Jacob called out, causing his daughter to turn. "Are you sure –"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," Coraline replied with a shrug. "I'll let you know what I want for Christmas, but other than that ..." She sent him a cynical smile. "Don't come back."

•••

A/N: THE WINTER BALL IS THE NEXT CHAPTER HHHHHH I'M NERVOUS

THIS MEME IS FUNNY BUT IT MAKES ME UPSETTI SPAGHETTI

Also I'll say it once and I'll say it again

THIS CHANGED ME