Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) COMPLETE, 01/20/16

Fics using the characters from Roswell, but where the plot does not have anything to do with aliens, nor are any of the characters "not of this Earth."

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sarammlover
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 67, 07/11/1

Post by sarammlover »

Michael....so impulsive. Probably not the best time to be buying a ring.....act now, think later....yikes.

Max....yikes. Seems like he will probably stir up trouble....this isn't good. Not good at all.
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Eva
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 67, 07/11/1

Post by Eva »

And then it starts! Ok, Max is in town. His arrival will provoke a lot of things and I'm hloding my heart at the moment.

Isabel, Isabel, what had you been thinking? That everything would stay the same? That you could play your double life of the best student ever and the one who craves for sex in order to forget everything?
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April
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Part 68

Post by April »

Carolyn:
That's cruel.......Max finally makes an appearance and all he says is "miss me"? Now you hurry back and explain all of this.
Max plays a huge part in this chapter, so you'll get some explanations!
Poor Isabel......she will now learn the consequences of her actions. It was really sad when she was deleting phone numbers from her phone.
Yeah, I thought that scene would really demonstrate how alone she is right now.

fadedblue:
...and there is the April I know and love. Oh man, I'm almost excited for how the crap is going to hit the fan.
Awesome. I specialize in crap-hitting-the-fan parts. :D
And now that Isabel is starting to become as messed up as we know max is, I can only imagine the damage the Evans siblings will do together!
I do have a thing for writing the Evans siblings in a pretty messed up way.

Sara:
Michael....so impulsive. Probably not the best time to be buying a ring.....act now, think later....yikes.
He's definitely impulsive. Although the thought of asking Maria to marry him has crossed his mind before.
Max....yikes. Seems like he will probably stir up trouble....this isn't good. Not good at all.
Max's return is going to have a huge impact on these people, for sure.

Eva:
And then it starts! Ok, Max is in town. His arrival will provoke a lot of things and I'm hloding my heart at the moment.
His arrival is definitely going to change some things.
Isabel, Isabel, what had you been thinking? That everything would stay the same? That you could play your double life of the best student ever and the one who craves for sex in order to forget everything?
You know, I think she probably did delude herself into thinking she could pull off this whole double life thing until the end of high school. But her mistakes have definitely caught up to her now, and her reputation has irrevocably changed.


Thank you for the feedback! I was so eager to get to that part, because everyone pretty much suspected Max would make an appearance at some point. It was a long time coming (946 pages! :shock: ) but here he is.

This part is longer than normal today--I just couldn't seem to find the right place to end it. I'm including a link to "Face Down in the Right Town" by Earlimart when you see :? if you'd like to listen. It's a very cool but not very well-known song.









Part 68







Max’s timing could not have been any more perfect. It was amazing how just having him there was enough to change their mother’s entire outlook. Instead of being upset and angry, she was happy, literally elated to see the son she hadn’t seen in years, the child whom she’d only communicated with through Christmas cards for the majority of his life.

Isabel was glad to see him, too. They weren’t close; in fact, she barely remembered him. But he was her brother, and with him in town, the possibilities were just endless.

She sat at the kitchen counter well into the evening, mostly just listening as her mom and her brother got caught up. Even though Max insisted he wasn’t hungry, Diane fixed up some spaghetti and put a huge heaping plate down in front of him, and he ate up while they all talked.

“Oh, I can barely believe this!” their mother raved. “What a great surprise! Both of my kids, together again. It feels like a miracle.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t mind me just stopping by,” he said as he twisted the noodles around his fork.

“Oh, of course not. You’re welcome here anytime. This used to be your home, you know?”

“I remember.”

“Do you?”

“Well . . . barely,” he acknowledged. “But I remember this kitchen, those monster stairs, my bedroom.”

“It’s a guest room now,” she informed him, “which I hope you’ll stay in tonight.”

“Of course,” he accepted. “Thank you.”

There was a look of astonishment in Diane’s eyes as she watched him, like she just couldn’t comprehend that he was really there, and every once in a while, she just went up to him and hugged him. “I’m so happy,” she said. “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” he agreed.

“Oh, I hope you don’t . . . resent me for not being a part of your life. It’s just, when your dad and I divorced, we thought it was the simplest solution for you to go with him and Isabel to stay with me.”

“It was a good solution,” he assured her. “Worked out well. My life’s been great. Never boring. And it just keeps getting better.”

“Mine, too,” Isabel piped up.

Her mom shot her a look, as if warning her to not say anything about the state of her life right now.

“Dad’s been good, too,” Max continued on. “He got remarried last year.”

“Oh.”

Isabel had to stifle her giggles at the way her mom’s mood quickly took a dramatic shift. In that one word, there was so much lingering resentment and jealousy. And who could blame her? She wasn’t even close to getting remarried, maybe never would. The best she’d had since her divorce had been an affair with the town’s number one playboy.

“He’s busy with work, though,” Max added, as if to make her feel a little better. “It really stresses him out a lot.”

“Oh, I would imagine.”

“He’s still living in Albuquerque, but he’s thinking about moving to Orlando.”

“Well, that would be . . . good for him.” Their mother smiled tersely. “Enough about him, though. I wanna know about what my son’s been up to.”

Oh, if only you knew, Isabel thought, picturing Dylan. She wasn’t going to say anything, though, at least not until she got the chance to ask Max about it.

“Well, I’ve been busy, too,” he said. “With school, mostly.”

“Where are you going to college?” she asked eagerly.

“I just finished up my sophomore year at New Mexico State down in Carlsbad.”

“Oh, you might know my friend Alex!” Isabel exclaimed.

“Alex?” her mom echoed. “Who’s . . . who’s Alex?”

“My friend, Mom. He goes there.”

“He?” Her eyebrows shot up in concern.

“It’s a boy’s name, Mom.”

“Well, it can be a girl’s name, too, sometimes.”

“Relax. He’s a nice guy. Although . . .” She turned her attention back to Max and admitted, “I guess he’s not my friend anymore.” It felt wrong to say that.

“Uh . . . well . . . it’s a big campus,” Max said. “I mean, not really that big, but big enough where you don’t know everyone else. It’s not like high school.”

“Huh, must be nice.”

“It is,” he agreed. “I like it there. I’m studying law.”

“Oh.” Their mother forced a smile and scratched the back of her neck . “Just like your father.”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” he transitioned. “See, Dad’s a little upset with me right now. He really wants me to gear myself towards a joint-degree program for business and environmental law, but I’m more into first amendment law.”

“First amendment,” Diane said. “So that’s freedom of speech and religion and . . .”

“Press, assembly,” he added. “Yeah. I like how far-reaching it is. There’s a lot of different cases you can cover, and I’m pretty passionate about it.”

“But your father’s not. Hmm.” Their mother sounded semi-pleased that her ex was being a jerk. “Well, I think it’s just great. Whatever you feel strongly about, that’s what you should do.”

“I totally agree,” Isabel said, wondering why she couldn’t adopt that same philosophy when it came to her and Jesse.

“Well, thanks,” Max said. “It’s nice to have some support. See Dad and I . . . we’ve been butting heads about this for years now. It’s gotten to the point where . . . well, I just needed to get away for a while. So I thought I’d come here, spend some time with you two, reconnect with the other members of my family.”

“Oh, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” their mother offered.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Isabel agreed. “I mean, Roswell’s not very fun, but I’m sure you’ll find it . . . interesting.” Perfect. This was so unbelievably perfect. When she told him who else was in town, he was going to be shocked.

“I’m sure I will,” he agreed confidently. “It’s gonna be so great to catch up with you guys. I’ve really missed you.”

“Oh, I’ve missed you, too, honey,” his mom said, hugging him again. “I’m so glad things are going well, though.”

“They’re going great,” he reiterated. “How about you, Isabel?”

“Oh . . .” If only he’d asked her that a few months ago. She would have had all sorts of appropriate accomplishments to tell him about. “It’s going.”

“She’ll be attending Princeton in the fall,” their mom boasted.

“Really?” He stared at her in surprise. “Well, that’s . . . that’s amazing. My little sister in the Ivy League. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“I was never that smart,” he admitted.

“Oh, please,” their mom scoffed. “You’re gonna be a lawyer. Of course you’re smart.”

“Well, I do alright,” he said modestly. “I’m no Princeton, though. That’s really impressive, Isabel.”

“Thank you.” It was nice to know that at least someone was still impressed with her.

“You’ve really changed since the last time I saw you. God, how old were we when they divorced?”

“I was four,” she said, “so you must’ve been . . . six-ish?”

“That’s right. Man, last I saw you, you were this little girl with pigtails who liked to make movies about her Barbies.”

“Well . . . I still make movies.”

Their mother cleared her throat loudly, giving her another warning look. Sort of a don’t-mess-this-up-for-me-look. She was trying to impress her son.

“You know what? I’d love to see my old room,” Max blurted.

“Oh, I can show you,” Isabel offered. “Mom, do you mind if I just hang out with my brother for a while? Just the two of us?”

“Oh, well . . . sure, I suppose that’d be fine. It’s not a school night. Oh . . .” She made a face. “But I still have to work tomorrow. All-day open house. I’m so sorry, Max, I’d cancel and spend the whole day with you if I could.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay,” he assured her. “We’ll all go out for dinner tomorrow night. During the day, I’ll just hang out with Isabel. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” Isabel agreed. “We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

“So much,” he emphasized. “I’m sorry I got here so late. I wasn’t even thinking about you having to work tomorrow. I’m sorry I kept you up, Mom.”

“Oh, Max . . .” She cupped his face and kissed his cheek. “It’s more than fine. You don’t know how thrilled I am to see you.” She smiled at him with tears in her eyes.

“You should get some rest,” Isabel told her. Once she was sleeping, she and Max could get into the much bigger events in their lives, the stuff that really mattered.

“Oh, I don’t even know how I’m gonna get to sleep tonight.” Squealing like an excited school girl, Diane hugged her son yet again and said, “If you need anything during the night, just let me know.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Okay. I’m so glad you’re here.” One more hug, and this time she finally left the kitchen and headed upstairs to her room.

“Want any of this?” Max asked, sliding the still half-full plate of spaghetti across the counter. “I’m just not hungry.”

“I’m good,” she said. “Just leave it. I’ll snack on it later.” She popped off the stool and asked, “Old bedroom?”

He nodded. “Old bedroom.”

When they first walked into the guest room, the light didn’t even turn on. Isabel flipped the switch back and forth a few times, and finally, the overhead fan light flickered on.

“Wow,” Max said. “This is . . . different.”

“Yeah.” It was all very floral now. Her mom loved floral bedspreads, floral wallpapers, floral curtains. “What was it like before?”

“Well, the double-bed was a twin bed,” he started, “and there were posters of Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen everywhere. I loved basketball. I had a little hoop set up in the corner over there.”

“I barely remember.” She could picture it, in a fuzzy, blurry way. But not in detail.

“Does it still have its own bathroom?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He made a celebratory fist and pumped it close to his chest. “Yes.”

“It’s a nice room,” she said. “Kinda girly, though. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I just showed up unannounced. I’ll take what I can get.” He walked into the room, probably soaking it all in, the familiarity and unfamiliarity of it, and sat down on the bed, testing it for comfort. “Hmm,” he said, nodding his head in approval.

She shut the door, not sure how she was supposed to transition from casual, lighthearted conversation to something more serious. “So . . .” she said leadingly. “Max. Sounds like you’ve got everything going for yourself. College, law school in your future. You’re gonna be pretty successful.”

“This coming from you,” he said. “Princeton-bound. That’s unreal.”

“Well . . .” She shrugged and sat down next to him. “I’ve been fortunate. Good teachers, good classes . . .”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “They didn’t give you this; you got it on your own. You know it.”

She smiled, loving that he was giving her all the credit. “Well . . . I guess. I was gonna be the valedictorian, too, but I’m not anymore ‘cause of . . .” She trailed off, deciding to keep her little video to herself. Even though they were siblings, and even though interacting with him felt completely natural in a way she hadn’t anticipated, she didn’t need to tell him about that. He’d find out soon enough, from Ryan or some other idiot in town. Whatever.

“ ‘cause of what?” he asked.

“Just . . . this stupid technicality. And I was a cheerleader, too, but that’s over now. Now I’m just . . .” She laughed a little. “Bored.”

“God, me, too,” he said. “I like Carlsbad, but I had to get outta there. I took summer classes last year; it almost ended me.”

“Is college good, though?” she asked. “Like better than high school?”

“Oh, so much better,” he replied. “You get out there and realize there’s so much more to the world. It makes high school seem so . . . small, you know?”

“Yeah.” It really was small, wasn’t it? Just a small part of her life. It wouldn’t even matter in five more years.

“Everything you did, everything that happened, it’s like it’s just . . .” He motioned back over his shoulders. “In the past.”

“Hmm.” She couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about his own past, or if he ever did. “That’s good, ‘cause high school . . . god, it kinda sucked.”

“But . . . good student, cheerleader . . .”

“Cheating ex-boyfriend.”

“Ah, there it is.”

“Yeah.” That was actually the nice way to refer to Michael Guerin. “It’s, uh . . . it’s kind of an interesting story, actually.”

“Well, we’re catchin’ up.” He scooted up on the bed to lean back against the headboard, looking completely at ease, like that was a room he’d never left. “Fill me in.”

“Oh, where to start?” she mused.

“Beginning’s usually a good place.”

She shrugged. “Not much to say about the beginning. We were juniors. I promised I’d never let myself go out with someone like him, but lo and behold, I did. And I actually fell for him. Hard.”

“This loser got a name?”

“Michael.”

“Michael Jordan?” he joked.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“Sorry, I told you, I love basketball.”

“No, Michael Guerin. He’s kind of the town . . .” She trailed off, searching for the right word to describe him.

“Idiot?” Max filled in. “Low-life? Pimp?”

“All of the above, actually.”

“So why’d you waste time on him?”

“Well, because . . . he was cute.” She cringed, feeling like an idiot. “I mean, not just ‘cause of that, but . . . sometimes we really got along, and I always thought he had the potential to be this, like, amazing guy if I could just change him.”

“Oh.” Max grimaced, shaking his head. “Nope, see, that’s where you went wrong. Can’t change a guy.”

“He has changed, though,” she insisted. “He’s different now, in a good way.”

“Because of you?”

She looked down at the bedspread, pinching it in between her fingers. “No, not because of me.”

“Because of . . . someone else?”

Someone you know pretty well, she thought, staring at him. Intimately. “Yeah, someone else.”

“Huh. That sucks.”

“Oh, yeah. The first girl he cheated on me with . . . totally just some random conquest. I could handle that. That’s why, even after I caught him with her last year, I got back together with him this year. Like an idiot. I thought it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Oh, he cheated twice?” Max huffed. “What is he, a retard or something? You’re an Evans. That makes you naturally a step above everyone else. He should’ve been grateful to have you.”

“No, this second girl . . . he didn’t just cheat with her. He fell in love with her.”

“That’s . . .” He winced. “. . . gotta sting.”

“Oh, believe me . . .” She shook her head, feeling furious just thinking about it. She was starting to suspect that Michael and Maria’s relationship was something she would never get over, something she would never be able to move past. No matter how hard she tried, it would always be there, in the back of her mind.

“Is she pretty?” he asked.

“You’d probably think so.”

“Still . . . doesn’t make sense, though. Evanses are genetically blessed. We’re bred to look better than the average human being.”

She laughed at the simultaneous absurdity and truth to that. As arrogant as it seemed to admit it, there was no other girl in that town who looked like her, who had the same type of body, the same face. And Max was the type of guy any girl at school would fall all over. As much as their parents hadn’t gotten along in their marriage, their genes had certainly gotten along well.

“Well . . . forget about him, Isabel,” he suggested. “Sounds like you’re better off without him. Onto bigger and better things.”

“Yeah.” That was true. It was all true, and she knew that. But she still wasn’t satisfied. “Actually, you, uh . . . you haven’t even heard the best part of the story, though.”

“There’s more?” He sat up straighter, exaggerating his intrigue.

“Oh, there’s more. And it just gets better and better. See, this second girl that he cheated with, the one he fell in love with . . . her name’s Maria.”

“Huh.” He didn’t even flinch, just shrugged and declared, “Alright name.”

“Yeah, but she’s just a waitress at this local café. High school dropout, going nowhere in life.”

“Dropout, huh?” He leaned forward, looking genuinely intrigued now. “Don’t know what he sees in her.”

“I know, right? And you know what else I don’t get? He’s totally and completely ready to settle down with her, even though—get this—she’s already got one kid with someone else.”

Max’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Really?”

“Yeah. A little boy. Three years old.” She had to contain her laughter at how uncomfortable he was starting to look. “Name’s Dylan.”

Everything about Max instantly tensed, and the cool brother vibe was instantly gone. He looked so nervous, like a guy on the baby-daddy Jerry Springer episodes or something.

“Small world, isn’t it, Max?” she teased.

“What do you . . .” He cracked a smile, still trying to play it off as nothing. “What do you mean? I don’t--”

“I know, Max,” she informed him. “I know about your past.”

He sprang up off the bed and started pacing around the room. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds as he took it all in, then spun to face her and asked, “How do you . . . know?”

“We put the pieces of the puzzle together,” she explained. “Maria found out I had a brother named Max, and that got her spider sense tingling. So I know. I know all about the two of you, and I’ve even met Dylan.”

“Dylan--” Poor Max. He looked flabbergasted, like he could barely formulate a sentence. “Dylan’s here?”

“Yeah.”

“And Maria . . . she’s here in Roswell, too?”

“In my ex-boyfriend’s bed, probably.”

“Holy . . .” Max squatted, raking his hands through his hair, then quickly stood back up again. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, they’re here. They’ve literally both even been in this house before.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s over you,” Isabel assured him. “It’s all about Michael and Maria now.”

“Michael and Maria,” he echoed. “Maria and . . . Michael? That sounds . . .”

“Disgustingly perfect, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “God, you should see the two of them together. And when Dylan’s there, it’s even worse. It’s like they think they’re some picture-perfect family.”

“What?” Max sounded . . . stunned.

“Oh, yeah. They all live together. Michael’s my age, but he’s totally getting wifed up.”

“They’re married?” Max shrieked.

“No, but they’re heading in that direction. And Dylan’s so confused, half the time he thinks Michael’s his dad.”

What?” Now Max sounded offended.

“And they’re moving to Alabama together, because they think it’s, like, this workable thing for him to go to college there, but I think they’re in for a rude awakening.”

Looking like he’d just been hit by a ten-ton truck, Max staggered back over to the bed and sat down again. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Out of all the places she could be, she’s gotta be in the exact same town I am.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” she asked.

“Years ago. Same with Dylan. I don’t even . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t know what she told you, but . . .”

“She made it sound like you’re this really bad guy, that you’re all into drugs and partying and . . . you know, like you’re a deadbeat dad or something.”

“Well . . .” He sighed in admittance. “Okay, it’s not entirely untrue. I’ve never been there for either one of ‘em. And I did some crazy shit back in the day, back in high school. Maria was one of them. And when she got pregnant . . . I didn’t know what to think, what to do. So I told her to just have an abortion. Problem solved. But she wouldn’t do it. So then I’m stuck with this kid I never wanted . . . and I’m sure he’s a good kid and everything, but . . . I was a kid myself, you know? I was scared; I was confused. I wasn’t just the bad guy.”

“No, I get that,” she said. “I’ve felt . . . really confused lately. About a lot of things.”

“I didn’t even know how to react,” he went on. “I’m sure she’s dragging my name through the mud, though. We didn’t end things on a pretty note.”

“Actually, she doesn’t really talk about you a whole lot,” Isabel informed him.

“Oh.” He frowned. “Really?”

“No, she’s in Michael-land. I’m telling you, Max, it’s all about him. She probably loves him more than she loves Dylan at this point.”

“How is Dylan?” he asked. “I mean, is he . . . is he good?”

She glimpsed it then, a hidden sensitivity, a moment where it was clear that, maybe, on some level, he really did care. Maybe he wasn’t just that scared, confused kid anymore. “Yeah, he’s good,” she said. “He’s really cute.”

“Well, of course. It’s the Evans DNA, remember?”

She laughed a little. “Yeah. Don’t worry, though, Mom’s in the dark.”

“Oh, thank God.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Who does know?”

“Me. And Michael. And my ex-best friend Tess and her boyfriend Kyle. But they’re not gonna tell anyone. They’re on a cloud nine of their own.”

“Interesting,” he said, looking less freaked out and more contemplative now. “So . . . let me make sure I’ve got this straight: Your ex-boyfriend is banging my ex-girlfriend and raising my kid with her?”

She nodded. “Pretty much.”

Max’s brow furrowed in disdain. “It is a small world, Isabel,” he agreed.

“Told you so.” The secrets were out. Now, the question was, what were they to do with this brand new situation they found themselves in? There were so many options . . . “Hey,” she said, feeling more than a little mischievous. “Wanna have some fun?”

He just stared at her for a moment. Then, slowly, a clever smile found its way to his face. It didn’t matter if they had been apart for fourteen years. This guy was her brother. They were one and the same. And given just how small their world currently was, there were just too many opportunities for chaos for either of them to pass up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Dude, I’m pumped!” Kyle exclaimed, practically bouncing out of the school after a particularly early Saturday morning workout.

“Good for you,” Michael mumbled, feeling like a zombie. Kyle was a crazy person, getting up at 6:00 a.m. to work out for three hours straight in the school weight room. Why the hell had he agreed to tag along for the torture?

“I mean, I’m just . . . I feel alive, you know, and ready,” Kyle kept on raving.

“Ready for what?”

“Just the day, you know, for whatever it has in store for me. That’s what a good workout does to me.”

Barely able to make the trek through the parking lot, Michael shook his head. “You like sports way too much.”

“Oh, whatever, man. You like sports, too.”

“Not like you do, though. You take it to another level.”

“Well, it’s my dad’s influence,” Kyle concluded.

“Yeah.” Wasn’t technically the worst influence ever. It beat having a dad who influenced you to try a vast array of alcoholic beverages before you graduated high school.

“I’m gonna work out six days a week this summer,” Kyle proclaimed. “I got it all figured out.”

“Of course you do.”

“I’m gonna head out to Bama and move into the summer dorms in June, take this five-week Spanish class I don’t wanna mess with during the regular semester, work out with the quarterback coach and the other guys in line for the job . . .”

“Which is yours,” Michael interrupted. “Come on, man. You saw how they played in the spring game. You’re better.”

“But they’ve got more experience,” he pointed out.

“So? You’ve got raw, natural talent. They’re gonna go with talent over experience any day.”

“Well . . .” Kyle shrugged modestly. “We’ll see. Anyway, that’s the plan. Workin’ hardcore at it from here on out.”

Michael gave him a look. Had Kyle ever not worked hardcore when it came to football?

“When are you and Maria comin’ down?” his friend asked.

“I don’t know. We found a place, though.”

“Yeah? You should move when I do. Bromance for life.”

Michael chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll probably go . . . end of June, early July.”

“You can work out with me then.”

“Oh, fuck,” he swore, stopping in the middle of the parking lot. “Six days a week? I don’t think so. I’m dead just from today.”

“You did alright, though,” Kyle said. “Although I thought you usually bench about twenty pounds more.”

“I usually do, but man, my sex life . . .”

“Does everything go back to that for you?”

“Yeah. Maria and I tried the standing sixty-nine last night.”

“Ooh.” Kyle grimaced, as if recalling a painful memory of his own.

“Yeah, I still can’t feel my arms. So I was just takin’ it easy today.”

“Hmm.” Kyle poked a finger into Michael’s chest. “See, this is why sex . . . it’s a distraction, man.”

“Then I’m happily distracted.”

“No, but you know, you should really—you should put it away, at least until you make the team.”

“Oh, yeah? You put yours away?” Michael challenged.

“No, but I already made the team. But even so, I told Tess, I said, ‘Listen, we gotta—I gotta focus, you know? I gotta focus on other stuff.’ So we’re tryin’ not to, you know . . . do it so much.”

“Uh-huh.” Michael surveyed his friend skeptically. “And how’s that goin’ for you?”

Kyle made a face and sputtered, “It’s . . . shut up. Whatever, man. Fuck you, at least I’m trying!”

Michael laughed. “Alright, you keep on trying to resist. I’m gonna have as much sex as I want.”

“Of course you are,” Kyle muttered, giving him a friendly shove as he walked towards his truck.

“I can’t help it, man,” Michael called after him over-dramatically. “Sex is my life! It’s who I am!”

Kyle gave him a backwards wave and got into his truck.

Michael got to his car as Kyle drove out of the parking lot, and unfortunately he found that his muscles were even more sore now as he tried to open the door. From what he had noticed since he’d purchased it, it tended to get jammed on the driver’s side sometimes, but usually, if he just pulled hard enough, he could get it open. Not this time. “Jesus Christ,” he swore. This was embarrassing. Luckily there was no one else around to . . .

“Hey, wait a minute!”

He turned around, standing in front of the jammed door. Some muscular, dark-haired guy he didn’t recognize came jogging at him from the front entrance of the school. Probably wanting to know how to get in. Too bad, there wasn’t one, unless you were the football coach’s favorite, like Kyle was, and had access to his keys whenever you needed them.

“Can I . . . help you?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” the dark-haired guy replied. “Name’s Matt. I’m new here.” He held out his hand for a handshake.

Michael shook it hesitantly, worried that maybe this was a gay guy coming onto him. It happened about once a week as a result of his stellar good looks.

“I’m from Carlsbad.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t care.

“Are you the football guy?”

Michael wrinkled his forehead, not used to being called that. “No, you’re probably thinkin’ of Kyle. He just left.”

“No, I think I’m lookin’ for you. Michael, right?”

Michael squinted suspiciously. “Yeah . . .”

“Yeah, you play wide receiver. Isabel told me about you.”

“Isabel?” he echoed. “You know Isabel?” Was this the guy who’d filmed the movie or something?

“Yeah. I toured the school a few weeks ago. She was the one who showed me around. Nice girl.”

“Well . . .” Less nice as of late.

“I mentioned I wanted to try football my senior year. I’ve played basketball before—Jordan’s my idol—but I kinda wanna try something new. When I told her I wanted to be a receiver, she told me you’re the person to talk to.”

“Huh.” It was kind of . . . flattering, in a way. He was the person to talk to? That meant he was the best in town. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, trying to employ some of the trademark Valenti modesty.

“I hear you’re gonna play in college.”

“Possibly.”

“That’s cool, man.” Matt actually looked . . . a little star-struck, which was weird, because they were basically the same age. “Listen, I don’t know what you got goin’ on today, but if you’re willing, I’d love to get some pointers from you. I really wanna . . . I really wanna make the team, you know? Start things out here on the right foot?”

Michael narrowed his eyes, trying to get a read on this guy. Something just seemed . . . off. But it probably wasn’t. He was just a new kid in school wanting football help. But clearly he didn’t know who he was talking to, because Michael had no desire to help a stranger whatsoever.

“Yeah, you know what, I appreciate that you wanna talk to me,” he said, trying to let the dude down easy, “but I just worked out and did a whole bunch of acrobatic things with my girlfriend last night. I’m kinda worn out.” He turned back around and pulled on the car door again. Still no luck. Dammit.

“Here, let me,” Matt said, stepping up beside him. He gave the door one hard pull, and it opened with ease.

Huh, Michael thought, giving him a reluctant second look. Maybe the guy’s got some athletic potential after all. He pushed the door shut again and asked, “You got a ball?”

“Yeah, in my car.” Matt’s eyes lit up with hopefulness. “You’ll help me out?”

He shrugged flippantly. “What the hell? Why not?” It would be nice to know that, once he and Kyle were gone, the football team would at least have some potential to succeed. Besides, Matt seemed like a harmless enough kid. Why not help him out?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

While Maria tried to work, Isabel sat at the counter, giving her the death-stare. Even though Maria wasn’t technically her waitress, every time she walked by, Isabel found something to complain about or some trivial thing for her to do. First it was sending her burger back because it wasn’t cooked well enough. Then it was refilling her soda exactly to the brim. Then it was having her wipe off the counter when the soda spilled over. Then it was Isabel knocking her own second soda over, probably on purpose, just so that Maria would have more to clean.

The feeling of guilt was abating more and more each day. Now, she was really starting to think Isabel Evans was just becoming a flat-out bitch.

“Uh, Maria?” she called. Probably would’ve rang one of those little service bells if she’d had one. “I’d really like some blueberry cheesecake.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Maria gripped the edge of the counter hard, struggling to maintain control of the situation. “I’m not your waitress, Isabel.”

“Sure you are,” Isabel claimed.

“No, remember Agnes, the woman who took your order when you first showed up? She’s your waitress, not me.”

Isabel waved her hand dismissively in front of her face. “Agnes moves like a snail. I want efficient service. Which you haven’t exactly provided me, but you’re a step up from her. Blueberry cheesecake, Maria. Now-ish would be nice.”

“No can do,” Maria told her. “We only have strawberry cheesecake today.”

“But I want blueberry.”

“Well . . . too bad.” Miss Isabel was going to have to understand that you didn’t always get what you wanted.

Isabel huffed. “Is that how you talk to your customers? I wonder what your manager would say.” She started to look around for him, but Maria wasn’t worried.

“You know what? I would just remind him that you and your new ‘friends’ . . .” She felt the need to use air-quotes as she said the word. “. . . verbally harassed me the last time you came in here, and I’m sure he’d understand.”

“Hmm. At least I have friends.”

“At least I have Michael,” she shot back, not really caring about even trying to be polite anymore.

“Ooh, yeah, there you go. Bank all your hopes and dreams on him. That’ll work out.”

“Isabel, why don’t you just leave?” Maria suggested adamantly. “You’ve been here for almost two hours.”

Isabel shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

“No, you’re not.” She happened to know for a fact that Isabel hated the food there. “You’re just trying to annoy me. You’re going out of your way to be a total bitch and make my day all the less fun.”

Isabel leaned forward, glaring at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, Maria,” she fake-apologized. “Out of all the people in the world, I definitely wanna make sure you have fun.”

Maria rolled her eyes, feeling like this was getting her nowhere.

“Although . . .” Isabel leaned back in her seat, smirking. “You’re with Michael now, so I’m sure you’re having plenty of fun. In plenty of different positions.”

“Sure am,” Maria boasted. Although she was still aching from that standing sixty-nine. “But you’re not . . . you’re not jealous, are you?” she countered. “I mean, why would you be? You’ve got the internet guy.”

Isabel stiffened momentarily, and Maria could tell that she’d struck a nerve. She was jealous, not just on a sex level, but on the deeper level. She was jealous that Maria knew what it felt like to be in love with Michael, and she never had.

Feeling like she’d gotten the best of the other girl this time, Maria tore Isabel’s receipt off of her order pad and slid it across the counter. Thirty bucks exactly. That was a whole lot of Crashdown food.

Isabel picked up the receipt, then took her wallet out of her purse and set it down on the counter. It was like she purposefully made sure Maria could see just how much cash she had in there before she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and a ten. Then, as an afterthought, she took out a penny and set it down on the counter next to the rest of the cash. “Keep the change,” she said as she got up and headed out.

Maria stared at the small copper coin, hating that Isabel had gotten the last word like that. Giving her that small of a tip was like the ultimate snub, the ultimate way of asserting that she was better than her. All the work she’d done for her today, all the things she’d put up with, were worth way more than one cent.

The worst part, though, was that she actually pocketed the penny. That made her feel pathetic.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was almost too easy. Getting Michael to go down on the football field and toss the ball around . . . not the least bit challenging. Apparently this guy was a simpleton.

“Alright, let’s try again,” Max said, handing Michael the football. “I’m gonna catch it this time.”

“Whatever you say, Matt.”

Max grinned as he darted down the field. Yep. Good old Matt. That’s who he was. Luckily he and Isabel didn’t look too much alike, or this flimsy story of being the new guy in school never would have worked. He positioned himself at about the fifty yard line, hollering, “Alright, throw it!”

Michael looked rather unenthused as he hurled it in his direction. Max actually tried to catch it, had to lunge to the right a little bit. But football wasn’t his sport, never had been. His dad had made him play back in the fifth grade, and he’d hated every second of it.

“Bad throw,” he muttered inaudibly after he landed on the grass. “Darn!” he said, getting back to his feet. He scampered after the ball, sort of enjoying playing up the façade of bumbling idiot for the time being. It was so opposite of the real him.

“Hey, listen, Matt,” Michael said as he jogged toward him. “It’s not workin’ out. Stick with basketball, alright?” He patted his shoulder, then turned and started to walk to the side of the field, as if he were just done with it.

No way, Max thought, tossing the football over his shoulder. He wasn’t done toying with this guy just yet. “Wanna go shoot some hoops then?” he asked.

Michael turned around slowly, looking a little annoyed. “I don’t like basketball,” he said.

“Or are you just worried you’re gonna get beat?” Max taunted, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to appeal to his competitive side.

“You wouldn’t beat me,” Michael claimed.

“You ever played?”

“Yeah, in middle school.”

“I’ve been playing since the first grade.”

Michael was clearly getting a little riled up, now wanting to be the best at something he didn’t even like. “I’m a natural athlete,” he declared, “Any sport I try, I’m good at. Did pole vault in the ninth grade; I was great. I made it to state wrestling my sophomore year. And football’s my thing.”

“Well, basketball’s mine,” Max said, even though he hadn’t actually played for a couple years. “Come on, I drove by the park on the way here. It looked like there was a court.”

“Yeah.” Michael glared at him, and for a second, Max thought he was putting the pieces together. Recognizing him somehow, or maybe just getting a vibe. But then he remembered that Michael didn’t seem smart enough for that, and he relaxed.

“What’s with you?” Michael flat-out asked. “Don’t you have anyone else around here to bother?”

“You’re the only person I know so far,” Max said, “besides Isabel. Are you two . . . are you two a thing by the way? That day she showed me around, she was staring at you a lot.”

Michael laughed uncomfortably. “No, no, she’s all yours if you’re interested.”

“Oh, no, I’m not,” Max said. “I don’t think that’d be a good romantic combination.” He almost cracked up right then and there but still managed to hold it together. That theater class he’d been forced to take as a college freshman must have paid off, because he wasn’t breaking character. “So what do you say, Michael? You in?”

Michael sighed, looking all sorts of reluctant. But still, he gave in and agreed to it. “Sure, Matt. I’m down for another win.”

Max laughed inwardly, looking forward to turning the tables on this typical high school chump.

The basketball court was a complete role reversal from the football field. Max ran circles around Michael there, scoring on him left and right, only allowing him to make six points. By the end of the game, Michael was sweating and could barely even hobble around anymore. Max hit the fade away shot and exclaimed, “Game!” as it swooshed through the net.

Michael bent over, his hands on his knees, his breath coming in heavy pants. “Shit,” he swore. “I’m tired.”

“That’s ‘cause basketball’s a real man’s sport!” Max slugged his shoulder. Hey, didn’t hurt to rub it in a little bit.

“Really? Is that why women play it, too?” Michael retorted.

“Touché,” Max acknowledged. “It’s constant movement, though, you know. You never get a break.”

Michael staggered over to a run-down bench just off the side of the court, looking like he couldn’t get off his feet fast enough. “No breaks in football, either,” he said.

“Well, sure there are. Like when your team’s on defense.”

“You know what? Football’s America’s sport. You can’t deny that.”

Max sat down beside him, spinning the ball on his right index finger. “No, I guess I can’t,” he conceded. “Hey, you know, maybe I won’t play football next year after all. I could probably really help out the basketball team.”

“Yeah, they suck.” Michael grabbed his water bottle and squirted it over his head to cool himself off.

Max stopped spinning the basketball and set it down between his feet. “Sorry if I’m annoying you, Michael,” he said. “It’s just . . . not easy, you know? Moving to a new town right at the end of the school year . . . it’s kinda rough.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Michael said. “Lived here all my life.”

“Yeah? Ever seen an alien?”

“Just you, Matt. Just you.”

He laughed, even though he didn’t think it was that funny. “I’m sure it gets old, all the little green men crap.”

“Ah . . .” Michael shrugged. “Puts us on the map for somethin’, I guess.”

“Anything else goin’ on here?” Max questioned. “Am I gonna be bored out of my mind here or actually have a good time?”

“Depends what you’re looking for,” Michael told him. “It’s small, compared to some places, but it’s not like it’s a village, you know? At school, everyone knows your business, though. If you’re popular anyway.”

“Which I’m guessing you are.” It wasn’t much of a guess. Isabel had told him.

“I was Snowball king.” Michael smiled momentarily, as if he actually kind of took pride in that fact. “Nah, it’s . . . it’s high school. It’s a joke. But I guess it could be worse.”

“Let’s go, Comets,” Max deadpanned.

“Yeah.” Michael ran his hand through his hair, making it even spikier than it originally was. “Hey, if you don’t wanna play football, I think they’re lookin’ for a mascot. It’s kinda queer, though. Big flamin’ tail, ball on the end. It looks like a dick with one testicle, but it’s not. It’s a comet.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You think I should wear that?”

Michael shrugged. “Somebody’s gotta. And hey, girls love mascots.”

“Okay, yeah, tell me about the girls in this town,” Max segued, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “What do I have to look forward to? Or who?”

“Uh, well, there’s Roxie,” Michael started. “I’m sure she’ll make you feel very . . . welcome.”

Max smirked, almost wishing he’d really have the chance to hit that. Sluts were always the best in bed.

“And then there’s . . . oh, those two freshmen girls. What’re their names? I think I had a threesome with ‘em at the beginning of the year.”

“You think?” Wasn’t that the kind of thing you would be sure about?

“Yeah, I don’t know, most likely. And, uh . . . plenty of other girls to choose from. What’s your range? How young are you willing to go? Freshman? Sophomore?”

“Well, see, I’m old,” Max said. “For my grade. So ideally, I’d love to meet someone who’s maybe . . . hmm, nineteen? Twenty?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Know any hot girls that age?” Oh, this was just too fun.

“A few,” he replied vaguely.

“Hmm. So are you the type who just goes around from girl to girl then, whoever catches your eye?” he asked, hoping his questions weren’t getting too obvious. “Or you got a girl to call your own?”

“No, I got a girl.”

“Really?” He feigned surprise, even though Isabel had given him the entire story multiple times just to make sure he had it straight.

“Yeah, is that surprising?”

“Well, kind of. I wouldn’t have pictured you as the settle down type of guy.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” he admitted, “ ‘til I met her.”

“Must be a pretty good girl then.”

“She is.”

Max smirked, remembering. When he’d last seen Maria, she’d been young enough to still be in high school, though she hadn’t been. She hadn’t known how to put on her makeup very well, she’d had these daringly innocent eyes, and she’d been completely and utterly impressionable. He wondered if she was different now, or if she was still the same. “She hot?” he asked, hoping she at least still had that going for her. He’d always hoped, for her sake, that she wouldn’t be one of those girls who let her looks go downhill after having a kid.

“Of course she’s hot,” Michael said, as if that were common knowledge.

“And let me guess: She’s a cheerleader.”

Michael laughed nervously. “No, no, I think I’ve had my fill of cheerleaders.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “Stereotypes, you know? I just thought with you bein’ a big-time football player, naturally you’d date a cheerleader, but . . . I guess not.”

“They’re too high-maintenance,” Michael said. “I’m not into it.”

“But you’re into this new girl. You think I’ll find a girl like that?”

“Probably not,” Michael replied. “There’s not another Maria out there.”

“Maria,” he echoed. Coming here, he really hadn’t expected to be saying that name so much. “Pretty name.”

“Pretty girl.”

“I’ll bet.” His memories of Maria weren’t all just the bad ones at the end. There had been some good ones at the beginning. Some fun ones. Some sexy as hell ones. And some very distant, unclear ones, because drug use had been a recurring pastime.

“Hey, I’m starved,” Max blurted. “I know you’re probably gettin’ sick of me . . .”

“I got sick of you out on the football field. Now I’m just putting up with you.”

Max chuckled. “I’m really in the mood for a burger. You know any good places to eat?”

Michael didn’t even have to think about it. He instantly looked less tired and more energized than he had all day. “Actually, I do.”

Perfect, Max thought. See you soon, Maria.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

( :? )

Maria came back into the café after eating her lunch in the backroom. Her break had been cut short as a result of two particularly rambunctious five year-olds who had decided that it was more fun to throw their food on the wall than it was to eat it. Hopefully Dylan wouldn’t be like that in two more years.

Agnes, who was filling up the her coffee pot, asked, “How was your break?”

“Short,” Maria replied as she re-tied her ridiculous alien apron around her waist, “but much needed.”

Agnes nodded in agreement, pouring a cup of coffee for . . . herself, by the looks of it. “Your boyfriend came in.”

Maria’s eyes immediately shot towards his usual booth, and a tingle of excitement ran through her when she saw him. He was sitting with somebody else whose back was to her. Probably one of his weirdo friends from school, because it wasn’t Kyle.

Thank God he was here. After dealing with Isabel all morning, there was nothing she wanted to do more than see him.

Well . . . there were some things she wanted to do more, but they couldn’t do any of those things in the Crashdown. At least not when other people were around.

She quickly grabbed a can of root beer for her man and popped the tab on her way over to the booth. “Hey, guys--” she greeted, nearly falling over when she saw just who he was sitting with.

No. Fucking. Way.

She dropped the bottle on the table, and rolled right off the edge and onto Michael’s lap.

“Oh, alright,” he said, picking it up before it all spilled. “That’s . . . hey.” He grabbed a few napkins out of the napkin holder and started patting his lap dry.

Maria just stared at his dark-haired, dark-eyed companion, convinced that she was seeing things. Because there was just no way that he could be there, that he ever would be. Why would he . . .? It didn’t make any sense. “Max?”

He just grinned smugly.

“No, Maria, this is Matt,” Michael incorrectly introduced. “He’s new in town.”

Nothing about him was new. Not to her. “Oh my god.” She felt like she was about to pass out.

“Hey, Maria,” Max greeted. “Long time no see.”

“What?” Michael spat.

“Max,” she said again, without the questioning tone this time. No, she wasn’t seeing things. He was really there. In the flesh. In the place where she worked. With her boyfriend.

What the hell was going on here?

“Wait, this is . . .” Poor Michael. He was more confused than anyone. “Max? The Max?”

“Well, people don’t usually put an article in front of my name,” Max said, “but go ahead.”

“What’re you . . .” Maria took a step back, absolutely stunned, barely able to form a coherent thought. “What’re you doing here?”

Max shrugged. “Just felt like playin’ some basketball. I beat your boyfriend, by the way.”

Maria shot a look at Michael. Why the hell was he playing basketball with Max Evans?

“I didn’t know it was him!” he explained in a rush.

“Played him for a fool,” Max proclaimed, “which wasn’t too hard.”

“No, I didn’t . . .” Michael, for once, had no comeback. He appeared at a loss for words as he sat there with his hands out, his mouth open, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he’d just brought her ex into the building. “What the fuck’s happening?”

Maria had no idea. But just seeing Max there, just be so near him . . . it made her feel like the whole world was spinning off its axis. She literally felt dizzy, lightheaded, like she had to get away. “I can’t . . .” She tried to say more, but all she could do was shake her head and hurry away from the table like a spaz.

“No, Maria . . .” Michael called after her.

She ran through the backroom, but that didn’t feel far enough away, so she went out back behind the restaurant, into the alley, holding her head with one hand and her stomach with the other. Oh god, she was gonna be sick.

Michael came out a few seconds later, wearing a worried expression on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked her as the door swung itself shut.

She whirled around and threw her arms down at her sides. “No, I am not okay, Michael! That’s Dylan’s father in there!”

“I didn’t know,” he insisted.

“I know.” She grimaced. “I know you didn’t know, but . . . what’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know. He just . . . I ran into him up at the school, after Kyle and I got done workin’ out. He said he was a new student, so we started tossin’ the football around, and then . . . he didn’t actually beat me that bad at basketball. I kinda let him win. There was this one shot where I--”

“Michael!” This so wasn’t about basketball.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m . . . Maria, I’m sorry. I didn’t know . . . I never would’ve even . . . if I’d known.”

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m not—I’m not mad at you; I just . . .” She didn’t even know how to put into words what she was feeling. Massive confusion and hysteria, mostly, but Michael was probably gathering that much without her trying to express it out loud.

“What do you think he wants?” he asked, moving closer to her.

“I don’t know.” They kept asking each other the same question, but neither one of them had any answers. “Probably just to piss me off.”

“Oh, well . . .” He scratched his eyebrow, looking her up and down. “Clearly it’s not working.”

“Are you kidding? Of course it’s working!” she snapped. “I hate that guy. I don’t him want here, Michael. Can you just . . .” She inhaled shakily, feeling short of breath, like she was on the verge of a small nervous breakdown. “Can you get him to go? Please?”

Michael pointed to himself in surprise. “Me? You want me to . . .”

“Yes.” She didn’t want to go in there and face him again.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay,” he said. “Yeah, I can . . .” He started backing towards the door. “I’ll tell him to leave.”

“Thank you.” Once he was gone, she could try to forget he’d even been there in the first place.

Michael pulled on the back door, but it locked automatically, so she tossed him her keys. “I’ll be right back,” he promised as he unlocked the door and slipped back inside.

She leaned back against the cold wall and slid down to the ground, a rush of feelings swarming over her. Memories, mostly. Memories of the fear she’d felt when Max hadn’t shown up to the hospital to see Dylan be born. Memories of the betrayal she’d experienced when she realized he wouldn’t be showing up at all. For anything. Not the birthdays, not the holidays. Never.

It hurt to think about all of that again. It hurt so much. Made her shiver, made tears sting at her eyes.

Michael came back out a minute later, her keys dangling at his sides. “He left,” he said.

She stared up at him thankfully. “You got him to go?”

“No, when I went back in, he was already gone.”

“Oh.” Well, better than nothing. In fact . . . yeah, it was probably good that he’d just taken off on his own. This way, there was no big scene. Not that Michael would’ve made a big scene. But if he had, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

He sat down beside her, sighing, and handed her keys back to her. She held onto them for just a second, then dropped them at her feet, not even caring.

Michael put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, glad he was there. Without him, she would have been a crying, screaming basket case right now. He made this whole, weird thing at least a little easier to deal with, just by putting his arm around her.

But she still felt unsettled, unnerved. That strange feeling she’d had last night was back full-force, and now she knew why. Something told her this was not the last she would see of Max Evans while he was in town.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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Eva
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 68, 07/18/1

Post by Eva »

Why Isabel and Max played that game, is beyond me. But what will happen now? That will be the question.
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 68, 07/18/1

Post by keepsmiling7 »

I don't know what to think about Max now.......
Divorce is hard on all members of the family, and I can understand why he was with his father.
But, his history with Maria, and the way he took off leaving her to raise Dylan, doesn't make me very happy with people like that.
Maybe he has his life together better now, especially with the study of law.
But, will he ever honor his responsibility to a son he hasn't met?
Had to laugh at the "girly room".......things had really changed at home.
I CAN NOT WAIT to see what happens next.
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 68, 07/18/1

Post by sarammlover »

Oh F word.....Max is back. Already causing trouble. I knew the innocent guy routine was for show. he is just going to fuck everything up. And now Isabel has a partner in crime. The good news is Michael knows about Max. he knew about him from the very start. That is one less thing standing between them. WHat I don't know is how Max is going to parlay this into something that benefits him! Will be an interesting time for this gang.
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Part 69

Post by April »

Eva:
Why Isabel and Max played that game, is beyond me.
Honestly, they're just having fun and getting a laugh out of everything at Michael and Maria's expense.

Carolyn:
I don't know what to think about Max now.......
Divorce is hard on all members of the family, and I can understand why he was with his father.
But, his history with Maria, and the way he took off leaving her to raise Dylan, doesn't make me very happy with people like that.
Maybe he has his life together better now, especially with the study of law.
But, will he ever honor his responsibility to a son he hasn't met?
Max is . . . complex. I've tried to write him in a way where he can't just be pigeon-holed as good or bad.

Sara:
WHat I don't know is how Max is going to parlay this into something that benefits him!
He's going to try.
I knew the innocent guy routine was for show.
All for show. Max is definitely not innocent.


Thank you for the feedback! On we go!








Part 69








Tia Jauna’s Mexican Grille proved to be the destination for the Evans family that night. Diane was all insistent that Max pick the place to east since he was, technically, their guest. He said he liked spicy food, and he had only been to this place in its Albuquerque location a few times, but he liked it.

Isabel was nearly done with her meal by the time her mother and brother were only halfway done with theirs. Her mom was doing more talking than she was eating, and she was asking Max so many questions that it was slowing him down, too.

“Oh, do you remember the spider?” she asked him. “I think your dad got a picture of that.”

“Spider . . .” he pondered. “Nope, not remembering.”

“Oh, it was so cute. You were just a little guy, maybe four years old, and you went outside and picked up this spider and brought it inside. But it was huge! And when I saw it, I swatted it out of your hand and stepped on it—kind of a natural reaction, right?”

“Right.”

“But you didn’t think so at the time. You were so upset. You started crying, and your dad started videotaping, and you just kept going on and on about how this spider was your best friend.”

Max chuckled. “God, I must’ve been friendless.”

“Well, that’s how little kids are with animals, you know. Very easily-attached. And then when Isabel saw you crying, she started crying, too, and I just felt so bad! But it was so cute seeing you get all worked up over Bobby.”

“Bobby?” Max echoed.

“You said that’s what you named him.”

“Sure it wasn’t Dylan?” Isabel asked.

Max kicked her under the table.

“No, it was Bobby,” their mother affirmed, oblivious. “Bobby the spider.”

“Well, Bobby’s in a better place now,” Max said as he took another bite of his burrito.

“You were just the cutest thing!” their mother raved, squeezing his arm. “And look at you now! I bet the girls in college just can’t get enough of you.”

“Well . . . they can’t,” he admitted.

“Is there a special one?”

“Uh . . . possibly. We’ll see.”

Isabel frowned. Max had a girlfriend? Or, by the sound of it, at least someone who had the potential to become a girlfriend. Damn. That meant he probably wouldn’t be open to seducing Maria again. Not that that would even be possible as long as she and Michael were literally joined at the hip, but it would have been nice to have that option to play.

“Well, I’d love to hear about her,” Diane chirped.

“Actually, Mom, I’d love to hear more of your stories,” he said.

“Oh, well, I’ve got plenty!” she exclaimed. “Just give me a minute. I’m gonna run to the restroom, but I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” He immediately started shoving in the food when she got up and left the table. “Man, that woman can talk.”

“Yeah, she can,” Isabel agreed. “She’s so happy you’re here, though. I haven’t seen her this happy for a long time.”

“She’s alone and lonely?” he guessed.

“No, not really. She has, like, an on-again/off-again boyfriend. And she and I used to be close, but . . .” She trailed off, shrugging.

“Not anymore?”

“Not lately. See, she doesn’t agree with all the choices I’ve been making lately.”

“Hmm.” He wiped his mouth off with his napkin and guessed, “Drugs?”

“No.”

“Drinking?”

“Somewhat.”

“Sex?”

“Lots.”

“That’ll do it. Parents hate it when their kids grow up. But it’s normal teenage stuff. She’ll learn to deal with it.”

“I hope so.” As much as she was trying to appear unbothered by it, she really wanted to smooth things over with her mom before she headed off to college. She worried that, if they didn’t, her mom would never escape the eager arms of Jim Valenti when she was gone. And she deserved better than that.

“Dad had to learn to deal with a lot from me,” Max said. “I did some messed up shit.”

“Do you still?” she asked. “I mean . . .” She lowered her voice and leaned in across the table. “Do you still do drugs and stuff?”

“Why?” he asked in response. “You want some?”

“No, I’m just wondering.”

“Well, I don’t,” he replied. “Not for a few months.” He smiled amusingly and declared with an overly-cheesy tone, “I’m on the right path now.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You sure about that?”

“Oh, yeah. I came to the realization I gotta do something with my life. I’m an Evans. I can’t be a failure.”

She stared at him intently, finding it interesting and slightly eerie that, even though they’d grown up apart with different parents, they felt the same pressure. The pressure to succeed.

“Anyway . . . on the subject of failures . . . what do you and Maria see in that Michael guy?”

“Well, I don’t see as much as I used to,” Isabel admitted. “I’ve given up the hope of ever being with him again. It’s over. I get that. But I’d really like it if their lives weren’t so fucking great.”

“They weren’t today.” Max grinned proudly. “Oh, you should’ve seen it, Isabel. It was priceless. I showed up at that restaurant. Maria ran out.”

“Did she really?”

“Yeah, after she spilled a drink on Michael. And he’s just completely clueless. He didn’t know what was going on.”

“What did go on?” she asked, eager to get the details.

“Not much. Just enough to get ‘em riled up. I spent the morning with Michael, kicking his ass at basketball. He thought I was some new guy named Matt.”

“He actually fell for that?” She knew Michael’s ACT scores were good, but sometimes he lacked common sense.

“Hook, line, and sinker. And so he brought me to the Crashdown, and there she was: my baby mama.”

Isabel laughed, wishing she’d stuck around so she could witness it. “So what’re you gonna do next?” she asked, fully entrusting him to wreak all the havoc she so desperately wanted to see.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” he said. “I’m gonna let them come to me.”

She tilted her head to the side curiously. “You think they will?”

Max put a smile on his face and lowered his voice as their mother re-approached the table. “I know they will.”

Isabel sat back, bracing herself for another story as her mom sat back down, already in the hustle of conversation. Max would gab with her, and she would halfway pay attention, but there was something much bigger going on, and she liked it. She liked having her brother in town, interacting with him, because he was one of the few people she’d met who seemed just as smart as her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Poor Maria. She was visibly upset and had been all afternoon and evening. She hadn’t said a whole lot, hadn’t done a whole lot, either. Michael wished there was something he could do for her.

He made some pink lemonade, because he knew she liked it better than the regular yellow kind, and brought it into the living room, where she sat curled up on the end of the couch, clutching the blanket over her lap with one hand, her shirt collar with the other. She was just staring off into space, lost in thought.

“Here,” he said, handing her the glass. “I made it for you.”

She looked up at him, sort of dazed. “Oh, thanks.” Taking the glass, she looked down into it for a few seconds, then brought it up to her lips and took a sip. She tried to conceal a disgusted facial expression and murmured, “Mmm.”

Oh god, I screwed it up, he thought. Too sweet? Too bitter? “Is it bad?” he asked.

“No, it’s . . .” She couldn’t even lie to him, but she tried to smile sweetly.

“Let me see,” he said, taking the glass back from her. He took a drink, immediately wishing he hadn’t. He spit it back out into the cup and set it down on the coffee table. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s fine.”

He sat down on the middle cushion, wanting to be close to her but still give her a little space. She was dealing with a lot right now. “I knew I didn’t like the guy,” he said, broaching the Max topic. “Even before I knew who he was. He was annoying. He kept following me around, bothering me. But I just let him, ‘cause honestly . . . I had nothing better to do.” He sighed, wishing he’d just gone home after his workout instead of playing Max’s stupid little game all day. He felt foolish, like he’d been played. He had been played, and he hated that. “I should’ve known,” he said regretfully. “I should’ve known it was him.”

“Michael, there was no way you could know.”

“But I saw that picture of him from when he was younger,” he protested.

“People look a lot different when they’re young.”

“But he’s Isabel’s brother.”

Again, she had an answer. “They don’t look anything alike.”

“Well, then I just should’ve known,” he said. “I should’ve had a feeling or a vibe. I shouldn’t have brought him to the Crashdown.”

“He was gonna show up there no matter what,” she told him. “He’s not exactly low-key.”

“Yeah, but . . .” He trailed off and shook his head, still wishing he’d known, been more intuitive about the whole thing. It wasn’t a good feeling to have one pulled over on you.

She twisted to face him, resting her head against the back of the couch. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried, though,” he said. “About you.” Truthfully, he was worried about a whole lot of other stuff, too, like the fact that Max had shown up right as they were getting the ball rolling on this moving process. It made him wonder why he was there. Was it about Maria? Dylan? Both of them? Things felt like they’d gotten complicated quickly.

“Don’t be worried about me,” she said.

“You’re upset, though.”

She looked down at her lap for a few seconds, then back up at him. “Max is just, like, this huge symbol of a really dark time in my life,” she said sadly. “I mean, I’d made some bad choices already, but when I met him, it got so much worse. I was totally throwing my life away.”

Michael scooted in closer, resting his head against the back of the couch close to hers. “Until you got pregnant.”

“Yeah. Talk about a blessing in disguise.”

He took her hand in his and stroked her knuckles with his thumb, once again looking at that barren ring finger. Dammit, he wished this wasn’t happening. He just wanted the right time . . .

“We would get so high,” she reminisced with a disgusted look on her face. “Constantly wasted. It was all about the next big party. Or having sex. I can’t believe this is the guy I lost my virginity to.”

Michael tensed. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Max got involved in all this crazy stuff,” she went on, “and I just went along with it. Because I was just this fifteen year-old kid with no idea who I wanted to be in life.”

“And look at you now,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, look at me now. I’m a waitress-slash-librarian who still hasn’t finished high school. I live in my boyfriend’s house.”

“You’re a great mom,” he pointed out readily. “You’re a great girlfriend.”

“Yeah, and who would I be if I wasn’t your girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on.” He gave her a look.

“Who would I be?”

“You’d be you. You’re Maria DeLuca. You’re not defined by me or Max or anyone.” This . . . upset him. He wanted Maria to believe in herself as much as he believed in her. He saw her as this strong, incredible woman who had overcome a lot in her life. Why didn’t she see herself that way?

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, bending forward to hold her head in hands. “I don’t mean to be such a train wreck. It’s just that I haven’t had to think about him for a long time now, and I don’t like it.”

“Hey.” He put his hand under her chin, urging her to look up at him. “You got somethin’ pretty good goin’ on here, and Max isn’t gonna screw it up.”

“I know,” she said, tears shining in her eyes. “I just wish I knew why he was here.”

He waited until the first tear seeped over, and he wiped it away before it could slide down her cheek. “I’ll find out,” he promised, figuring he could ask his own Evans ex to clue him in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael sauntered up to Isabel’s locker, and she gasped when she slammed it and saw him standing there.

No small-talk. No pleasantries. He launched right in. “What’s your brother doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too, Michael,” she muttered, turning to walk away.

He jumped in front of her, stopping her. “We both know it’s not nice to see each other anymore, so cut the crap. Why’s he here?”

She rolled her eyes, clutching her books to her chest. “He finished up with his finals, so he came to spend some time with me and my mom.”

That was it? He had to admit, he’d expected more. Just . . . finals? Crap, finals. That meant . . . “He’s in college?”

“Yeah. Studying to be a lawyer.”

Oh, great. The guy wasn’t any competition by any means . . . thankfully, because Michael didn’t want to have to compete with that. “Think he’ll defend any drug addicts someday? That’d be ironic.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Hypocritical much? You’ve done drugs before.”

“Smoked pot here and there,” he admitted. “Who hasn’t these days?”

“I haven’t,” she proclaimed.

“Oh, that’s ‘cause you’re just a model of good behavior, Isabel,” he said sarcastically, “what with your porno stardom and prom night blowjobs.”

She glared at him. “You’re an ass.”

“So is your brother.”

“That means you’re a lot alike. Except he’s a smarter, more capable version of you.”

“So why’d he do that whole little charade the other day?” he drilled. “Seemed kinda pointless.”

“Oh, you mean pulling the wool over your eyes?” She smirked. “I’m pretty sure that was just for fun.”

Fuck. He regretted asking. “I’m guessing you told him all about me and Maria.”

“How could I not? It’s just such an epic love story.” The bell rang, so she blew him an angry kiss and shoved past him on her way down the hall.

God, what happened to you? he wondered as he watched her go. It was sad, really, seeing a decent girl go down the drain. But he couldn’t dwell on it. Not anymore. He had his own problems to think about.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael skipped his afterschool workout with Kyle and headed to the daycare to meet up with Maria and Dylan instead. Lifting weights just didn’t seem important right now, not with what else was going on. He just wanted to be with the two of them, because he knew Maria was still freaking out, and she needed him to be there for her.

“No, I wanna do it!” Dylan yelped as Maria tried to tie his shoes for him.

“Okay, you do it then,” she said, sounding stressed out as she backed off him and stood up next to Michael again. “I don’t believe it,” she grumbled quietly. “In town to see his family? Yeah, right.”

“I don’t know, maybe . . .”

“Don’t give him the benefit of any doubt, Michael,” she cautioned. “He’s gotta be up to something. That’s who he is.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled. But really, he was hoping that Isabel had been telling him the truth. He didn’t want to have to deal with some scheme or diabolical plot, which is what Maria seemed convinced Max had up his sleeve.

“Do you think it’s because of us?” she speculated in hushed tones so Dylan couldn’t hear. “Like maybe Isabel got a hold of him and told him that I’d finally moved on, and now he’s here to try to break us up? Because they’re jealous.”

“I don’t think they’re that jealous,” he said.

“Then maybe it’s--” She trailed off abruptly, looking over her shoulder at her son. “Oh my god,” she gasped, whispering, “What if it’s Dylan?”

He shook his head, refusing to even think about that. “No.”

“What if it is? What if he changed his mind and now he wants to be a part of Dylan’s life? I’ve always worried about that.”

Michael stared at the blonde little boy, whose hair, he’d noticed, was getting a little bit darker. Still blonde, but not such a bright blonde anymore. Maybe it would end up being as dark as Max’s someday. Maybe hair color was a hereditary thing.

He thought of that kid like a son, so he hated the idea of some other guy moving in on him.

“You don’t have to worry,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her in close, just holding her while he looked over her shoulder and watched Dylan’s miserable attempt to try to tie his own shoes. The little boy stuck his tongue out to the side and got this really intense look of concentration on his face. Even when it didn’t work, he didn’t get frustrated. He just started over.

Oh, buddy . . .

Maria thought she was worried? At least she was Dylan’s biological parent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael lay on his bed with his hands behind his head, fighting the urge to fall asleep while he waited for Maria to come back into the room. It had been a long couple of days, and he wasn’t exactly feeling rested.

But none of that mattered when the door opened and Maria stepped inside, because, as promised, she’d put on the crimson Alabama football jersey he’d ordered online. It was specifically a jersey for women, and he’d ordered it with the number sixty-nine on the front. It was the perfect length on her, went down just below her butt. She looked so damn good.

“Whoa,” he said, propping himself up on his forearms, unabashedly ogling her.

She turned around slowly, giving him a quick view of her backside as it peeked out from beneath the fabric. Jersey and a thong. Perfect combination. She looked like one of those girls from the calendars.

“Wow.” He felt like he salivating. Probably was. Didn’t care. “I’m on board with this.”

She swayed towards the bed, and even though she wasn’t exactly trying to be seductive, he felt seduced as she crawled in bed beside him and draped one leg over his waist. They kissed for a bit, and he greedily moved his hands up under the jersey to squeeze her ass. She was unusually unresponsive, though. Her hands weren’t roaming all over him, and she didn’t seem quite as into the making out as he’d hoped she would be.

He pulled back and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I don’t feel very sexy right now.”

“Really?” He found that hard to believe. “ ‘cause you look very sexy.” There was something about a hot girl in football gear . . .

“I just feel all agitated,” she said, pouting.

Oh, he knew where this was going. Not to pound-town, that was for sure. But if she wasn’t in the mood, then he wasn’t going to try to convince her. Sex was always better when both of you wanted and needed to do it.

“Alright, let’s just go on over there and confront the guy,” he boldly suggested, “find out why the hell he’s here, put your mind at ease.” And mine, he thought. As much as this outfit on Maria was a tremendous distraction, he’d been feeling kind of stressed out these past few days, too.

“You think he’s staying at Isabel’s?” she asked.

“I know he’s staying there. I heard her talking about it in English today.”

She thought about it for just a second before she agreed. “Okay, let’s go.” She hopped up off of him and grabbed a pair of her jeans off the floor. “We can’t let him get the best of us, though.”

“No,” he agreed, standing up. “Wear the jersey.”

She gave him a confused look, but he knew what he was talking about. There was no harm in making Max jealous, reminding him of what he no longer had. And what better way to do that than show up wearing something that would drive any man wild?

She peeked in at Dylan before they left, and then they slipped out of the house quietly so they wouldn’t wake anyone else up. He fought his now-typical battle with the driver’s side door but managed to get it open this time, and he drove them over to Isabel’s in less than ten minutes.

“Okay, what’re we gonna say to him?” Maria prepped as they got out of the car.

“I don’t know. That’s up to you.” He hadn’t exactly planned this through. It had been a spur-of-the-moment idea, just like the rest of his ideas were.

“Do I just flat-out ask him?”

“Probably.” He led the way up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

“Is it weird for you to be back here?” she asked him as they waited.

“At my ex-girlfriend’s house with my current girlfriend? Oh, yeah.” He nudged her side teasingly. “The things I do for you, DeLuca.”

“I love the things you do for me.” She gave him a sultry look.

“Oh, damn.” Maybe this was a good idea after all. If Maria was saying sexy things, maybe she was feeling a little more confident than he’d thought. Confidence was good for a confrontation. And she’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail now, too, so she really had the girl-next-door look going on. Even sexier. She’d make Max envy him even more now.

The door swung open at last, right as Michael was about to ring the bell again, and there stood Max, still dressed in his everyday clothes. “Maria. Michael,” he greeted with faux-pleasantness. “I was expecting you two.”

“You were?” Maria said.

“Yeah. See, I knew you’d avoid me for forty-eight hours—seventy-two at the most—and then curiosity would get the best of you and you’d have to stop by. And lo and behold, here you are.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in.”

Michael put his hand on Maria’s back and followed her inside. She looked pissed off to even be in the same room as Max, and when she spoke, it was like she was forcing herself to be calm. “Max, we’d like to have a mature, rational conversation with you.”

“We would?” Michael whispered. He’d been prepared to break out the fists of fury and throw down a fight if he had to.

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, I’m capable of that, Maria,” Max boasted. “I’m not in high school anymore.” He glanced at Michael and added, “No offense.”

Max . . .” she said warningly. “Don’t make this impossible.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve grown up. I’ve changed.”

“Yeah, I find that hard to believe,” she muttered.

“Well, you don’t have to believe it, but it’s true.” He casually strolled into the living room, where several open wine bottles were set atop the fireplace. “You want a drink, Michael?” he offered. “Isabel told me you and your father are . . . aficionados.”

Michael shrugged, not denying it, though of course he hated the comparison to his dad. “I’m good, Max,” he declined.

“I’ll have one,” Maria said, much to his surprise. She walked into the living room, and he once again followed, though he stayed back a bit, willing to let her handle this however she saw fit.

“Maria, Maria,” Max said with a scolding tone as he poured her a glass. “Can you knock ‘em back like you used to?”

“Hmm.” She brought the glass up to her lips when he handed it to her, but she didn’t even take a sip. Instead, she threw the wine all over him, drenching his shirt. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

Michael just stood back and smiled at his girl. Good for her, letting this guy have it.

“Well . . .” Max plucked at his wet shirt. “So much for rational and mature.”

“Well, that went out the window when you insinuated my boyfriend’s an alcoholic,” Maria growled. She shoved the now empty glass back at him, glaring. “Tell me why you’re here, ‘cause I know you’re up to something.”

“Oh, you do, huh?” He pointed a finger at Michael and asked, “You agree with her, Guerin?”

He didn’t want to. He wanted Isabel’s explanation to be the truth. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I’m just along for the ride.”

Max chuckled. “You ride her, huh? Or does she ride you?”

“Max, shut up!” Maria snapped.

“No, I’m curious,” he said, peeling off his shirt. He had a beater on underneath. “I genuinely wanna know. How’s your sex life these days, Maria? I realize it might be a letdown coming off of me.”

“Actually, Max, the only thing that was a letdown was losing my virginity to you in the first place.”

Michael laughed a little, impressed. His girl was on tonight.

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t so bad,” Max argued. “Nighttime, on the beach . . .”

“Both of us wasted.”

“Me on top of you.”

“You didn’t exactly go slow.”

“You didn’t exactly tell me to stop.”

“Two minutes later, it was over, and I was disappointed.”

Oh, good one, Maria, Michael thought. This was awesome, seeing her stand up to his guy like this. Total turn-on in every way.

Max shrugged and confessed, “It wasn’t my best performance. But I still got off.”

She grunted. “Yeah, you got off. I never did.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not backing down, and said, “Okay, you wanna know about my sex life? I’ll tell you. It’s amazing.”

“Damn right,” Michael mumbled in agreement.

“You know why? Because when Michael and I got together, I finally found out what it feels like to have a real orgasm.”

“Multiple ones,” Michael added. “In a row.”

“In a row,” she echoed boastfully.

“Well, that’s great, Maria,” Max said flippantly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be bothered to go down on you. I was too busy . . .” He mimicked the shape of a rounded belly with his arms. “. . . impregnating you.”

“Yeah, and abandoning her,” Michael snapped.

“Oh, you think that’s what I did, huh?” Max moved past Maria and came towards him. “Is that what she told you?”

“That’s what you did, Max!” Maria yelled.

“No, I told you to have an abortion, gave you the money and everything.”

“I didn’t wanna have an abortion! I wanted to put him up for adoption.”

“Which you should’ve.”

“And I would’ve if you hadn’t convinced me that you were gonna be there once he was born.”

“I thought I would be!” Max roared, sounding worked up for the first time since Michael had met him. “But what was I supposed to do, Maria? I freaked out. I was seventeen.”

She threw her arms up in disbelief. “I was fifteen!”

“Almost sixteen.”

“I was still just fifteen!”

“And you got yourself in a bad situation when you didn’t agree to just abort the baby.”

Michael clenched his hands into fists at his sides. This was Maria’s battle, and he understood that, but hearing Max say something like that absolutely infuriated him, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to knock his lights out.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” she challenged. “Like it didn’t take two?”

“Maria, I don’t know what you expected of me. I was a mess; I was a drug addict.”

“Was.” She gave him a skeptical look. “Are you claiming you’re not anymore?”

He flapped his arms against his sides as if he had nothing to hide. “I’m not.”

“Oh, save it, Max.”

“You can believe what you wanna believe, but I’m clean,” he insisted. “Michael, when we hung out the other day, I didn’t say one thing about drugs, did I?”

“No,” Michael acknowledged, “but you also said your name was Matt, so I don’t really know what to believe.”

“It was an alias.”

“Well, it’s a lame alias,” Michael informed him. “Ricardo Fuego . . . now that’s an alias.”

“I knew you wouldn’t give me the time of day if you knew who I really was, so I picked the most similarly-sounding name, knowing you wouldn’t be smart enough to see through it.”

“Fuck you, man,” Michael muttered.

“Um, for your information, Michael’s plenty smart,” Maria informed her ex. “He’s going to college.”

But of course Max was able to burst her bubble. “So am I, sweetheart. Got two years under my belt now. Gonna be a lawyer.”

“Oh, that’s good, since most lawyers are liars.”

“How about you?” he asked her. “How’s that GED going?”

“It’s not. See, I’ve been too busy raising your kid.”

Max smirked and pointed a finger at her. “My kid. Got that right.”

Maria exchanged a worried glance with Michael, and he tried to mask his own concerns. But there it was, wasn’t it? Max was claiming his territory. Maybe she was right and that was why he was back. Maybe it was way more about Dylan than it was about her.

Suddenly, as if the whole situation wasn’t nuts enough already, Isabel came treading downstairs, wearing only a the Princeton bra and panties Michael had gotten her for Christmas. He quickly averted his eyes, but it was hard not to notice her.

“Good lord,” she said dramatically. “It’s a good thing Mom took that sleeping pill, otherwise all this yelling would wake her right up.”

“Isabel . . .” Maria held her hand up to the side of her face to shield her eyes. “Can you go put some clothes on?”

“Oh, relax, he’s my brother. He doesn’t care,” she dismissed. “And honey, it’s nothing your boyfriend hasn’t seen before.”

“It’s nothing everyone hasn’t seen before,” Michael reminded her, “thanks to your video.”

Isabel groaned. “Oh, Max . . . look at these two. Riding up in here on their high horse. They think they’re so much better than us.”

“No, Isabel, it’s not about being better!” Maria hissed. “I just wanna know what the hell he’s doing here! If you were in my position, you’d understand.”

Isabel shrugged. “I already told Michael. And it was the truth. It’s not my fault if you don’t believe him.”

“Oh, yeah, Max came back here to reconnect with his family—excuse me, his other family? Give me a break.”

“It’s true,” Max said, laughing lightly. “Good god, woman, you are a skeptic.”

“Well, you’ve given me plenty of reasons to be skeptical.”

“I came here ‘cause my dad’s bein’ a dick, so I thought I might as well get to know my mom and my little sister,” he explained evenly. “The fact that you and Dylan just happen to be living here, too . . . that was a happy accident.”

Maria glared at him, looking like she, too, wanted to punch him now.

Michael felt the need to jump in and try to wrap this up before it went on much longer. Now that Isabel had joined them, Maria would probably start to get a little more frazzled. “Alright, let’s get something straight,” he said, moving to stand beside her. “You’re not a part of her life. You’re definitely not a part of Dylan’s life. Don’t fuckin’ bother us, ‘cause we’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what?” Max questioned.

“Like each other, for starters.” Oh, yeah. He got a good one in there, too.

“If you think that makes me jealous, you’re wrong,” Max informed him.

“It makes me jealous,” Isabel readily admitted.

Max ignored her and kept on. “I don’t lack for women in my life, many of whom could fill out that jersey a little better than Maria can.”

“Oh, you’re just beggin’ for me to hit you,” Michael warned.

“Michael, don’t,” Maria said, grabbing hold of his arm as if to keep it down at his side.

“Maybe you’re not jealous of me and her,” he conceded, though he highly doubted that was one-hundred percent true, “but I know you’re jealous of me and Dylan. ‘cause I’m the only dad he’s ever known, and the only one he’s ever gonna know. He’s got his own jersey, says Guerin on the back. That’ll be his last name someday, and he’ll never even know you exist.” Oh, it felt fucking good to say all that.

Max actually looked a little bit taken aback, like he didn’t know what to say for a change. Isabel didn’t say anything either, and just as the silence settled in, their mom came staggering downstairs, bemoaning, “What’s going on down here? It’s so late.” She rubbed her eyes, and when she saw Michael, she got this furious look on her face. “Honey, what’s he doing here? And . . . why don’t you have any clothes on?”

“This is what I was sleeping in,” Isabel said nonchalantly. “And he’s just here to cause problems.”

“Oh, big surprise!” Diane, who was probably still battling the effects of her sleeping pill, nearly tripped as she stepped down off the stairs. “Michael, you’re not exactly welcome here,” she told him sternly.

“Then I’ll just leave.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Maria agreed, grabbing his hand.

“Who is this?” Diane asked. “Who are you?”

“Oh, Mom, that’s Maria. She’s Michael willing ho!” Isabel exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s a party!”

“Let’s go,” Maria repeated, and together they headed for the door.

“Wait a minute,” Max called, stopping them. “My dearest, sweetest, admittedly estranged mother . . . I feel I owe it to you to be honest with you.”

“No, Max, don’t,” Maria ground out.

“This angry-looking young woman . . . is the mother of my child.”

Michael winced as Maria’s grip on his hand tightened to the point of pain. This was all going horribly wrong for her.

“What?” Diane shrieked. “What’re you--”

“I got her pregnant back in high school,” Max revealed simply. “I have a son.”

His mother stared at him in utter shock and disbelief and once again screeched, “What?!

“Let’s get outta here,” Michael said, making a hasty exit, practically dragging Maria along with him. He had to get her out of that chaotic house . . . and back to the chaos of his own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael sat in the darkened kitchen with Maria during that awkward transition from night to morning, trying to put her mind at ease, but nothing he said seemed to help. She was really upset that Max had revealed Dylan’s paternity to his mother. She saw it as the beginning of a domino effect where the Evanses would try to play a bigger and bigger role in Dylan’s life.

“That was a disaster,” she lamented, leaning forward on the table, her head in her hands.

“Yeah,” he muttered in agreement. “Didn’t end well.”

“Now Diane knows. Soon everyone’s gonna know. It’s gonna get even more dramatic than it already is.”

“It’ll be alright,” he assured her. They would be moving soon enough, onto bigger and better things than Roswell, New Mexico. They would put some distance between themselves and all this crap here. It was going to be great.

“It just makes me so angry,” she growled emotionally, slamming her hands down on the table. “Max goes around saying Dylan’s his son, but he’s never even acted like a father. What gives him the right to do that? He’s my son.”

Michael reached over and put his hand on top of hers. “Our son,” he reminded her. He had no reservations about thinking of Dylan that way. None at all. Why would he?

She stared at him appreciatively for a brief moment, her eyes brimming with tears, and then suddenly, she burst out crying.

“Oh, no, Maria . . .” Had he said something wrong? He didn’t think so. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, wiping the tears away as they fell rapidly. “I don’t mean to be such a girl.”

“It’s okay, you are a girl. I like that you’re a girl. I wouldn’t like you if you were a guy. I mean, I’d like you, but I wouldn’t like you like you, you know?”

His babbling nonsense got her to smile and laugh a little, but she kept crying. “It’s just . . . when you say stuff like that, it makes me wish . . .” She trailed off, waving her hand in front of her face as she shook her head.

“Wish what?” he prompted.

She sniffled, wiping the back of her hand underneath her nose. “That Dylan really was your son.”

He frowned, wondering if it would always be like this, if she would think of him as Dylan’s father but always be bothered by that lingering knowledge that he technically wasn’t. And would that bother Dylan, too? Would he even know? What would they tell him about his so-called ‘real’ dad, or was it best to not tell him anything at all?

“I wish I’d met you four years ago instead of Max,” she cried. “I mean, I love Dylan, don’t get me wrong; he’s perfect in every way, but . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears continued to fall. “I wish he was a part of you instead of part of Max.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, he didn’t think about this stuff as much as Maria did. Often, he forgot that Dylan wasn’t his biological son, because it just felt that way, and it had for a long time. It didn’t freak him out the way it would have at the beginning of the year. He was proud of it.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I’m like a train wreck right now.”

“You’re fine.” These past few days had definitely been head-spinning. She had every right to be emotional.

“I think I just wanna go take a shower,” she said, standing up.

“Alone?” he asked. Sex wasn’t on his mind right now, but he was more than willing to get in there with her and just . . . hold her.

“I’m just gonna do a quick shower and try to rest for an hour or two,” she said.

“Okay.” That was probably a good idea. It was 5:30 a.m., and after a sleepless night, he had school to look forward to. Fantastic.

A few seconds after she went upstairs, Dylan came padding into the kitchen, holding his favorite blanket. “Daddy?” he squeaked out.

Yeah, that’s me, Michael thought. Daddy. “What’s up, kiddo? Why’re you up so early?”

With his head lowered, Dylan shuffled forward and stood in front of him. “Is Mommy cwying?” he asked.

“No,” he lied so as not to worry the little boy. “She’s just laughing really hard.”

“Is she okay?”

“Oh, she’s fine,” he assured him, lifting him up onto his lap. “Listen, buddy, you should go back to sleep. For another hour, at least. Nobody should be up this early.”

“You up,” he pointed out.

“Well, I didn’t go to sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” He thought up a lie Dylan wouldn’t be able to decipher. “I was watching a soap opera.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, it’s a very dramatic TV show where everyone’s good-looking and has lots of problems.” Sounded like an accurate enough description of his life at the moment.

“Sounds . . . . blugh,” Dylan declared.

“Yeah, it is. You don’t wanna hear about it. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.” Michael stood up and carried Dylan back into his small bedroom. The bed was a mess. Kid liked to kick off all the covers, just like his mom. “You sleep like a crazy person,” Michael told him as he set him back down on the mattress.

Dylan giggled and curled up on his side.

Michael put the blankets back up over him, leaving the bedspread on the floor, and knelt down beside the bed. He watched Dylan for a few seconds as he closed his eyes and popped his thumb into his mouth. He just watched him.

Right now, he looked more like Maria than he did like Max, but it was possible that that would change as he got older. When he’d been younger, everyone had told Michael he looked like his mom. Now that he was older, everyone said he was the spitting image of his dad. Dylan could be the spitting image of Max someday. Maria would hate that, even though she’d still love him.

It didn’t really matter, though, did it? It was just his outside. As long as Max didn’t have any effect on the inside, then it was fine.

“Hey, Dylan?” Michael whispered.

Dylan made a soft mewing noise but didn’t open his eyes. That was okay. He didn’t need to.

“I love you, Dylan,” Michael told him. He’d never said those words to him before, even though he’d felt it for a long time. But right now, after everything they’d dealt with tonight, it just felt necessary.

A sleepy smile spread to Dylan’s face. “Love you, too, Daddy,” he squeaked out.

Michael smiled, too, soaking in the moment. He only wished Maria would have been with him, because it would have put her mind at ease. Hearing Dylan say those words made him feel sure that everything was going to be alright.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
keepsmiling7
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 69, 07/25/1

Post by keepsmiling7 »

So Max is very complex.........and very rude to bring up his past sex life with Maria.
I was proud of Maria holding her own, but still Max had to get in the zingers.
Guess Max has made a new start getting off drugs.......but I can see him causing lots of trouble for Maria.
Loved Michael's comment to Dylan........he had been watching a soap opera. That was just perfect!
Wonder when Dylan will find out who the sperm donor is in his life?
Thanks and great part,
Carolyn
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killjoy
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Re: Someone, Anyone (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) Part 69, 07/25/1

Post by killjoy »

Lord Alex,Tess and Kyle are astronomically sane compared to the others in this story :shock:

Maria's painting herself in a bit of a corner there while bringing up Max's drug and drinking past.......seeing who she's dating.

This whole Evans family has got to be the most dysfunctional family I've seen in awhile. :shock:

The whole soap opera line cracked me up.......hey you could bring in one of the Dupes as a long lost evil twin and than Michael's life would be like a soap opera :P :lol:
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Part 70

Post by April »

Carolyn:
So Max is very complex
Very. And he will continue to be that way.
I was proud of Maria holding her own, but still Max had to get in the zingers.
Yeah, he did.
Guess Max has made a new start getting off drugs.......but I can see him causing lots of trouble for Maria.
Yeah, Max is telling the truth when he says he's not doing drugs anymore . . . but that certainly doesn't mean it will be smooth sailing ahead.
Wonder when Dylan will find out who the sperm donor is in his life?
And that's basically all Max has been. It's very unfortunate that, for the first time ever, Dylan has both a mother and a father in his life (in the form of Michael), and now Max's arrival threatens to disrupt that.


Rod:
Lord Alex,Tess and Kyle are astronomically sane compared to the others in this story :shock:
Gotta have some sane to balance out the crazy. :lol:
Maria's painting herself in a bit of a corner there while bringing up Max's drug and drinking past.......seeing who she's dating.
Yeah, Michael definitely has a past of his own. Though Max's history of drug use is--or rather WAS--at another level.
The whole soap opera line cracked me up.......hey you could bring in one of the Dupes as a long lost evil twin and than Michael's life would be like a soap opera :P :lol:
I just have to poke fun at my own stories once in a while. They are so dramatic that I often feel like they're soap operas. Although I hope that they're more grounded and realistic than that in the long run. :D



Thanks for the feedback!








Part 70








Fucking school. It was a pointless annoyance at this point. They weren’t learning anything new. It was all about getting ready for finals now, which Michael knew he’d never be ready for no matter how hard he tried. So why try? He was going to pass all his classes—some of them just barely, but it didn’t matter to him.

They got to go and sit out on the bleachers that afternoon to watch the middle school track meet. Again, pointless. None of them cared which sixth grader won the hundred meter dash. But it was an excuse for the teachers not to teach and the learners not to learn, so everyone was pretty gung-ho about it. Michael especially didn’t mind that he would get to watch Tina compete. Her P.E. teacher had signed her up for the four-hundred meter run, which she was dreading, and had put her on the second leg of a relay team, which she hated even more. Whenever he located her, she and Todd were canoodling by the edge of the track, looking a little too cozy for fifth grade.

Kyle lay back, stretching out on several rows of bleachers, and said, “This isn’t so bad. Three more weeks. Only three more weeks.”

Thank God, Michael thought. It was a miracle he was even graduating.

“Kyle, don’t count down,” Tess whined.

“Oh, I know I shouldn’t,” he acknowledged. “It makes it go slower when you do.”

“No, you know how I hate the thought of you leaving me alone here next year,” Tess complained. “I don’t wanna think about it.”

He sat up straighter, putting his arm around his girlfriend. “Honey, let me remind you, we’ve gone to school together for exactly one year. That’s it.”

“But even when you went to East, you were always here,” she said, “in Roswell. You’re gonna be so far away next year, and it’s gonna suck around here. The football team’s gonna suck, my cheerleading squad’s gonna suck, prom’s gonna suck.”

“I’ll come back for prom if I can,” he promised. “And we’ll find time to see each other. We’ve got holidays and breaks, five-hour phone calls . . .”

“Skype sex,” Michael added in.

“Yeah.” Kyle gave her a dopey grin. “That’ll be fun.”

Still, she pouted. “It won’t be the same.”

“Well, no,” he admitted, “but it’s just for one year.”

“It’s gonna be a long year,” she mumbled unhappily.

“Oh, listen to you two,” Michael groaned, leaning forward as he mimicked Tess’s voice. “‘We love each other so much. We can’t bear to be apart.’ Your problems are not as dire as other people’s problems.”

“Like yours?” Tess guessed.

“I don’t have problems.”

“Well, actually, you do,” she argued. “Sex addiction’s at the top of the list.”

“Hey, I have a healthy sexual appetite, okay?”

“But I hear you’ve got an Evans problem. Isabel was telling people her brother’s in town.”

“Yeah, is that true?” Kyle asked.

Michael sighed heavily, actually kind of surprised that no one had brought it up with him until now. “Yeah, he’s here.”

“Oh my god,” Tess gasped. “That’s Dylan’s dad, right?”

“He’s not his dad.”

She scrunched up her forehead in confusion. “But I thought he was.”

“No, he’s . . .” Michael rolled his eyes, hating that he would always have to clarify this. “He’s his dad, but he’s not his dad, you know?”

“Aw,” Tess cooed. “You’re protective. That’s so cute, Michael.”

“Well, the guy’s a fuckin’ jackass, so . . .”

“So . . . he’s kinda like you then?” Tess summarized. “No offense.”

“No, he’s way worse than me,” he claimed. “I have hidden layers. I’m, like, fatherly now.”

“He is,” Kyle agreed. “I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, so have I,” Tess said. “You’re pretty good with Dylan.”

“I know.” He wasn’t very good at a whole lot. Sex and football had pretty much been it for many years, but now there was this. And this . . . it was rewarding in a very different kind of way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria had to take off during the middle of her shift at the library to rush to the daycare. She’d received an especially alarming phone call from the newest staff member there, a young woman about her age named Penny, who said something about a guy showing up there trying to talk to Dylan. She had to get there in a hurry. At times like these, she was really glad Michael’s mom was one of her bosses and totally understood.

She sprang out of the car and ran inside, feeling all worked up even though she didn’t know what was going on. If Michael had just shown up over lunch or something, it wouldn’t have been a big deal; she wouldn’t have gotten a phone call. Everyone who worked there knew him, because he’d dropped Dylan off and picked him up plenty of times. This had to be something else.

She was afraid she already knew what was going on.

“Oh, Maria, thank you for coming,” Penny said when she got there. “I’m sorry to call you during work.”

“No, it’s fine,” Maria said quickly. “What exactly happened?”

“Well, while we were outside playing, this guy just showed up and started trying to get Dylan’s attention. And then when I asked him to leave, he started going off about how he was Dylan’s father.”

Maria sighed in defeat. Yep, just as she’d expected. Max was going out of his way to make his presence known. “Let me guess,” she said. “Dark hair, dark eyes, sort of hot, but in an annoying, arrogant way?”

“Yeah. Is he . . .?” Penny let her sentence fade, leaving the obvious question hanging there.

“Yeah, he’s . . .” She didn’t even want to say it. Penny got the point. “It was good of you to call me. Thank you.”

“Oh, no problem,” Penny said. “Dylan seems fine, but I think that guy’s still outside if you wanna . . .”

“Thanks.” She managed a pleasant smile, then turned and let that smile drop. She stormed back out into the parking lot. Indeed, Max was there, sitting in a car that looked way too expensive for a college student to drive. She’d been in such a hurry to get inside and find out exactly what had happened that she hadn’t even noticed him sitting there.

She slammed her hand against the driver’s side window a few times, getting his attention. He glanced up from his phone and actually had the audacity to smile at her. Prick.

“Maria,” he said as he rolled down his window. “We just keep seeing each other all over the place, don’t we?”

“Oh, you’ve got some nerve, Max,” she growled. “I can’t believe you came here!”

“I just wanted to check on my son. Isabel said you usually took him to daycare, so I just checked around at all the cheapest places first.” He shrugged as if it had been easy. It probably had been easy for him.

“Well, I’m glad they tossed you out. You don’t deserve to spend any time with him.”

Max glared at her and got out of his car. “The only reason they tossed me out,” he said as he slammed the door shut, “is because you’ve brainwashed them into thinking Michael’s his father. Just like you’ve brainwashed Dylan.”

She huffed in outrage, “I haven’t brainwashed anyone! People think Michael’s his dad because he actually acts like it.”

“Really?” Max made a face. “Because Isabel’s told me about this guy, Maria. He doesn’t exactly sound like knight-in-shining-armor material.”

“You can’t believe anything she says. She’s pissed at him because he broke up with her.”

“Cheated on her, you mean,” he corrected. “With you.”

Maria shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t matter how much time had passed or how insufferable Isabel became. The fact that she and Michael had started out their relationship behind her back would always be a source of shame for her.

“This is so juicy,” Max remarked. “You can’t script this shit.”

“Can we script your exit?” she begged. “Because I’m really tired of you being here.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

Too bad, she thought. I am. She didn’t plan on uttering one word to Max about intending to move to Alabama, though. Isabel would probably tell him at some point, but until then, it was better if was just in the dark.

“I’d like for my son to be set straight,” he explained, “know the truth.”

“You mean you want him to know that his dad’s a deadbeat who would’ve rather vacuumed him out before he was born?” She glared at him accusingly.

“I just want him to know who his dad really is,” Max said simply. “And who it isn’t.”

Maria felt the emotions rising again, felt that same longing she’d felt this morning when she’d told Michael she wished Dylan was just theirs. She wanted it now more than ever. She wanted to just snap her fingers and have it be that way. “Max, you don’t get it,” she said. “I’ve never told Dylan to call Michael Dad. He started that all on his own. Because that’s what he knows and what he feels.”

“He’s four years old,” Max said dismissively. “He doesn’t know what he feels.”

Maria couldn’t listen to him anymore. She just couldn’t take it. Especially when he said something like that. She swung her hand out and slapped the side of his face hard. “He’s three,” she ground out, embarrassed for him that he didn’t even know that. She left him standing next to his car, holding his left cheek, and headed back inside to find Dylan, to see if he was really okay or if he was confused by anything that had happened today.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria was restless that evening, which wasn’t a good thing for Michael. Even though she wasn’t sleeping deeply, he wasn’t sleeping at all, because she was moving around so much and making lots of noises. Mostly just moans—not the pleasurable kind. The distressed kind. She wasn’t having a good dream.

Eventually she moved so much that she woke herself up. Her whole body was tense beside him.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Just a dream.”

“Oh, Michael . . .” She held onto his chest and pressed her face into his side.

“Do I even wanna ask what it was about?”

“No.” She sat up slowly, pushing her hair off of her face, and told him anyway. “Same thing I’ve been thinking about ever since he showed up in town.”

“So . . .” Michael grimaced as he spoke his next words. “You can’t stop thinking about Max?”

“It’s not that way and you know it,” she said. “It’s just . . . god, I feel like my head’s spinning.”

He reached up and tangled one hand in her hair. “Maybe I could clear your head then,” he proposed, rubbing her scalp.

“Mmm,” she purred, tilting her head to the side. “How sad is it that we haven’t even had sex since he’s been back?”

“We can have sex,” he offered, more than willing.

“No, I can’t have sex right now.”

“Oh.” Difference between guys and girls, he supposed. He could do it all the time.

“Because I’m so consumed by all this! Ugh!” She tossed the covers aside and got out of bed, starting to pace around the room. She tended to do that when she was worked up. “I hate this! See, Max . . . he’s like my past, right? And then you’re my present, and Dylan’s some mix in between. But with Max back, it’s like my past and present are colliding, and I can’t handle it! I’m not good at handling it, Michael!”

He got out of bed, sensing that fate might have another sleepless night in store for him. “Okay, Maria, you gotta calm down.”

“I’m not calm!” she shrieked. “I never thought I’d have to handle this! I thought Max was out of my life forever. He should’ve been out of my life forever.”

“He is.”

“No, he’s not! He’s here!” she cried. “He was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life, and I just wanted to be past it.”

“You are.” He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stand still. “Hey. You just gotta think about something else.”

“Oh, well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I can’t think about anything else,” she rambled. “I mean, look at me. I’m pathetic. I’m a hysterical idiot. I’m pretty sure you’re totally un-attracted to me right now, because I must look like a mess. And I can’t even think about other important stuff. Like moving. Oh my god, we’re supposed to be moving to freakin’ Alabama, and I haven’t even been thinking about finding a job or packing or . . . I haven’t been thinking about anything, Michael! Because there’s nothing that can get my mind off of this!”

“Marry me.”

And just like that . . . she stopped rambling. Her mind was on something else. “What?” she barely managed to choke out.

“Oh, god.” He’d really said that, hadn’t he? He was really doing this. Right here. Right now. No plan, no idea what he was going to say. “Holy crap.” This was spontaneous, even for him.

“Michael, what . . .” She just stared at him in shock, like she couldn’t even process what he’d said.

“Shit,” he swore. “I’m doing this all wrong.” He immediately started to scour the room, scrambling to remember where he’d kept that ring. It was kind of an important thing to remember, but he wasn’t sure if he’d put it in the bottom of his sock drawer or the bottom of his underwear drawer. “I’m sorry,” he said, rifling through both drawers at once. He threw out article after article of clothing, accidentally hitting her in the face with a few. “Sorry.”

“What’re you doing?” she asked him.

“I gotta redo it,” he said. “I got a ring. I can do it right.”

“You got a ring?”

“Yeah.” He felt it in the toe of one his oldest pairs of socks. “Oh, here it is,” he said, taking it out. He shoved the drawer halfway shut and leapt in front of her again, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Maria . . .” He held the small diamond up in between his thumb and index finger for her to see.

She stared at it in astonishment, slowly saying, “Oh my god.”

Clearly he’d surprised her. That made him feel good. Better it come as a total shock to her than it be something she was obviously expecting. “I told you I was gonna ask you someday,” he reminded her.

“Someday,” she echoed.

“Yeah. Which apparently is tonight, ‘cause . . .” He twirled the ring around between his fingers, feeling energized as he spoke the words. “I wanna marry you, Maria.”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I wanna marry you.”

“You wanna marry me?”

He laughed a little. “I’m showing you the ring, aren’t I?”

“You have a ring,” she processed.

“Yeah.” He hoped she liked it. Tina had said it was her favorite out of all the ones in the store.

She gazed at the ring with longing in her eyes and said, “It’s beautiful.”

He breathed an internal sigh of relief, glad that he had at least gotten a good one. It would look even more beautiful on her finger, though.

“Are you seriously asking me right now?”

“You think I’d joke about this?”

“No, but . . .” She looked like she was having a hard time even forming words. “Michael, how do you know?” she asked.

He didn’t get it, didn’t understand what she was asking. “Know what?”

“How do you know that we’ll . . . work out?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. In his mind, it wasn’t even a question. “I just know.” He had never felt so passionate about another person, so strongly about a decision. He wanted to be her husband, even though he never used to want that with anyone. He wanted it now more than anything. He wanted to be with her forever. He wasn’t sure how the hell any of this had happened, but there wasn’t one part of him that even felt like questioning it.

He understood why she might be more hesitant, though, given her past, so he tried to explain to her. “Maria, I—I know so much when I’m with you. Like, I know you love it when I call you sweetheart. But I don’t do that very often, ‘cause I feel like, if I said it more, you’d like it less.”

Her eyes were locked onto his as a small smile crept to her lips.

“And I know that one of my favorite things to do is make you laugh. But when you get laughing too hard sometimes, you start to cough, ‘cause you choke on your own spit.”

“Oh, um . . .” She lowered her head. “That’s really embarrassing.”

“No, it’s . . . oddly incredible,” he insisted. “And I know it’s weird to think that’s incredible, but . . . pretty much everything you do is incredible to me.”

“Michael . . .”

“Look, I’m not very good at being super romantic,” he cut back in, afraid that if he didn’t just say everything that was on the tip of his tongue, it would get lost in the recesses of his mind. “I mean, every once in a while, I pull off somethin’ good, but . . . I’m sorry if this isn’t romantic. I just had to say it, you know? I just felt like sayin’ it. And I know I’m puttin’ you on the spot, but that’s kinda what a proposal’s meant to do, so . . .” He felt like he was the rambling one now, and that hadn’t been his intention, so he cut to the chase, getting down on one knee this time. He held the ring out and looked up at her hopefully. “Maria DeLuca, I’m in love with you,” he told her. “And I know I wanna spend every day for the rest of my life with you.”

As she looked down at him, a few tears started to fall. Not sad ones, not scared ones this time. Stunned ones. Touched ones. She was touched. “The rest of your life’s a really long time,” she whispered.

“I know.” The weird thing was, with her, it wouldn’t feel long enough. Oh god, please say yes, he thought before he asked the question one more time. “Maria . . . will you marry me?”

Her response . . . wasn’t one. It was just more shocked silence. Her not saying anything made his heart start to slam against his chest.

“Now would be a good time for an answer,” he urged. He really couldn’t take the suspense much longer.

Her eyebrows arched up higher, and she squeaked out, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Was that the same thing as yes? How the hell was he supposed to interpret that? “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes yes?”

“Yes.” Finally, she just smiled. No tears, no silence. She wanted to marry him, too.

Holy crap, I just got engaged, his mind registered as he stood back up and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her passionately, the first of many kisses he’d be able to give her over the years. He wanted to give her so much, everything she wanted. And maybe he actually could now. He wasn’t just his dad’s loser son anymore. He was a guy who was going to be her husband. He was gonna be someone.

“Here.” He lifted her left hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger. Perfect fit.

“Oh my god, Michael,” she gasped, unable to take her eyes off of it until he tilted her head up and kissed her again. Before her rant and his rambling proposal, he felt like words had played their role for the night. He didn’t have many left, so he kept kissing her as they stumbled back towards the bed, falling onto it together.

This would work, this whole thing, their crazy intense relationship. He just knew it would.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Since the first time since her ex had popped up in town, Maria stirred from her slumber feeling . . . perfectly content. Not stressed. Not worried. Not angry. Just happy.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

When she opened her eyes and took a look at Michael, he was still asleep. He had his arm around her and his head tilted towards her. They woke up together like this almost every morning. But this wasn’t like every other morning.

She looked down at her left hand, holding her fingers up so she could see the small round diamond on her ring finger again. It had been hard to fall asleep, because all she’d wanted to do was stare at it and make sure it was real. Not necessarily a real diamond—she didn’t care about that. But really there. She wanted to make sure she hadn’t dreamed it. And now she knew she hadn’t.

Michael had proposed to her. It was still hard to fathom. Even though he’d told her he was going to, she’d had no idea that he was going to do it so spontaneously or so soon.

There was a guy in existence who loved her so much that he wanted to marry her. How crazy was that?

As hard as it was to get out of that bed, she did so quietly and carefully, hoping not to wake him yet. Michael hadn’t gotten enough sleep these past few nights, probably mostly due to her own restlessness. She hadn’t been restless after the proposal, though. Nope, then she’d slept soundly.

Even as she tried to go through her usual morning routine, she found that she couldn’t quite do it without being a spaz. While brushing her teeth, for instance, she actually switched hands and started moving her toothbrush with her left, even though it felt awkward and wasn’t effective. She just wanted to see the reflection of that ring in the mirror.

I’m such a dork, she thought, but she kept brushing with her left hand anyway. Just this time.

Michael came into the bathroom right as she was spitting into the sink and rinsing the brush off. “Morning,” he said.

“Hey.” She set her toothbrush aside and turned to him, well aware that she probably had a huge, dopey smile on her face. It was mind-blowing to think that he wasn’t just her boyfriend anymore. He was . . . good God, he was her fiancé.

Unreal. Amazing, but unreal.

He lifted her hand in his, stroking his thumb over the ring. And then he just smiled at her. He was always irresistible when he had that suggestively happy look on his face.

“Did we really get engaged last night?” she asked, still just the tiniest bit worried that she was delusional and had just made it all up.

“We really did,” he confirmed.

“Oh my god.” She squeezed his hand, scooting in closer to him. “We’re crazy.”

“We’re awesome,” he corrected, dipping his head to give her a kiss. And as it tended to do, one kiss became another, and then another, and before Maria knew it, he was picking her up and setting her down on the sink counter, full-on making out with her. And it was perfect. She couldn’t think of a better way to start out the morning.

By the time she managed to get dressed, get her hair fixed and makeup on, and head downstairs, she was running a bit behind schedule. But she figured since Krista seemed to be at about the same point in her morning routine, she was fine. She couldn’t be late to work if her boss wasn’t even there yet.

“Good morning,” Krista greeted, setting out a few boxes of cereal on the kitchen table. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, eventually.” Maria grabbed the milk out of the refrigerator for her and set it down on the table as well. “You?”

Krista shrugged. “Tossed and turned. I think I was dreading going to this conference today.”

Maria sat down, trying to sugarcoat her own lack of excitement. “Yeah, it sounds kinda . . .”

“Boring?” Krista filled in. “It is.”

Michael came trundling downstairs and asked, “What conference?”

“The young adult literature conference for area librarians.” Krista rolled her eyes. “Young adults don’t even go to the library.”

“I do,” Michael pointed out.

“Yeah, only to see her.”

Maria blushed.

“Alright, true,” he admitted, sitting beside her. “Dylan up yet?”

“No, he’s having a slow-moving morning. Would you be able to take him to daycare today?” She and Krista had to get an earlier start of it than usual, and she doubted he would be ready to go when they were.

“Sure,” he said, reaching across the table to grab the Reese’s Puffs.

“Thanks.” After the whole debacle with Max showing up there trying to squeeze in some time with Dylan, she sort of loved the thought of Michael dropping him off there today. It was kind of like a metaphorical slap in the face, even if Max wasn’t aware of it. At least she’d given him a real one that he was plenty aware of.

Krista yawned and dragged her hands through her hair. “I’m having a slow-moving morning, too,” she said. “I wish we didn’t have to go to that thing today.”

“We still get paid to go, right?” Maria double-checked.

“Oh, we get paid a little extra. That’s why I decided to have you go with me.”

“Much appreciated.” Maria grabbed the Frosted Flakes and poured a generous amount into her bowl, figuring she would need a little fuel in the tank if this conference proved to be as boring as Krista made it sound.

Krista yawned again and asked, “Can you hand me that when you’re done?”

“Yeah.” Maria reached across the table, realizing that she was holding out the box with her left hand just a second too late. Krista grabbed for the box, and both their hands lingered there as she caught sight of the ring. The ring that was such an obvious indicator of such an obvious thing.

Crap, Maria thought. She should have been more careful about hiding it. But then again, why should she have to hide it? She should be able to show it off to the world. Besides, she and her future mother-in-law were going to be spending the entire day together. It was only a matter of time until she noticed.

She just hadn’t wanted her to notice it this way.

Slowly, she withdrew her hand, putting it underneath the table. Michael was either completely oblivious or just unaffected, because he was just eating like normal.

Krista raised the box over her bowl as if she were about to pour it, but it was almost as if she couldn’t. She was too transfixed on a hand she could no longer even see. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked quietly, setting the cereal down.

Maria nudged Michael’s foot beneath the table, hoping he would take the lead on this. It was his mom, after all.

“What?” he said.

Krista just pointed to Maria wordlessly.

Maria cleared her throat and hesitantly set her hand down on the table again so the ring was in clear view. She heard Krista inhale sharply as she did so.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Michael said, setting his spoon down in his overflowing bowl. “Well . . .” He looked at Maria expectantly, but she just smiled nervously. No way was she handling this. This one was all on him. She had her own mom to tell.

“Is that an engagement ring?” Krista bravely asked.

“It’s . . .” Michael looked back and forth between his mother and Maria before coming clean. “Yeah, it’s an engagement ring.” He put his hand over hers and revealed, “I asked Maria to marry me last night.”

Maria just kept smiling. That was one of her strategies for nervousness: just smile. She was hopeful that Krista would crack a smile at some point, too, but she had no doubt this news came as a huge shock to her.

“Oh my goodness,” his mother gasped in disbelief. “You . . . you two are engaged?”

“Yeah. Let her see it, Maria.”

Unsurely, she slid her hand across the table so Krista could get a better look.

“Oh my.” Michael’s mother slid her finger over the diamond, then covered her mouth with her hand, as if she were holding something in. Tears, maybe? A lecture? Both of the above?

“You alright?” Michael asked his mom.

She nodded. “I just . . . I’m trying to figure out whether I’m surprised or not.”

“I was surprised,” Maria admitted, withdrawing her hand.

“It’s a beautiful ring,” Krista said shakily. “Did you pick it out yourself, Michael?”

“Teenie helped.”

“Tina knows?”

“I swore her to secrecy.”

“Does Dylan know?”

“No.”

“We’ll tell him soon,” Maria said. Obviously he wouldn’t have a problem with it. In fact, he’d probably be thrilled.

“What about your dad?” Krista asked fearfully.

Michael sighed heavily, and Maria looked down at her lap. The only thing worse than having to tell her mom that they were engaged would be having to tell Michael’s dad. It wasn’t nice to know that there were people who wouldn’t exactly be happy that you were experiencing the happiest moment of your life.

“You might wanna keep that finger hidden until you figure out what to say to him,” Krista advised.

Maria hid her hand between her thighs and mumbled, “Yeah,” in agreement. It was probably a good idea. That was going to be another conversation for Michael to handle, obviously. She wanted no part of that.

This whole thing, this big reveal . . . it was kind of feeling like a little bit of a letdown. She hadn’t expected Krista to jump up and down for joy by any means, but she’d assumed that, out of their parents, she would be the one who was the most encouraging and supportive about it. But she hadn’t even cracked a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Maria apologized, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure why she was apologizing. Even Michael gave her a confused look.

“For what?” Krista asked.

“Just . . .” She shrugged. Forever altering your son’s life? she thought. Wasn’t that what had happened the day he’d walked into the Crashdown, sat down in her section, and tried to order a beer? She hadn’t known it then, but now . . .

“Maria, I’m not mad,” Krista assured her. “I’m just . . . overwhelmed.”

“I know,” she said. “I just don’t want you to think that we were trying to go behind your back with this or anything.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think that,” Krista said. “Like I said, I’m just overwhelmed because my son . . .” She looked at Michael tearfully, and there came the smile. The emotional kind. “My son’s getting married.”

“Never thought that day would come, huh?” Michael joked.

“Oh, honey, you’re getting married.” Krista got up and shuffled over to Michael, bending down to hug him forcefully.

“Easy, Mom,” Michael cautioned. “Gotta breathe.”

“Oh, I’m just so . . . blown away right now!” she exclaimed, moving over to Maria. “Come here, sweetie.”

Maria stood up to hug her properly. She loved Krista like a mom and loved the idea of that feeling being a little more official once she and Michael tied the knot.

“Congratulations,” Krista said through tears.

Maria breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at Michael over his mom’s shoulder. “Thank you.” That was really all she’d been hoping to hear.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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