Somewhere, Anywhere (M&M, CC/UC, AU, Adult) COMPLETE, 07/23/17

[sarammlover]

Ok wow. Max returned Maria's ring. Whoa. I did not see that coming at all. Wasn't that kind of where things started going downhill for Maria and Michael anyway? The loss of that ring? Huh. I guess we will have to see what comes next. I felt sort of bad for Isabel at dinner. Makes her see how alone she really is. Can she redeem herself ever? See you next week!!

[April]

Carolyn:

To say this is an unusual Christmas........is a big understatement.
I would have been a nervous wreck had I been in that same situation.

I'm a big fan of unusual, unconventional, sometimes awkward group situations in fics. And the Evans-DeLuca Christmas, at least, was one of those.

Was glad to see Michael acting like a big brother with Tina, and wanting to be a part of her son's life. He is coming around.

Yeah, this is not what he wants for her, but it is what it is, so . . . it's good if he's being more supportive. She's going to need him.

Interesting revelation regarding Maria's engagement ring. Wonder how things will proceed now?

Suffice to say Maria was not expecting to ever see that ring again, and now that she has . . . well, it's really something for her.


Sara:

Ok wow. Max returned Maria's ring. Whoa. I did not see that coming at all. Wasn't that kind of where things started going downhill for Maria and Michael anyway? The loss of that ring?

I think things started going south for Michael and Maria the moment Max came into town. But that ring . . . oh man, it is so symbolic of so many things. Some amazing things (M+M's love for each other), and some horrific things (Max's cruelty and, ultimately, that night on the bridge.)

I felt sort of bad for Isabel at dinner. Makes her see how alone she really is.

I felt kind of bad for her, too.



Thanks for reading and leaving feedback!








Part 41








Even though it was cold out, Sarah insisted that she and Michael go for a walk around Roswell. He had no desire to do so, because to him it was just the same town he’d grown up in for eighteen long years; but he walked with her anyway, hand in hand.

“Come on, give me the tour,” she urged.

“The tour of what? It’s Roswell. There’s nothing to see.”

“It’s a tourist destination, Michael,” she pointed out.

“More like a tourist trap.”

“Come on,” she urged again.

He sighed, reluctantly giving in. “Okay, fine, you see that intersection up there? That’s where I saw an alien.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” she said sarcastically. “Seriously, I want the real stuff.”

The real stuff . . . wasn’t always pretty. “Fine. See that tree line way over there?” he pointed out in the distance. “That’s part of Frazier Woods. I used to go there and party and get drunk a lot.”

“Fascinating,” she said. “What else?”

He pointed to the dumpster next to E.T.’s Pizzeria. “I puked behind that building once. And this bar comin’ up here? They actually fell for my fake ID, and I got so wasted I danced on the pool table. Like full-on Coyote Ugly style.” As popular as he’d been, he had barely lived that one down.

“Surely you have some memories that aren’t tied to alcohol, don’t you?” she said.

Well . . . there were a few. But they weren’t nearly as funny. He stopped walking, grabbed her shoulders, and spun her to her right. “See that building back there?” he said. It was partially hidden by overgrown trees. “That’s my old high school, East.” The sign out front was missing a few letters, so instead of saying Home of the Rockets, it said, Ho of the Rock.

“So what happened to it again?” she asked.

“It flooded, ceilings caved in. So my senior year, we went to West, and they never reopened it.” Now it was just a condemned eyesore.

“That’s too bad,” she said.

“No, not really. West was better.” If he’d stayed at East, he probably wouldn’t have graduated. Although if he’d stayed at East, he and Isabel might never have gotten back together, and that would have spared her some personal drama in the long run.

“Where’s the Crashdown?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, it’s . . . up here a ways,” he answered vaguely.

“I wanna eat there,” she said. “It sounds so cute.”

“It’s not. It’s just a fast food place.”

“Let’s go,” she begged. “Please?”

Oh, shit, he did not wanna go there. “I’m not really hungry,” he lied.

“We could just split something,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, he let her pull him forward down the sidewalk, because he couldn’t think of a way out of this. If Sarah wanted to eat there, they’d eat there. The girl knew how to get her way.

A wave of nostalgia hit him from the moment she dragged him inside. This place . . . it definitely symbolized something to him. It had been a place of firsts for him and Maria. First time he’d met her, kissed her, even had sex with her . . . it had all been right there.

Luckily a family was sitting in his old usual booth, though, so he and Sarah sat down at a table instead. Grumpy, slow-moving Agnes was going to be their waitress.

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

Standing in the doorway, Maria watched as Max helped his mother load her gifts into her fancy car and said goodbye to her. They were definitely closer than Maria was with her mom, but she supposed that was a good thing. The more love Max had in his life, the better.

Shivering, she closed the door and cast a quick glance at Dylan. He was sitting at the kitchen table, still finishing his breakfast, so she let him be and made her way down the hallway into the bathroom. Once in there, she flipped on the light, momentarily squinting at its brightness and looked at herself in the mirror. There were tired bags under her eyes, because she’d tossed and turned all night.

She pulled open the top right drawer of the sink counter, which was mostly reserved for her things: toothbrushes, white strips, makeup, birth control pill. And now that small grey box with the small pretty ring inside. She’d just stashed it there last night because she wasn’t sure where else to put it.

She took the box out, opened it up, and took the ring out. Just seeing it made a lump form in the back of her throat.

What am I supposed to do with this? she pondered. It was a beautiful ring, and it hadn’t been damaged at all over the years. It still looked the same as it had the last time she’d worn it.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to dissolve into the past. She pictured herself back in Michael’s bedroom, staring at him in disbelief as he asked, “Will you marry me?” And after she’d said yes, he’d slid that ring onto her finger, and it had been a perfect fit.

Against her better judgment, she opened her eyes again and slowly put the ring back on, just to see if it still fit so perfectly. And it did.

Why am I doing this? she asked herself. She needed to take it off.

She left it on.

“Hey, Maria?”

She jerked her left hand backward and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans just as Max peeked into the bathroom.

“Hey do you know where Dylan’s snow suit is?” he asked her. “He wants to go play outside.”

Trying to look casual as she stood there, she said, “Um, it’s probably at the bottom of that big box in the coat closet.” She wasn’t sure why Max wanted him to wear it when there was only a thin layer of snow on the ground, though.

“Okay,” he said, his eyes surveying her up and down for a moment. “You alright?”

I must not look casual, she realized. But she couldn’t very well take that hand out of her pocket and let him see the ring on it. “Yeah,” she said, offering up a small smile.

He nodded, seemingly convinced, and then left the bathroom.

She breathed a sigh of relief and took her hand out of her pocket. She kept the ring on for a few more seconds, just gazing down at it reminiscently. But enough was enough. She never should have put it back on in the first place.

She yanked the ring off her finger, put it back in the box, and tossed the box back into the drawer, slamming it shut.

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

The holiday basketball tournament took place the day before New Year’s Eve, and in the days leading up to it, Maria dreaded it. Max said it was going to be one of those all day things, because there were five other schools coming to Pound Elementary to play. And from the second the first game got underway, Maria knew he was right. It was going to take all day.

“Come on, Dylan!” she yelled supportively from the stands. Scarlet, who was crawling on the bleachers, saw her clapping and then did the same, even though she didn’t know what she was clapping for.

“How cute,” Liz said. “She’s cheering him on.”

“Maybe she’ll be a cheerleader,” Maria speculated.

Liz gave her a stern look. “Or not.”

Maria laughed. Neither she nor Liz was the cheerleader type.

Returning her attention back to the game, she saw that Max was clearly getting agitated on the sideline. The refs were making a lot of calls that weren’t in the Bulldogs’ favor, and the score reflected the team’s complete . . . ineptitude. It was the second half already, and they only had seven points. Five of them had come from Luke, and the other two had been scored by a kid on the other team shooting into the wrong basket. The other team only had eleven points, though, so they weren’t doing much better.

“This is gonna take forever,” Liz groaned.

“You don’t have to stay,” Maria told her. “You’ve more than done your best friend duty if you make it through this game.”

“No, I’ll stay,” Liz said. She reached into her purse, took out her cell phone when it chimed, and read through a text she’d just received. “Oh, it’s from Sarah,” she said. “She and Michael are having a New Year’s party tomorrow night. She says I’m invited.”

“Oh.” Maria immediately looked down at her own phone. Nothing. Was Sarah finally fed up with her?

Apparently not, because a few seconds later, she received the same text message. “Looks like Max and I are invited, too.”

“She says it’s at Monk’s house,” Liz read. “Who’s Monk?”

“One of Michael’s friends.” Maria sent a quick text back, asking for the address. “Do you think you’re gonna go?”

“To this party?” Liz shrugged. “Maybe. I wasn’t planning on staying home.”

“Are you gonna bring Alex with you?” Maria hinted.

“Probably not. I think he just wants to stay home. In fact, he said he’d watch Scarlet if I went out.”

Maria sighed. “Liz.”

“What, Maria?”

“You need to get on this. Alex is single again, and you’re single, too, and I think you’re just delaying the inevitable here.”

“He’s not even divorced yet,” Liz pointed out. “And even if he was . . . I just don’t think there’s anything romantic there.”

“But you love him,” Maria pointed out. “I doubt it would be a far stretch to fall in love with him.”

“No, I think if I was falling in love with him, I’d have realized it by now,” Liz disagreed. “That’s not the kind of thing you can just decide is going to happen. You’re either in love with someone or you’re not, and I’m just not in love with Alex.”

As much as Maria wanted to keep trying to persuade her otherwise . . . she had a point. Love couldn’t be forced. At least not that kind of love. But still . . . Alex was a really nice guy. “Are you sure?” she questioned. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I swear; I just don’t want you to miss your shot with him.”

“I’m not missing any shot,” Liz declared confidently. She looked back out onto the court again and cringed. “Ooh, but I think Dylan’s about to.”

Maria watched as her son shot the ball from well beyond the three point line. The aim was off, and it fell far short.

Max clenched his fist and brought it up to his mouth to keep from saying anything for a moment. When he did say something again, it was directed to the whole team. “Hustle up, back on defense now.” As they ran down to the other side of the court, he shook his head in disappointment.

It’s okay, Dylan, Maria thought. He was trying his best, but it just didn’t seem like basketball was going to be his sport. She knew it would be hard for Max to accept that, but he would have to.

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

“Thanks for stopping by, Michael.”

“Yeah, no problem.” It was his last day in Roswell. He figured he should go see Kyle’s dad before he left. That man had been a better father to him growing up than his own dad had been.

“And listen, I’m glad to hear Kyle’s making progress,” Jim went on as he walked Michael towards the door, “but if he slips up or backtracks in any way, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“I won’t.”

Jim smiled appreciatively. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Michael chuckled, recalling the nights when Kyle had had to lug him home after too much drinking, or the days when he’d had to force him into the weight room after school. “Well, I’m lucky to have a friend like him, too.” If Kyle hadn’t helped get him through high school . . . who the hell knew where he’d be right now.

“Good to see you,” Jim said again, giving him a handshake.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, rerouting the conversation to something lighthearted before he left. “Hey, just outta curiosity, do you think being a grandpa’s gonna damage your pimp cred at all?”

“My pimp cred?” Jim echoed.

“Yeah. I mean, you were like my idol growin’ up. The way you constantly had this rotating circle of chicks in your life . . . it was amazing.”

“Well, I’m getting older,” Jim acknowledged, “so I think I’m getting ready to settle down now.”

“Really?” That was surprising. Michael had always pictured Kyle’s dad as a lifelong bachelor. “With who?”

“Who knows?” Jim said. “Maybe Amy DeLuca.”

Michael snorted. “Amy DeLuca?” Oh, yeah, that sounded like a picnic.

“We’re back together again,” Jim informed him. “Actually, she’s on her way over here right now.”

Michael froze in horror. “What?”

“Yeah, she should be here any minute.”

Oh, fuck. He couldn’t be there when she showed up. That’d be a disaster. “Gotta go,” he said, sprinting out the door. He didn’t even make it to his car, though, when he saw the worst thing ever: There she was, Amy DeLuca, pulling into the driveway, right behind his car, blocking him in.

I’m trapped, he thought, panicked. There was no escape. Unless he just made a run for it, which he was seriously contemplating.

Amy didn’t look particularly pleased to see him, either. After she shut off her car, she just sat behind the steering wheel for a few seconds, glaring at him through the windshield. When she did get out, all she said was, “Michael,” and it radiated hostility.

“Amy,” he returned equally coldly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. No, not asked. More like demanded.

“I’m on Christmas break,” he explained. “Thought I’d stop by and see Jim.” Although if he’d known he was going to run into her while he was over here, he would have skipped this whole thing altogether.

“How long are you gonna be in town?” she asked, slowly walking towards him.

“Leavin’ tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” She looked him up and down, as if she were inspecting him. She’d always looked at him like that, like he was an insect she wanted to squash so badly. “Well, I’m glad I ran into you, actually.”

“Wish I could say the same,” he muttered quietly.

“I’ve been meaning to confront you about this . . . re-emerging relationship you and my daughter seem to have.”

“Relationship?” He bristled. “We’re friends.”

“That’s what she told me, but I’m just having a hard time believing it.”

He grunted. Of course. Of course she was.

“I don’t remember a time when the two of you were ever just friends,” she snapped.

“We were.”

“No, you weren’t,” she argued. “I think whether you realized it or not, you fell madly in love with each other, and then you fell into bed a whole bunch of times, and then my grandson fell off a bridge.”

“And I jumped in after him,” he made sure to remind her.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a hero,” she remarked sarcastically. “Although you are the reason he fell in the first place, so . . .”

“Yeah, Max is part of that reason, too,” he pointed out quickly. Hell, he’d own up to his own mistakes if people at least started to hold Max accountable for his role in the whole thing.

“But he’s a much different person now than he was back then,” Amy said.

“So am I.”

It was like she didn’t even hear him, or want to. “He’s a good man and a good father, and he and Maria are building a nice life together. I’d hate to see you ruin that.”

“What the--” He threw his hands up in the air. This damn woman. She was so determined to make him out to be the villain no matter what. “I’m not fucking ruining anything! And for your information, I’ve got my own life. I’ve got a job, got a girlfriend.”

“Yes, I seem to recall you had a girlfriend last time, too.”

“This is different!” he roared.

“Oh, is it now?”

“Yeah, I’ve been with her for two years, and I’m in love with her, and I’m probably gonna spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Probably?” she noted.

“Yeah.” Dammit, this was pissing him off.

“Well, I hope so, Michael,” she said. “You’ve certainly broken enough hearts already. You really don’t need to add more to that total.”

He grunted and shook his head, growling out angrily, “Fuck you, Amy.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, you know what? Just move your fucking car so I can fucking leave.”

“Gladly.” She stomped back to her car, got in, and backed it up out onto the street.

Fucking bitch, Michael thought as he climbed in his car and floored it out of the driveway. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The whole drive home, he was fuming. It was people like Amy DeLuca who made Roswell miserable for him. She didn’t know anything about him anymore, about who he was or where his life was going, yet she just assumed he was going to cheat on Sarah? No. No way.

She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.

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

Maria sat up in bed that night, playing Trivia Crack on her phone. She had three games going—one against Liz, one against Alex, and one against Max’s mom—and she was losing all three of them. If there were more questions about music, maybe she’d stand a chance at winning, but she kept getting these damn science questions, which Liz especially was good at.

When Max staggered in, shirtless and in sweatpants, he looked haggard. “I’m so tired,” he groaned, barely making it to the bed before he just flopped down. “Today was a long day.”

“It was,” she agreed, mentally kicking herself when she got the answer to an entertainment question wrong. “They played better in the second game, though.”

“Still not good enough.” He yawned and pulled the covers up under his arms.

“At least Dylan ended up making a basket, though,” she pointed out. He and Luke were the only kids on their team who had scored.

“He just doesn’t like it,” Max bemoaned. “None of ‘em do. It’s like Michael brainwashed all of ‘em into thinking football’s the only cool sport.”

Clearly this conversation was taking a turn, so Maria set her phone aside. “Max.”

“What?”

“Are you jealous?”

He exhaled heavily. “Maybe a little. No, not—I don’t know. Not jealous. That’s not the right word.”

“Then what is?” Obviously he was upset, and he wouldn’t feel any better until he talked about it.

“I think I’m just . . . regretful,” he said contemplatively. “Because I know Michael had Dylan throwin’ a football around before he was even three years old, and maybe if I’d been around . . . well, maybe I could’ve had him shooting hoops.”

“It’s just a game, Max,” she reminded him. He didn’t need to dwell on it. Certain people were just more inclined to certain sports. And other people, like her, had no sports talent whatsoever. So at least Dylan had inherited Max’s athleticism.

“I know,” he said. “Hey, we’ll just have to see how baseball goes this summer. Maybe that’ll be his best sport.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, appreciating that he could at least be a little light-hearted about it.

“We just gotta win some games,” he said. “And I gotta try to make it fun for them.”

“You will.” If he didn’t take it so seriously, then the kids would loosen up out on the court. They’d win a game or two, and Dylan would score some more points. And even if it wasn’t his favorite sport, it wouldn’t be something he hated doing, either.

“Anyway . . . time to go to bed,” he decided, reaching over to turn out the light.

“Wait a minute.”

He reached back over and turned it on again. “What?”

“Well, I was kinda thinking that we should figure out what our plans are for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” he echoed.

“Yeah. New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh, right.” He rubbed his forehead, right in between his eyebrows as though he had a headache. “I don’t know, I was kinda thinking we just might stay in.”

“Really?” That was what they’d done last year.

“Well, yeah, we don’t have a babysitter lined up for Dylan.”

“Alex is watching Scarlet,” she told him. “Maybe he’d watch Dylan, too.”

“Maybe,” Max said. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Well . . . Sarah kind of invited us to this party she and Michael are having tomorrow night,” she replied, making sure to add, “And Liz, too.” For some reason, it always felt better with Liz there. Strength in numbers, perhaps.

“So she’s goin’?” Max asked.

“I think so.”

“And you wanna go, too?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind,” she said casually. “I mean, we’re young. We shouldn’t be cooped up on New Year’s.”

“I know,” he said, “but I’m so tired, and my throat’s startin’ to hurt. I think I’m comin’ down with something.”

“Oh.” Well, if he was getting sick, then he shouldn’t be going anywhere. “Okay. Yeah, we’ll just stay home then.”

“No, if you wanna go, you should go,” he said. “You and Liz . . . girl’s night or whatever.”

“Yeah, but . . .” New Year’s wasn’t exactly girl’s night for anyone. It was a romantic holiday, what with the midnight kiss and everything. “I don’t just wanna leave you here.”

“How about we just see what we feel like doing tomorrow, huh?” he suggested. “Sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said as he turned out the light again, obviously longing to get to sleep. But the problem with that was that she already knew what she felt like doing. She wanted to go.

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

Michael was so happy to leave Roswell. Being back in Carlsbad was like breathing fresh air again. Plus, his New Year’s party was going to kick ass. He was looking forward to it.

Since the dorms weren’t open again until tomorrow, they had to go off campus to host the party. But it worked out, because it was easier to have alcohol off campus, and Monk was fine with it. He rented his house, which he lived in alone, and it was a good space. People would show up.

“Is it even legal to shoot fireworks this time of year?” Sarah asked him while he tested out some bottle rockets in Monk’s driveway.

“Guess we’ll find out.” He took a few steps back and told her to plug her ears, because she hated the high-pitched sound this particular firecracker made. She did so right as it whistled up into the air.

“Where’d you get ‘em?” she asked.

“I know a guy.”

“How much did they cost?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Ever since he could remember, he’d loved blowing stuff up. But fireworks didn’t just have to be reserved for the Fourth of July. They worked for New Year’s, too.

“Do you have any colorful ones?” she inquired.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna wait until it’s darker to shoot ‘em off.” He had a few more bottle rockets to keep himself occupied until then.

“I like fountains,” she said. “Did you get any of those?”

“Just for you.”

“Aw . . .” She stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The front door opened, and Monk came outside for the first time in hours. “Alright, I’m heading out,” he announced.

“What? You’re leaving?” Sarah said.

“Yeah, I don’t really party.”

Well, that went without saying, but he was still technically hosting the party. “But Monk, it’s your house,” Michael pointed out.

“I trust you guys,” he said. “Besides, you know how awkward I get when things get crowded. And then I get even more awkward when things get awkward.”

“Yeah, you’re just awkward in general,” Michael agreed. “Well, if you’re sure you wanna go . . .”

“I’m sure,” Monk said. “I’m gonna go hang out with my gaming community tonight.”

That sounded . . . awful to Michael, but to Monk, it was probably the perfect way to ring in the new year. “Alright, well . . . have fun, man.”

“We won’t let things get too crazy around here,” Sarah assured him. “Bye, Monk.” She gave him a quick hug, but he didn’t really hug her back. He just held his hands out to the sides stiffly, and his eyes got really wide, as if he wasn’t used to having a girl hug him.

“Bye,” he said, quickly scampering down the sidewalk.

“He’s so weird,” Sarah said. “But nice.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, flicking the lighter on and off. He was just itching to set off a few more fireworks before people started showing up.

“Hey, so guess what?” she chirped. “Tess said she and Kyle are coming.”

“Oh, good.” Then this would be the first New Year’s in a long time that they hadn’t sat at home and watched the ball drop on TV.

“Yeah, hopefully it goes better than their last date,” she said.

“Well, Tess needs to get her head out of her ass and realize how hard Kyle’s trying,” Michael said.

“Or . . . Kyle needs to realize how far he’s alienated Tess and that it might take a long time to earn her trust back.”

“How long, huh?”

She sighed. “Hopefully just a few more months.”

“Yeah, really.” Soon enough, they’d have to be more united, because they’d have a baby to take care of. Probably a son.

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

While she was putting on makeup, Maria heard Max blowing his nose. Not a good sign. His prediction that he was getting sick was definitely turning out to be true. He wouldn’t be up to going anywhere tonight.

But I still wanna go, she thought, feeling bad for being so selfish. She hadn’t seen Michael in days, though, and she wanted to. She had something to give him.

“Max?” she said quietly as she went out into the living room. “You sound miserable.”

“I am,” he said, sneezing into the crook of his arm. “I think I’ve just been burning the candle at both ends between work and coaching.”

“Well, you’ve got a cold. Of course you feel tired.”

“Yeah, I can’t go anywhere tonight. I’m sorry,” he said.

“That’s okay.” She didn’t know how to ask him if it was fine for her to still go, though. She knew she didn’t need his permission, but it would be nice to know that he wouldn’t be upset if she left.

“I think Dylan and I are both gonna fall asleep early tonight,” he said.

“Is he getting sick, too?”

“No, he’s just still tired from the tournament yesterday.” His face wrinkled as he sneezed again.

“Well, I should . . . I should probably stay home and take care of you guys,” Maria said.

“We’ll be fine,” he assured her. “You go with Liz. Have a good time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Because I can stay . . .” she offered halfheartedly.

“Maria. Just go. Have fun. Tell Sarah I’m sorry I couldn’t come.”

“Okay,” she said, downplaying her excitement. She really did wish he could have gone with her. “I’ll be home in time to kiss you at midnight,” she promised.

“Alright, sounds like a plan.”

She nodded. Yes, it did.

Liz offered to swing by and pick her up, but they had to drive separately since Maria planned on leaving earlier. They arrived around the same time, though, at the address Sarah had texted them, and the party was already in full swing. There were so many cars parked along the street that they had to park a few blocks away. Music was playing from inside the house, but a lot of people were outside in the driveway, shooting off fireworks. Right as Maria got out of the car, a huge colored flair crackled high above them in the air. Blue and yellow. West Roswell colors.

“This looks fun,” Liz remarked.

Of course it did. No party Michael threw would be boring.

“Let’s find, Sarah,” Liz suggested, motioning for Maria to follow her up the driveway.

“Okay.” Maria didn’t want to be attached to either Liz or Sarah the whole night, though. She needed a moment alone with Michael.

Right now, though, that would be impossible, because he was surrounded by people. He and his friend Fly both had lighters in their hands, so apparently they were the ones setting off the fireworks.

She caught his eye and waved subtly, and he gave her a head nod in response. That was nonverbal Michael code for Hey. Fly, on the other hand, was very verbal. “Maria, Maria!” he sang out in his best Santana impersonation voice. “Hey, girl! Caliente!”

Maria laughed at him, shaking her head. He was a horn-dog, but not in a Ryan Adderman way.

“Do you know him?” Liz asked.

“Yeah, that’s Fly. He’s Michael’s friend.”

“Do you know all of Michael’s friends?”

“I’ve met a few of them a few times.” She looked back over her shoulder, at the group surrounding Michael as she and Liz went in the house. Just like high school, he was the center of attention. Everyone was drawn to him. It was impossible not to be.

There was much less activity going on inside, but there were a few people dancing, eating, making out on the couch, or plastering themselves to the keg. Sarah was standing at the window, though, talking to a girl Maria didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Sarah!” Liz chirped, practically skipping towards her.

“Hey!” Sarah exclaimed, immediately halting her conversation to give Liz a hug. “I’m so glad you guys could come.” She gave Maria a hug, too, and then quickly introduced all of them. “Oh, this is my friend Cheryl. Cheryl this is Maria and Liz.”

“Hi,” Cheryl said.

“Nice to meet you,” Liz said.

“You, too.”

“Cheryl is married to Steve, one of Michael’s really good friends,” Sarah explained.

“Steve.” Maria tried to match a face with that name, but she couldn’t. “I don’t think I’ve met him.”

“Oh, he’s been pretty sequestered lately,” Cheryl said. “We just had a baby a month and a half ago.”

“Oh, wow, congratulations,” Liz said.

“Thanks.”

“That’s amazing,” Maria said, noting the woman’s petite figure. “You look great.”

“Oh, I still need to lose a couple pounds,” Cheryl said, holding one hand to her stomach.

“Oh, please,” Sarah scoffed. “If I look half as good as you do after I have a baby, I’ll be thrilled.”

You’ll probably look amazing, Maria thought. You’ll have one of those perfect basketball-shaped tummies, and you’ll lose the weight in two seconds flat.

“So where’s Max?” Sarah inquired.

“Oh, he couldn’t come,” Maria told her. “He’s getting a cold.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yeah.” Truthfully, though, as horrible as it sounded . . . tonight might actually be a little bit easier without him. Sometimes it was hard for her to act natural when he and Michael were in the same place at once.

“There’s a lot of stuff going around,” Cheryl said. “Steve wasn’t feeling all that great, either, but he was determined not to miss this tonight. This is, like, our first night out since Nathan was born.”

“Then you needed this,” Sarah said.

“Yeah, you can’t devote your entire life to parenting,” Liz agreed. “I learned that early on. I love my daughter more than anything, but I need to go outside sometimes and just have fun and feel young and free, you know?”

“Definitely,” Cheryl agreed.

Maria started to drift off from their conversation, even though, as the most experienced mother of the bunch, she certainly could have taken part in it. While the three of them talked, she pretended to listen while inconspicuously looking out the window at the people—mostly guys—in the driveway. Michael was drinking with them, but he didn’t look wasted. He just looked . . . lively. He was laughing at things they said, and they were laughing at things he said, and the only thing that diverted their attention was another firework going off in the sky. Maria couldn’t see the colors from inside, but she saw the light, saw the way it illuminated Michael’s whole face. For a split second, he looked so young, almost like a boy. But when the firework’s light faded and his conversation picked back up, he looked like a man again.

She tried to look away . . . but she just couldn’t.









TBC . . .

-April

[keepsmiling7]

This is getting complicated......
What will Maria do with the ring??
Loved Scarlet cheerleading for her brother.
It does appear that basketball is not Dylan's sport......Max will have him try baseball later. Looks like he might be avoiding football (and Michael).
Can't wait to see what happens later at the party,
Carolyn

[sarammlover]

Oh April.....that line....so close to crossing it. Amy is a complete BITCH. I wanted to punch her. I seem to shake my head every week....

AAHHHHHHHHHHHH HA! See you next week!

[April]

Carolyn:

What will Maria do with the ring??

You'll find out in this part.

It does appear that basketball is not Dylan's sport......Max will have him try baseball later. Looks like he might be avoiding football (and Michael).

It's quite obvious at this point, I think, that this whole basketball vs. football thing is totally symbolic of Max vs. Michael.


Sara:

Oh April.....that line....so close to crossing it.

Oh, we can get closer.

Amy is a complete BITCH. I wanted to punch her. I seem to shake my head every week....

I don't know why Amy is such a bitch in so many of my fics. I mean, I love her in the show.


Thanks for reading and leaving feedback!

Music suggestion today. It's such a sexy song and really helped set the mood for a scene in this part that ended up being one of my favorites to write, for some reason. The song is "A Little Death" by The Neighbourhood, and you're encouraged to listen to it when you see if you'd like.








Part 42








“God, I feel uncomfortable,” Tess groaned as she and Kyle neared the house.

“It’s just a party,” he said, trying to keep up with her pace. This had been a hell of a walk for him. “I know we haven’t been to one for a while, but . . .”

“No, physically uncomfortable,” she clarified, “not socially.”

“Oh.” Duh. He felt like an idiot.

“My pants are way too tight,” she said, tugging on the belt loops of her jeans.

“Start wearing maternity pant then,” he suggested.

“Already? I’m not even that far along.”

“No, but . . .” He stopped himself before saying something that would piss her off. It seemed to him that Tess was starting to gain a lot of weight pretty quickly, and while it didn’t bother him at all, clearly she was unhappy about it. “I think you look beautiful,” he told her, reaching down to grab her hand.

“You’re just saying that,” she mumbled, sliding her hand out from his.

“No, I’m not.” He grabbed her hand again, determined to get closer to her tonight. Physically speaking. It didn’t need to be sex, or even a kiss. Hand-holding was a start. Especially since she didn’t pull away from him this time.

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

“I need another drink,” Michael declared, passing his lighter off to the guy who sat next to him in Social Psychology. “Fly, you’re on firework duty.”

“Got it, chico,” Fly said. “Watch out, mothafuckers! Boom goes the dynamite!”

Michael headed back inside, taking a second to appreciate the two hot girls who were making out on the couch. They were blonde like Isabel and Courtney, but they weren’t Isabel and Courtney. So it was hot.

“There’s my boyfriend,” Sarah said, motioning him over to the window where she, Cheryl, Liz, and Maria were gathered.

He dropped his empty cup into the trash can and sauntered towards her. “Hey, baby,” he said, wrapping one arm around her waist. He pulled her against his side and kissed her head. “Havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, lots of fun,” she said. “We’re having girl talk.”

“Ugh.” He cringed.

“We’re talking about babies,” Cheryl elaborated.

“Oh, really?” He looked down at his girlfriend and teased, “Can’t imagine you have a whole lot to offer to that convo.”

“Hey, I’m learning,” she said. “I’m getting all sorts of good advice, so when it does happen someday, I’ll be prepared.”

He laughed nervously, casting a quick glance at Maria. She was looking at the floor. It seemed like she didn’t quite want to be there.

“No Max?” he asked her.

She lifted her head and said, “No. He’s sick.”

Damn right he is, Michael thought, fighting the urge to grin. Oh, it served the bastard right to not be with Maria on New Year’s. And hey, maybe it was a good sign. They said the way you spent New Year’s Eve was the way you spent the rest of the year, after all.

“Well, I just came in to get another drink,” he said, loosening his arm around Sarah.

“Are you gonna shoot off more fountains?” she asked him.

“Yeah, later. Fly wants to set off the loud ones, though.”

“Those big boomers?” Sarah made a face. “Why? They’re so loud.”

“Yeah.” That was why they were cool.

“Well, I’ll stay in here until you’re done with those,” she said.

“Yeah, I hate those,” Cheryl agreed. “Or the ones that are just one big flash.”

“I know,” Liz added. “It’s, like, what’s the point?”

What are they talking about? Michael wondered. Every single firework on the planet was awesome as long as it exploded in some way, shape, or form.

“Actually, I kinda like those,” Maria said. “I might go out there for a while.”

“Okay,” Sarah said. “Come back in if you change your mind.”

“I will.” Maria took a few backward steps, making eye contact with Michael for just a split second. And then she turned and headed outside, but he sensed that, when he went back out there, she didn’t want him to go back to hanging out with the guys. She wanted him to come hang out with her.

“Alright, carry on with your gossip,” he told the girls.

“It’s not gossip,” Sarah corrected. “It’s girl talk.”

“Whatever.” It was all the same damn thing to him. He quickly went to the keg, squeezing in between a couple of sloppily drunk sophomores he barely recognized as coworkers, and poured himself another full glass of beer.

( )

Once he was back outside, he scanned the crowd of guests for Maria. He saw plenty of faces he recognized, but not one of them was hers. Where the hell was she?

He noticed Tess and Kyle down at the end of the driveway, engaged in some sort of conversation that must have been about Tess’s weight, because she kept making this big beach ball shape in front of herself, and he just kept shaking his head and making a skinnier shape with his hands.

Go talk to them, he thought, but he kept looking around for Maria instead.

“Yo, Mike!” Fly called. He tossed him back his lighter, and Michael caught it with his left hand.

I guess I could just light off some more, he thought, moving the lighter around in his hand. But Fly seemed to have it under control for now as he positioned another firecracker in the middle of the street.

“Michael.”

He whirled around when he heard Maria say his name. She stood a few feet away with two sparklers in her hand. “Sparklers?” she said. “Really?”

“Where’d you get those?”

“Your supply box.”

He glanced over her shoulder to see how many fireworks he had left in that box. They were shooting off a lot, so it was definitely dwindling. “I got ‘em for Sarah,” he lied. In all reality, he was actually kind of a sucker for sparklers. They were . . . pretty.

“Are you gonna light ‘em?” she asked.

“Yeah.” But not here, not in front of everyone. He didn’t want Sarah and those girls to look out the window and see him and Maria standing out there with each other. Sure, it was harmless, but . . . he just didn’t want them to see.

He handed his beer off to some girl and said, “Come with me,” taking one sparkler out of Maria’s hand.

“Where?”

“Just . . .” He motioned with his head for her to follow him. And she did.

They wound up around the side of the house by themselves, completely shrouded in darkness. He lit his sparkler, and it generated just enough light for him to see her face.

“These are dangerous,” she said.

“I know.” That was why he liked them. He waved his around in the air as it flickered wildly, emitting a golden color. “I feel like Tinkerbell.”

She laughed and said, “Light mine, too.”

He brought the lighter up to the tip of hers, and it crackled to life after a couple of seconds. Now he could see her face a little more clearly. She looked nice tonight. Light makeup, casual ponytail. That was all she needed.

“Good party, huh?” he said.

“Yeah.” She waved her sparkler in a circular motion in front of her while he held his off to the side, just letting it burn.

“Is Max really sick?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes.”

He smirked. “Good.”

She gave him a look, one that the sparklers barely allowed him to see. “That’s mean.”

“I don’t care.” When it came to Max, he’d never be nice.

Suddenly, a huge boom rang out in the air as Fly set off another firework, and she flinched.

“You don’t really like those, do you?” he deduced.

“No.”

“So why’d you come out then?”

“I just . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Bullshit. She could have stayed inside with Sarah and the others. Most girls would have. Clearly she had some reason for coming outside.

“I wanted to talk,” she revealed finally. “To you.”

“About sparklers?”

“No, not about sparklers.”

“About what then?”

Another booming firework. Another flinch. “I just need to talk you,” she said quietly. He could barely even hear her.

Suddenly, his stomach clenched. Oh, shit, he thought. Christmas. The meaningful present. Max really had gone and done it, hadn’t he? He’d proposed.

He tried to catch a glimpse of her left hand, but it was too dark to see, and she was holding her sparkler with her right hand.

“What is it?” he asked her fearfully, shaking his sparkler as it started to spark less. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Ignorance was bliss. Or whatever.

“We can’t talk here,” she said.

“Why not?” They were alone. It wasn’t as loud over here as it was out front.

“We just . . . can’t,” she said. Her sparkler started to fade out, too, as if to signal the conversation was over. Without the light, he could barely even see her.

“Alright,” he said, taking the metal stick back from her once it had burned out. “Later tonight then.”

He heard her inhale sharply, and that worried him. A lot.

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

“I’m so glad you and Maria could come,” Sarah told Liz as they made their way into the kitchen. Cheryl had stepped away to call her babysitter and check in. “It’s nice to see some familiar faces.”

“Do you not know many of these people?” Liz asked, taking a couple chips out of the huge bowl on the counter.

“I know some of them, but Michael knows all of them. He’s so popular.”

“Always has been.” Liz popped a few chips into her mouth, smiling as she recalled that old high school bravado he used to have. “You should have seen him and Kyle back in the day. They were, like, teenage royalty.”

“I’ll bet.” Sarah ate a few chips, too, then blurted, “Oh, guess what? Michael finally took me to your family’s restaurant. It was so cute.”

“Oh, yeah, my dad’s pride and joy. What’d you have?”

“Saturn Rings and Men in Blackberry pie.”

Liz laughed, shaking her head. Honestly, where else but the Crashdown would blackberry pie be a hit? “That pie’s, like, the most popular menu item,” she said. “Mainly because of the name, I think.”

“It was really good,” Sarah said. “So did you used to waitress there?”

Liz nodded. “Mmm-hmm. That’s actually where I, uh . . . met Michael.”

“Oh. Sounds familiar.”

“Yeah.” He definitely had a tendency to be a little overly flirty with his waitresses. “But what he and Maria had was on a totally different level than whatever he had with me.”

Sarah scrunched up her face. “He wasn’t a very good guy back then, was he?” she said.

“No.” In retrospect, it was easy to see that, but at the time, she’d been smitten. “That didn’t stop me from having a huge crush on him, though. Same with every other girl in town. I think he always just saw me as, like, the naïve, innocent private school girl he wanted to deflower, though. And he did.”

“He was my first time, too,” Sarah revealed.

“Really?”

“Yep. First and only.”

“Aw, that’s kinda sweet.” To be able to say that you had only ever had sex with one person, with the person you loved . . . that would have been nice. It wasn’t something most people could say.

“I’m glad I waited until I was in love,” Sarah said.

Liz grunted. “I wish I’d waited.” Physically, it had been good with Michael, but emotionally, he’d never been there.

“Who would you have waited for?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know.” That was a lie, though. She did know. “Probably Max.” It was no secret that she hadn’t just had a crush on him.

“You know, I think it’s really good that you and Max and Maria are all so close,” Sarah said. “Your kids are growing up surrounded by people who love them and support them. They’re lucky to have that.”

“Thanks.” Coming from Sarah, whose life was so obviously going according to plan, that was a big compliment. “Yeah, it’s . . . it’s all worked out well.” But even so . . . that didn’t mean it had worked out the way she’d thought it would.

****

Moving to Carlsbad was a huge undertaking. Luckily, since Max was in town visiting his mom, he’d stopped into see Scarlet, and he hadn’t objected when she’d asked for his assistance packing up.

“Thanks for helping, Max,” she said, amazed that she had so much stuff.

“Yeah, no problem.” He slid the top drawer out of her dresser, raising an eyebrow when he saw that that was her underwear drawer.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she mumbled, unembarrassed.

“True,” he said. He set that drawer down on top of her bed, then took the next drawer out and stacked it on top of the first one. “Hey, listen, I think it’s really cool that you’re doin’ this, startin’ up your own business.”

“And taking a couple classes on the side,” she reminded him. “American dream.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” he told her. “It takes guts.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” In all reality, he’d been the one to inspire her. Seeing him seek out the help he needed and turn his life around had made her believe that anything was possible if you just put your mind to it. “I’m proud of you, too,” she said. “You’ve really changed things around. It’s impressive.”

“Yeah, that’s what Maria said.”

“Maria?” she echoed. She knew that he and Maria were trying to work out their differences, but the way he said her name . . . it just sounded like those differences were already worked out. “Are you guys spending more time together?” she asked.

“Yeah. Actually, we’re, uh . . . we’re living together right now, in Houston.”

She felt her eyebrows shoot upward in surprise. “Oh.” That sounded . . . serious. “Oh, that’s . . . that’s great.” How had she not seen it heading this direction? She should have.

“Yeah, I never thought we’d get back together, but . . . it’s goin’ well,” he said. “And Dylan and I are really starting to bond. For the first time in a long time, I feel like things are working out.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Her voice came out sounding way too high-pitched, so she cleared her throat and asked, “So you’re . . . you’re happy?” That was all she really cared about. After everything he’d been through, everything he’d put himself through, she wanted to know that he’d come out on the right side.

“I’m happy,” he confirmed.

Happy with Maria, she registered. And Dylan. It made sense. Technically, they’d been his family longer than she had been. “Then I’m happy for you, Max,” she said, and a large part of her meant it. But an equally large part just kept repeating the words over and over again in her mind. I’m happy. I’m happy.

She was happy for him. She had to be.

****

“Hmm.” Liz tried to move the memory out of her mind, raking her hand through her hair. “You know what?” she said. “I could use a drink.”

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

Kyle sounded confident as he declared, “I got it all planned out.”

“Do you now?” Michael said.

“Yeah. Right at midnight, I’m gonna grab my girl, swoop her up, bend her down, and give her the best kiss of her life.”

Michael took a drink and doubtfully asked, “Can your back handle that?”

“It’s gonna have to, ‘cause that’s the plan.”

“Well, it’s a good plan.” Michael paused for a moment as Fly set off another firework. This one whistled up into the sky and exploded into purple and green flairs. Then he looked around the front lawn and spotted Tess huddled under a blanket next to Cheryl, who was huddled under a blanket of her own. Probably talking babies or something.

“Seems like she’s in a better mood tonight than she was at the club the other night,” Michael commented.

“Oh, a lot better,” Kyle agreed. “I’ll tell you what, though: She’s startin’ to stress out about her body.”

Michael made a face. “Why? She’s pregnant. She’s supposed to get fat.”

“It’s not even fat; it’s my child.”

“Boy or a girl?” Michael asked, even though they hadn’t found out yet. “Make a prediction.”

“I don’t know,” Kyle responded. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“I bet it’s a boy,” Michael wagered.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Cheryl and Steve had a boy. Tina found out she’s having a boy.”

“Really?”

“Yep. So that’s probably what you and Tess are gonna have.”

Kyle shrugged. “We’ll see. As long as it’s healthy . . .”

“Yeah.” That was the most important thing.

“I’m actually startin’ to look forward to it,” Kyle admitted suddenly.

“Good.” As long as Kyle kept trying to better himself, he’d be a good dad. And if he was a good dad, then he and Tess would be a good couple again. Things would always work out for the two of them. Things always did.

Another firework went off, and while everyone watched it crackle in the air, Michael’s eyes drifted elsewhere. Glancing towards the house, he noticed Maria slipping inside, and she made eye contact with him as she did so. He knew he was supposed to follow her. He knew they still needed to talk.

It was getting late. They really couldn’t put it off much longer.

“Hey, I’m gonna see how things are goin’ inside,” he told Kyle. “Alright?”

“Alright.”

He finished his beer on the way it and chucked it in the trashcan by the bottom of the stairs. He looked around the living room, but Maria wasn’t there. Sarah and Liz were dancing with a group of other girls, but Maria wasn’t one of them. Neither one of them noticed him.

“Michael.”

He jerked his head up when she called his name. At the top of the stairs, she motioned with her head for him to follow.

I might need another drink for this, he thought, but he went straight up instead of making a pit stop at the keg.

She opened the door to a bedroom that looked way too nice to be Monk’s, but it did have the cleanliness Michael expected of someone with mild OCD. Shango was staying up in this room while the party raged, lying underneath the bed with only his stubby little back legs sticking out.

“Is that . . .?” Maria started to ask.

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the fireworks.” Michael bent down and patted his dog’s butt, but that only made Shango scoot his legs in all the way underneath the bed.

“Well, here we are,” Maria said.

“Yep.” He wanted to catch a glimpse of her left hand, but she had a long-sleeved shirt on, and it was pulled down over her knuckles.

“Sorry I couldn’t talk outside,” she said. “I just . . .” She trailed off for a moment, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “I need it to be quiet.”

Well, it was quiet up here. He could feel the music playing downstairs more than he could hear it. It just sounded muffled. “So what’re we talkin’ about?” he asked, afraid he already knew.

She sighed and scooted over a bit. “Sit down.”

Oh, crap, he thought. This didn’t sound good. He sat down anyway, though, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say. He wasn’t going to be able to pretend to be happy for her, so his only hope was to keep his mouth shut and not say anything.

“You know how Max said he was gonna get me a really meaningful Christmas present?” she started in.

Here we go. He didn’t want to hear this. He couldn’t even look at her.

“Well . . . he did.”

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. He wasn’t going to freak out. No. Not with Sarah right downstairs. “So what is it?” he asked, his mouth tight.

Almost as if she were moving in slow motion, she reached her left hand into her pocket and pulled out . . . something. Something small. Something shiny. Fantastic.

She held out a ring, and he didn’t even want to look at it. But when he noticed how familiar it looked, he couldn’t look away.

He took it out of her hand, bringing it up close to his face to get a good look at it. Either he was seeing things, or he’d just traveled back in time, because this was . . .

What the hell was this?

“This is the ring I gave to you,” he said. “This is our engagement ring.”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

He spun it around between his fingers, eyeing it curiously. “Unbelievable,” he grunted. “Of course he gets you the exact same kind.” What a fucking loser. He couldn’t even pick out his own engagement ring. All he could do was copy what she’d already had.

“No, Michael’s, that’s . . . that’s the ring,” she clarified. “The one you gave me, right there.”

“What?” That ring was gone. It had been for years now. “That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

He wrinkled his face, completely confused.

“It didn’t fall down the drain like we thought it did,” she explained. “Max took it.”

“What?” he blared.

“I didn’t know. He only told me when he gave it back to me.”

Oh, that son of a bitch. It was a good thing he wasn’t there tonight, because Michael would have killed him. “Why the hell would he take your ring?”

“Because he was mad at me.”

“So he’s had it this whole time?”

“No, he sold it.” She hung her head, as if she were embarrassed on his behalf. “He said he always felt bad about it, so he tracked it down and bought it back again.”

He grunted, muttering sarcastically, “How noble.” This guy was a fucking bastard. Why couldn’t she see that? It didn’t matter that he’d gotten the ring back; all that mattered was that he’d taken it in the first place.

“I want you to have it,” she told him quietly.

He stared at her in disbelief. “Why?”

Her lips trembled for a moment, and her voice was shaky, too. “Because it’s yours.”

“No, it’s not.” He’d put it on her finger. She was the one who’d worn it.

“You’re the one who bought and paid for it,” she said, sounding way too logical for his liking.

“I bought it for you.”

“Well, it’s not mine anymore,” she whimpered, blinking back tears. “So just take it, okay?”

He stared down at the small diamond sadly. It didn’t matter how she tried to rationalize giving it back to him; it wasn’t his.

“I have to go,” she said, standing up.

“Maria . . .” He reached out and grabbed her hand, wanting her to stay. Slowly, he let his grip fall away from hers, though, and he sat there like an idiot, not knowing what to say.

“Happy New Year, Michael,” she said tearfully, managing a strained smile before she left the bedroom.

He sighed heavily, feeling like all the energy had left his body. His shoulders slumped, and he just kept sitting there with that ring in his hand. It was so small, and it had been gone for so long, but it still managed to bring back even more memories than his bedroom could. And that was saying something.

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

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

Tess searched around for Kyle, but she couldn’t find him.

“Six! Five! Four!”

Oh, well, she thought. The midnight kiss was a stupid tradition anyway.

“Three! Two! One!”

Out on the street, Fly lit was had to be the last of the fountain fireworks. It shot sparks into the air right as everyone yelled, “Happy New Year!”

She watched the fountain color change from green to blue to purple while everyone else around her partnered up and rang in the new year the way they were supposed to.

“Tess.”

Spinning around, she nearly bumped into Kyle. He was right behind her, staring at her intently. Before she even knew what was happening, one of his arms was around her waist, the other up by her shoulders, and he was bending her backward, dipping her down. He kissed her grandly, like a prince in a fairytale movie. And she kissed him back, head spinning.

When they came up from it, she literally felt breathless. That was . . . what was that? It certainly wasn’t the Kyle Valenti she’d grown accustomed to.

“Wow,” she gasped. “That was amazing.”

He smirked. “That was the plan.”

Oh my god, she thought. Oh my god. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest as she pressed her body into his and kissed him again, just to see if it still felt electric. And it did. It wasn’t a one-time thing.

Kyle . . . This might not have solved all their problems, but for tonight, it reignited something within her. Because she was gradually starting to see that, even after everything, he was still in there.

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

What the hell’s going on out there? Michael wondered. It had gotten really loud a moment ago, and now it sounded like Fly was shooting off the rest of their fireworks.

He glanced at the clock, horrified to see the time. “Oh, shit.” He got up and bolted out of the bedroom, shocked that he’d been sitting in there for ten minutes. He raced downstairs, pocketing Maria’s ring on the way, and searched for his girlfriend. His girlfriend. The one who wanted and deserved a kiss from her damn boyfriend at midnight.

“Sarah?” he called, looking around the house. “Sarah?” Not there. He flew outside, and there she was, close to the door.

“Michael!” She sounded relieved to see him.

“I’m sorry--”

She threw herself into his arms, kissing him, cutting him off. She didn’t seem upset that he was a minute or so late. She just seemed happy to be kissing him.

When she pulled back and gazed up at him, she didn’t ask him where he’d been, or yell at him for not getting down there sooner. Instead, she just beamed a smile and said, “I love you.”

I know you do, he thought. She didn’t need to say it; he knew it. It was obvious. “I love you, too,” he told her, forgetting about that ring in his pocket as he bent his head to kiss her again.

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

“Dammit,” Maria swore as she practically burst through the front door. “Max?” The house was dark, no lights on, so she hurtled herself down the hallway and into the bedroom, well aware that she’d missed the midnight mark and broken her promise to be there when the new year hit. She was too late.

“Max?” When she opened the bedroom door, she found him on his side, fast asleep. The wastebasket from the bathroom was by the side of the bed, full of tissues, and he was still clutching one tissue in his hand.

She cast a quick glance at the clock. 12:02. They were already in the new year. So there was no point in waking him up just to kiss him. Especially when he wasn’t feeling well. So she shut the door, opting to just let him sleep instead.








TBC . . .

-April

[sarammlover]

First off...YAY for Tess and Kyle!!! The spark, they both still feel it!! WOOHOO!

Liz, still in love with Max. I wish Max and Maria would realize they don't really love each other and let max move on with Liz. I know you said Michael and Maria are going to get closer to that line but man....what will happen to Sarah? Great update!

[April]

Sara:

First off...YAY for Tess and Kyle!!! The spark, they both still feel it!! WOOHOO!

As the young kids these days say . . . YAAASSS!

Liz, still in love with Max. I wish Max and Maria would realize they don't really love each other and let max move on with Liz.

Well, and just the way you worded that says something. Liz, still "in love" with Max. It's possible that Maria does love Max but just isn't in love with him.

I know you said Michael and Maria are going to get closer to that line but man....what will happen to Sarah?

Who knows? (Well, I know, but . . . . ) Hopefully, even if they get closer to that line, they won't cross it while Michael and Sarah are together.



Thanks for reading!








Part 43








“Home sweet home,” Sarah said as she pushed open the door and practically fell into their apartment. She lugged her suitcase behind her while Michael carried both their bags.

“Feels good to be back,” he said, nudging Shango inside gently with his foot. His dog seemed as lethargic as they both were. None of them had slept at all last night.

Yawning, Sarah set her suitcase down and stretched out her limbs. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.

“Let’s just sleep all day,” he suggested. They still had a few days of Christmas break left. No class. No work. No worries.

“Sounds good,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Mmm, I think I’m gonna take a shower before I crawl into bed.” She waited a few seconds, then asked, “Care to join me?”

Well, apparently she wasn’t too tired to fool around a little. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Okay.” She padded into the bathroom, smiling coyly as she slipped inside and shut the door.

He waited until he heard the water start to run before he made his way over to his dresser and pulled open the top drawer. Hesitantly, he reached into his pocket and took out the ring that had been stashed there for seven hours. He couldn’t just get rid of it. And he didn’t want to. But he wasn’t going to put it in a fucking display case, either.

Reaching far back into the drawer, he found a pair of socks he never wore, unfolded them, and dropped the ring into one of them. Then he rolled them back up, moving them around in his hands for a moment. He couldn’t even feel the ring in there. It was definitely hidden.

Which was exactly where it needed to be.

He put the socks back in, pushing them as far back as possible, and closed the drawer. Then he went to join Sarah in the bathroom, taking his shirt off as he went inside.

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

The rest of Christmas break was pretty uneventful, but Michael didn’t mind. He spent a lot of time watching TV, including an epic American Ninja Warrior marathon that motivated him to go hit the weight room a couple times. He went to the bookstore and rented all his textbooks for his new classes. Couple hundred bucks out the ass.

He had Mondays open this semester, which meant that Music Appreciation 2 on Tuesday would be his first class. Undeniably, he was looking forward to it.

“Second semester,” he said as he and Steve walked to class.

“Feels like we never left,” Steve remarked.

“Bro, are you gonna be able to handle all this shit? Takin’ classes and working and raising a kid?” It sounded . . . painful.

“I’m gonna try,” Steve said, ever the optimist. “I’ll see you later, man.”

“Later.” They split off, headed in opposite directions, and Michael didn’t have much further to go. Glancing up ahead, he saw Maria walking up the steps of Lecuona Hall. It wasn’t that cold out today, but she was once again wearing his sweatshirt.

“Maria!” he called, trotting towards her.

She stopped on the outside steps and waited for him.

“Hey,” he said, glad to see her. Now that the semester was staring up again, they could get back to work, too, and he could boss her around a little more.

“Hey,” she said, looking likewise glad to see him.

The class was basically just déjà vu of the last one. Same lecture hall, same professor, and a lot of the same people. Although not everyone had opted to take it, so it certainly seemed a little more sparse when they walked in there.

“I’m glad we’re in the same room again,” Maria said as they made their way to their usual seats. “I like sitting in the back.”

“This is the only class where I’m a back-rower,” he said.

“Yeah, aren’t you usually in the front three?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, shaking his head at himself as he took a seat. “God, I’m a nerd, aren’t I?”

“No,” she said as she sat down next to him. “You’re just smart.”

Maybe, he thought. Sometimes.

There was a lot of conversation going on all over the room. People were getting caught up with each other, bragging about what they’d done over Christmas break and what gifts they’d gotten. Michael didn’t care about any of it. He didn’t know one other person in that class, never talked to any of them. And as long as Maria was in there with him, he probably never would.

“So what’d you do with the ring?” she asked him suddenly.

“Threw it in the river.”

“What?”

“No.” He smiled, loving that the thought of it got her a little hysterical. “I’ll keep it.”

Her whole body relaxed, like she was relieved he hadn’t just thrown it away. He’d never do that. Wasn’t even an option.

Minutes later, the professor practically bounded into the classroom, looking absolutely pumped up for the first day. “Alright, welcome to Music Appreciation 2, everyone,” he said, and behind him, his TA, who was also the same as last semester, waved. “Who’s excited for another semester of this class?”

No one said anything, but Michael grinned. Because he was excited.

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

Sarah spent her lunch break with Tess that day, eager to get caught up with her best friend. They hadn’t gotten to spend much time together since the New Year’s, and she wanted to hear how things were going with Kyle. Instead of talking about him, though, Tess started in about her job.

“So I’m done,” she blurted. “I quit.”

“You mean, you quit coaching?” Sarah asked for clarification.

“Yeah. I was more of a glorified servant anyway.” Tess stopped their waiter as he walked by and said, “More breadsticks please?” She’d already eaten about five of them.

“So what’re you gonna do for money?” Sarah inquired.

“Well, Kyle’s dad’s helping, and my parents are helping, too. I’ll get another job at some point, maybe after the baby’s born.”

“Yeah.” Babies were expensive. Either she or Kyle was going to have to work. They might even both have to.

“I hate to leave those poor girls with Kristin and Stephanie,” she bemoaned, “but I just can’t do it. I can’t work there and be pregnant at the same time.”

“The morning sickness is still really bad, huh?” Sarah guessed.

“Well, it’s not fun, obviously,” Tess acknowledged. “But it’s more than that. I just feel so . . . like, fatigued. All the time.”

“I think that’s normal.”

“But it’s ridiculous. I mean, take the other night for example. At the party, Kyle and I had this, like, incredible, time-stopping kiss.” Her eyes glimmered, and she held her hand to her chest and breathed in dizzily as she described it. “So we were feeling really good, and we thought we might go home and . . . you know, feel good together.”

Sarah laughed. “Okay, stop trying to be coy. You wanted to have sex.”

“Yes, we did. First time in a long time. Anyway, he goes to the bathroom for, like, a minute, and when he comes back out, apparently, I’m fast asleep.”

“Well, it was a late night,” Sarah rationalized.

“But it’s sex, Sarah. It’s sex with Kyle. Like old-school Kyle, too, not down-in-the-dumps depressed Kyle. Old-school Kyle was like a machine in the sack.”

“Wow.” Having only know new-school Kyle, Sarah had a hard time imagining that. But it made sense. He’d been a good-looking athlete, just like Michael.

“Exactly, wow. And I just dozed off on him.” Tess flapped her arms helplessly against her sides, immediately sitting up straighter when the waiter brought their second helping of breadsticks to the table. She tore into them like an animal. “Mmm, so good. But I shouldn’t be eating them, see? ‘cause I’m already getting huge.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I am,” she insisted. “I feel like I’m getting fatter faster and sleepier sooner, and it really sucks.”

“It’ll be worth it in the end,” Sarah reminded her. “You and Kyle are gonna have a family in the end.”

“Yeah.” It took Tess a few seconds, but for the first time since she’d found out she was pregnant, Sarah actually saw her smile about it.

Things were looking up.

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

“God, this sucks,” Kyle groaned as he struggled to lower the handles of the bicep pulldown machine in the rec center’s weight room. He only got it halfway down before he had to let it up and release it. “This used to be so easy.”

Michael put the weights he was lifting back on their designated spots on the rack and assured his friend, “You’re doin’ fine.”

“No, I’m not. It’s embarrassing,” Kyle lamented.

“You just gotta pace yourself.” This was his first time back in the weight room in . . . years. It wasn’t going to be easy.

Kyle sighed, getting to his feet. “The way I see it, I’ve got this semester,” he said. “Then I gotta be back to my normal self.”

Michael didn’t want to burst his bubble or anything, but that seemed a little unrealistic. “Hate to break it to you, buddy,” he said, “but you’re never gonna be the way you used to be.”

“I know,” Kyle said, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his head. “I know I’m not gonna be runnin’ around any football fields. But at least maybe I can run around the backyard with my son. Or daughter.”

“Yeah.” That seemed like a much more realistic, attainable goal.

Michael grabbed his water bottle and sat down on the floor, taking a drink. Kyle groaned as he sat down beside him, holding his back. “Don’t overdo it,” Michael cautioned with him. Going from the pool to the weight room was a big step.

“No, I’m fine,” Kyle said. “I’m just outta shape, outta practice.”

“It’ll get easier.”

“I hope so. I wanna come every other day,” he decided. “I really wanna—I wanna step it up, you know? I wasted so much time.”

“Well . . .” Two years was a long time, but better late than never. “You just had to find the right motivation.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely motivating.” Kyle held out his hand, and Michael gave him his water bottle so he could take a drink, too. “I just wanna be a good dad, you know?”

“Yeah.” He knew.

“I don’t wanna be a bad one.”

Hmm. He knew plenty about that, too.

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

Pound Elementary started back up a few days after Michael’s college classes did. He would have forgotten to go on Wednesday if Vanessa hadn’t called to remind him. He skipped lunch that day, otherwise he would have shown up late, and he ended up getting there while the kids were having their own lunchtime. He automatically went to Vanessa’s office, figuring she’d tell him what to do, even though she technically wasn’t supervising him anymore.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked her.

She looked disheveled as she searched frantically through a stack of papers and folders on her desk. “Oh, first day back,” she groaned, barely even looking up at him. “It’s hectic.”

“Is Jake here?”

Before she could even answer, he heard a loud, high-pitched scream from out in the lunch room. Well. That answered that question.

“Wish me luck,” he said, ducking out of her office.

When he got out to the lunch room, it wasn’t hard to spot Jake. Not only was he screaming at the top of his lungs, but he was pounding his fists on the table, kicking at it from underneath. His lunch tray sat in front of him, untouched, and one of the poor staff members on lunch duty was trying unsuccessfully to get him to calm down. The other kids all sat around him, but not with him, staring at him as if he were a creature from outer space. A few were laughing.

“Oh, shit,” Michael whispered. What had he gotten himself into here?

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

As Sarah’s hands rubbed up and down his back, Michael felt some of the stress from the day start to dissolve. “That feels good,” he said. “That makes my ears feel better.”

“Well, I don’t know what a massage has to do with your ears,” she said, “but that’s okay. I just like to have an excuse to get my hands on you.”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She giggled and then pressed down hard on his lower back, working out some knots he hadn’t even known were there. “So he just screamed all afternoon then?” she said.

“Yeah, I couldn’t get him to stop.” He’d taken him to all of his afternoon classes and sat him in the back, as far away as possible from all the other kids. But he’d lasted a maximum of ten minutes in each of them before he had to be taken out. “I don’t know, I’m kind of second-guessing what I signed up for here.”

“Well, he needs the help,” she said. “And that’s the career you wanna get into, helping people.”

“Yeah.” This massage was helping him, though. He was going to need one of these every night after working with this Jake kid.

“And you said he stopped screaming when his parents got there?” she recapped.

“Yeah, then he was fine.” It had been like magic when they’d walked in the resource room. All the screams had stopped, and he’d just run up to them and hugged them. Anyone who would have just seen that side of him would have thought he was a nice, normal boy.

“Well, clearly you just have to get to know him and gain his trust then,” she advised. “Once you do that, I’m sure you’ll find a way to reach him.”

He hoped so. She had a lot of confidence in him, and he didn’t want it to be misplaced.

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

“Since this is the second tier of your immersion in Music Appreciation, we will be upping the ante in terms of the academic expectations. And that’s gonna start right away.”

Michael rolled his eyes as the professor droned on and on. Why not have an open mic night or something, except during the day? That would help him appreciate music way more than any tests or homework assignments would.

“You’ll be writing a paper of at least three pages in length, due next Friday,” the professor informed them. “In it, I want you to articulate what you believe to be the most influential decade of music in our nation’s history. Now it can be one of the decades we’ve studied or one we have yet to study, but you should be specific in the musicians or songs you reference, and it should be persuasive.”

Michael twisted his torso to the side, stretching out. “I know what I’m gonna do,” he declared. “Nineties.”

“The grunge era,” Maria said. “But you do realize none of that nineties rock would exist if the fifties hadn’t given birth to rock and roll, right?”

“What, so that’s what you’re doin’, the fifties?”

“Maybe.”

He made a face. “Ugh.” The fifties unit in this class had nearly put him to sleep.

“Oh, come on, it’s supposed to be an influential decade of music,” she said, her voice getting louder as she argued with him. “I love the nineties, don’t get me wrong, but they weren’t even that long ago. They haven’t even had time to influence anything.”

“They don’t need time.”

“Yes, they do.”

The professor raised his voice and gruffly asked, “Am I interrupting something back there?”

Constantly, Michael thought. The amount of time that he and Maria spent talking back there versus the amount of time they spent actually paying attention was . . . disproportionate.

“No,” Maria said. “Sorry.”

Their professor gave them both a stern look, then continued on. “As I was saying, Billy will be available to meet with all of you and help you with your paper.” Behind him, his TA waved his hand. “He is an excellent resource, so utilize him.”

Michael moved down lower in his seat, trying to go unnoticed as he started up his teasing. “Nice going, Maria. You got me in trouble.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. I’m a good kid.”

She rolled her eyes, but he could always tell she wasn’t really annoyed when she smiled at the same time.

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

After class, Maria reluctantly accepted Michael’s invitation to go back to his apartment. Just for research, of course, nothing inappropriate. At first, it felt a little weird to be alone with him there. But as long as she just sat at the computer and focused on what she was doing, then that weirdness started to go away.

“You know, we could’ve just gone to the library,” she pointed out, sifting through search engine results. He and Sarah only had one computer to use.

“We could’ve,” he agreed flippantly as he attempted to play with a hacky sack in the living room. He was totally unfocused, because he’d found that little multi-colored bean bag on the walk home, and it was like treasure to him.

“Is Sarah gonna be weirded out if she comes home and sees me here?” she inquired. The whole time she’d been sitting there, she’d felt nervous about the possibility.

“She’s not coming home,” he told her as he kicked the ball back and forth, using the sides of his feet to keep it controlled. “She’s working all afternoon.” He kicked it a little too far forward, though, and it fell to the floor. “Dammit,” he swore, “why the fuck am I not good at this?” He picked up the hacky sack and started tossing it back and forth from hand to hand instead.

“Are you even gonna do any research?” she asked him.

“Eventually. We got a whole week.”

“Well, I’ve already found most of what I need,” she boasted. “Look at this: a six-page essay somebody wrote about why the fifties was the definitive decade of music.”

“Cool,” he said. “Plagiarize the hell out of it.”

“No way. Is that what you do?”

“That’s what I did in high school,” he said. “Now I just write shit and Sarah proofreads it for me.”

Oh, of course, Maria thought. She’d be great at that, too. “You’re so spoiled,” she said.

“I know.” He finally stopped throwing that hacky sack around and came towards her. “Let me see that,” he said, bending down to get a closer look at the computer screen. She tried not to react as he moved in close behind her, his head near her own. He read the first couple lines, then shrugged and said, “Whatever,” as he stood up straight again. “Fifties don’t have Metallica.”

“Is that what it all comes down to for you, one band? Because they debuted in the eighties.” She opened up a new internet tab and typed in Metallica debut on Google, and the exact year came up. “1981.”

“Fine, Nirvana then.”

She replaced Metallica with Nirvana and searched again. “ ‘87.”

“Radiohead.”

“ ‘85.”

He was starting to look frustrated. “Fucking Backstreet Boys then.”

She laughed and quickly searched that one, too. “Ooh, ’93. There, that one works.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter when the bands formed,” he argued. “It matters when they were most influential.”

“But Metallica’s biggest hits were in the eighties,” she pointed out.

“No, not ‘Enter Sandman,’ and that’s my favorite Metallica song.”

“Fine, stick with the nineties then.”

“I will. You stick with your fifties.”

She sighed, doubting whether she could get a whole paper out of that, though. “I don’t know, I kind of like the sixties, too.”

Finally, they agreed. “Yeah!” he said emphatically. “Stoner music.”

“That’s when the Righteous Brothers recorded their version of ‘Unchained Melody.’”

The mere mention of that song was enough to finally get him serious. “I got that on my iPod,” he told her. “We could play it.”

Oh my god, she thought. Is he serious? Part of her wanted to take him up on that offer, but a much more logical part knew it wasn’t a good idea. “No,” she said.

“No.” It seemed like he was only saying that because she had.

Maybe I should go, she pondered. Maybe it wasn’t okay for her to be there if that song was playing in the back of her mind now.

“You want a beer?” he asked as he headed into the kitchen.

“Um . . .” She got up, still debating whether or not she should find a reason to walk out that door. “Sure, yeah.” She followed him into the kitchen, and Shango followed her, nuzzling his head against her leg. “He’s so cute,” she said.

“Yeah, he’s a stud,” he agreed, handing her a Budweiser can.

“Thanks,” she said, popping the tab open. She took a small sip, but he took a big gulp of his.

“You want some beer, Shango?” he asked his dog. “You can’t have any. You’re too young.”

“He’s such a nice dog,” she said, bending down to pet him. “I wouldn’t mind getting a dog.”

“Does Max not want one?”

“He just thinks it’d be a lot of work.”

Michael shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have a kid to take care of, too,” she pointed out.

He pressed his lips together tightly, staring down at his beer can. “No, I don’t.”

She frowned and stood up again, wishing she hadn’t said that.

“But everyone else does. Do you notice that?” he went on. “You and Max have a kid. Max and Liz have a kid. Max should really get a vasectomy. Tess and Kyle are gonna have a kid. My fucking little sister’s gonna have a kid, for crying out loud.”

“Yeah, but . . .” She circled her index finger around the rim of her beer can, collecting the liquid that had gathered. “You know part of the reason why you’ve had so much success in college is that you’re not tied down with fatherhood, right?”

“I guess,” he muttered, taking another drink. He shuffled into the living room then and sat down on the couch. Shango eagerly hopped up beside him, but Maria took her seat next to him a bit more hesitantly, being careful not to sit too close.

“So did Dylan say anything to you about Jake?” he questioned.

“The new kid?” He’d said a whole lot, even demonstrated the lunchroom scene for her. “Oh, yeah. He didn’t really know what to think.”

“Is he freaked out about Circle of Friends now?”

“A little bit.” She’d tried to reassure him that it wouldn’t be a big deal, and that people wouldn’t make fun of him for being a part of it. No one outside of the circle would even know. “Maybe if you talk to him, it’d make him feel better,” she suggested. Michael would definitely be able to make Dylan feel more at ease about the whole thing, not only because he was a counselor-in-the-making, but just because he was . . . Michael.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said. They settled into a comfortable silence for a few seconds, and then he broke it when he looked over at her, shook his head, and laughed lightly.

“What?” she asked.

“Just . . . five months ago, did you ever think we’d be able to sit here like this, drinkin’ beer and hangin’ out?”

Five months ago, even though she’d thought about him a lot, she’d mostly just thought about the past. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she admitted.

“Aren’t you glad you did, though?”

She hadn’t been at first. But now . . . she was getting so used to having him back in her life. As a friend. “Yeah,” she said quietly. She was really, really glad.

He smiled at her warmly. “Me, too.”

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

At lunch the next day, Michael had to call Jake’s parents. The kid was just completely out of control. Not only was he kicking and screaming, but now he was throwing his food, too, and some of it had landed on a little first grade girl. Of course she’d started crying when that happened. It was a disaster.

Jake’s mom was there in no time, as if she were used to it, and with fifteen minutes left in the lunch period, Michael found himself with a rare moment of peace and quiet. He took the opportunity to pull Dylan aside to one of the outer tables and sit down with him to talk to him like he’d promised Maria would. He tried to explain what Jake’s autism meant in a way that Dylan could understand, and Dylan asked him plenty of questions. The last one, though, was, “Why do I have to be his friend?”

“Well . . . you don’t have to,” Michael told him. “But aren’t you pretty much friends with everybody?”

Dylan thought about it for a minute, then nodded. “Not girls, though.”

“Yeah, not yet.”

Dylan made a face and shook his head adamantly. “Never.”

“Okay, fine, never.” He’d change his mind about that soon enough. “But you’re friends with all the other boys your age, right? And I mean, let’s be real here, you and Luke . . . you guys are kinda popular. Like me and Coach Kyle, you know what I mean?”

Dylan smiled proudly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, exactly. So when you’re that popular and you have that many friends, you gotta be a leader.”

“A leader?” Dylan echoed.

“Yeah, do you know what that is?”

“Uh-huh.” Dylan bit into a celery stick, chewed it for a few seconds, and then spit it out into his napkin. “It’s . . .” He trailed off as he struggled to come up with an answer. Or maybe he just couldn’t find the right words.

“It’s when people do the same thing you do, right?” Michael hinted.

“Right.”

“So if you’re nice to Jake, and if you’re friends with him, then don’t you think other people would be nice to him and be friends with him, too?”

“Hmm . . .” Dylan wrinkled his face momentarily, the nodded. “Yep.”

“So you and the other guys who are in Circle have a chance to do something really good for Jake. Because even though he’s a little different, don’t you think he wants to have friends just like everyone else?”

Dylan nodded again.

“Yeah, so . . . it’s not gonna be so bad, right?”

“I guess not,” Dylan decided, arranging all of his remaining celery and carrot sticks on a napkin. As if to say he didn’t want them, he slid the napkin over to Michael.

“Thanks,” Michael told him, taking a carrot stick. He hated vegetables, but what the hell? He took a bite just to be polite. “Alright, well, I’m sure you want me to leave you alone so you can go finish lunch with your friends.”

“No,” Dylan whimpered.

“You don’t want me to go?”

“No.”

Michael couldn’t help but smile at that. Oh, Dylan . . . He loved this kid.

“My dad eats lunch with me,” Dylan told him as he started to move his carrots and celery into some sort of design.

And just like that, Michael’s smile fell. “Oh, yeah? He does that sometimes?”

“Yep.”

He sighed, feeling deflated now. It didn’t matter how much Dylan liked spending time with him, because at the end of the day, Max was able to spend a much larger amount of time with him than Michael was. He had to force himself to suck it up and remind the little boy, “I’m not your dad, though.”

Eyes glued on the vegetable pattern in front of him, Dylan mumbled, “Yeah, you are.”

Michael’s whole body stilled, and he just stared at Dylan in disbelief, watching wordlessly as his design on the napkin finally materialized into a smiley face. I’m not your dad, he kept thinking over and over again. I’m not. But even though he thought it, he didn’t have it in his heart to say it out loud again.

After school got out, he headed straight to work to finish training Maria, and his intention was to mention what Dylan had said while they were there. But she got started on the mail, and he started to chicken out the longer he sat there and waited.

“No funny names today,” she said as she distributed all the envelopes and packages into their correct mailboxes.

“That’s disappointing,” he said.

“I know. I was really hoping Miles Long would get something.”

“Hmm.” He willingly distracted himself with a pen he was trying to get to stand upright on the counter, for no purpose at all whatsoever.

“So did you talk to Dylan today?” she asked.

Then pen fell right over. “Uh, yeah.”

She emerged from the little mailroom, sitting beside him. “What’d you say?”

He shrugged. “I just kinda reminded him why we chose him for Circle of Friends anyway. He seems cool with it.”

“Good,” she said. “Thanks for doing that.”

“No problem.” Maybe they could just leave it at that.

Of course, though, she just had to ask, “So what did he say?”

He called me Dad for the third time in four months, Michael thought. I really should tell you.

“Michael?” she prompted.

“Oh, uh . . .” The words were right there, on the tip of his tongue, but what good would it do to tell her? She’d get weirded out by it, and then she’d go home and talk to Dylan about it, and then he’d get confused and think he’d done something wrong, and then the whole thing would blow up into a bigger deal than what it really was.

“He just said he’ll try with Jake,” he told her. “Try his best.”

“Yeah, he will,” she agreed. “He’s a good kid.”

The best, he thought.

“Alright, where’s my next pile?” she asked.

He handed her the stack of envelopes for the suites on the second floor, and she got up and headed back into the mail room again.

Sorry, Maria, he thought. He really had meant to tell her, but . . . he just couldn’t.








TBC . . .

-April

[sarammlover]

I really thought Michael was going to be able to get through to Jake. I hope it gets better and I do feel for Dylan. That is a pretty young age to have something like Jake thrust upon him. he doesn't quite know how to handle it. And yay for Tess....quit her job! GOOD! And she actually seems happy about the baby now....so exciting. Glad to see Kyle back in the gym.... great update ApriL!

[April]

Sara:

I really thought Michael was going to be able to get through to Jake. I hope it gets better and I do feel for Dylan. That is a pretty young age to have something like Jake thrust upon him. he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Yeah, Michael's got a challenge ahead of him with young Jake here, and you're right, Dylan's really young to have a responsibility like this put upon him. But clearly the adults in his life think he can handle it, otherwise they would never have referred him to be a part of the Circle of Friends group.

And yay for Tess....quit her job! GOOD! And she actually seems happy about the baby now....so exciting. Glad to see Kyle back in the gym.... great update ApriL!

Those two are making some progress!


Thanks for reading and leaving feedback!








Part 44








When there was a knock on the door that evening, Scarlet seemed to know who it was instantly. She put her toys down and started to waddle towards the door, but Liz got in front of her and opened it. “Hey, Max,” she said. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d stop by and see my little girl,” he said, bending down as Scarlet scampered into his arms. She giggled as he lifted her up and held her against his side.

“Come on in,” Liz said, stepping aside. She shut the door and stood back, watching adoringly as Scarlet touched her daddy’s face. She was doing this thing lately where she’d touch his nose, and then her nose, his mouth and then her mouth, as though she were making sure they looked the same. “Such a Daddy’s girl,” she remarked.

“Fine by me,” Max said, sitting down on the couch. He started bouncing her up and down on his knee—it was like a ride for her—and asked Liz, “You still comin’ to Dylan’s birthday party tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said. She wouldn’t miss it.

“We got him his first Xbox,” Max revealed.

“Oh, he’ll love that.”

“Yeah.” Max stopped bouncing Scarlet and set her down on the floor. “Go play,” he told her.

She crawled back to her toys, picked up her favorite stuffed animal, a purple monkey, and threw it at him. Then, as if she immediately wanted it back, she reached out her arms for it. He made it dance around in front of her for a moment, then gave it back to her. “Hey, so I got a proposition for you,” he announced.

“Oh?” She sat down next to him on the couch, intrigued, but also a bit wary. He wasn’t going to ask her to bring a cake tomorrow, was she? Because she’d sold her last one in stock today.

“There’s this guy I work with on the construction crew named Alan,” Max started in. “He’s about the closest thing I have to a male friend; he’s a good guy.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this.

“Anyway, I was showin’ him pictures of Dylan and Scarlet on my phone, and we ran across this picture of you at Christmas, and he just . . . he really felt attracted to you.”

“You mean to my picture?”

“Well, yeah. So he was askin’ about you, and I told him what you’re like, and he seems pretty interested.”

“Interested?” she echoed. “Wait, are you trying to set me up on a blind date?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Oh, this is so weird, she thought. Yeah, she and Max were friends nowadays, but he was still her ex-boyfriend, still the father of her child. For him of all people to play matchmaker was just . . . unexpected. “I don’t know . . .” she said, doubtful that it would amount to anything.

“Liz, trust me, you’d like him. He’s nice, he’s smart, he works out. He makes, like, ten-thousand dollars more than I do.”

“Then maybe you should date him,” she joked.

“If I was gay, I probably would.”

She laughed at that, but inside, she was still skeptical. “Oh, I don’t know, I’ve just gone on so many dates over the years.”

“Well, I just figured you might be interested,” he said. “Unless you and Alex are . . .”

“Me and Alex?” Why did everyone think they were going to get involved now?

“Well, yeah, I just assumed . . .”

“Alex and I are friends,” she told him. “We’re not gonna be anything more than friends.”

“Okay, so give Alan a try,” he suggested. “Here, I got a picture of him.” He whipped out his phone and showed her a picture of himself with Alan on site of a house they were building. It must have been taken a couple of months ago, because they were both wearing short-sleeved t-shirts. Alan was tall, blonde, tan, and muscular like Max. He sort of looked like an all-American Ken doll.

“Okay, fine,” she relented, swayed by his handsomeness. “Give him my number. Tell him to call me.”

“Awesome. He’s gonna be stoked.” Max put his phone away and slid down onto the floor to take Scarlet into his arms again. “You hear that, sweetheart?” he said. “Your mom’s goin’ on a date. What do you think about that?”

Scarlet laughed, reached up, and squeezed Max’s nose.

Liz sighed, wishing she had some kind of playful reaction. But the truth was, dating was such a chore at this point. She was twenty-two; she was a mom. She was ready to settle down. With someone special.

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

Dylan tore off the remainder of the wrapping paper covering his last present, and when he saw the green and white box that his new Xbox was in, his whole face lit up with shock and excitement. “Cool!” he exclaimed.

“You like it?” Max asked.

“Yeah!”

“This is your big present this year. That’s why there weren’t so many small ones.”

Dylan ran his hands all over the box, trying to figure out how to open it. “This is awesome!”

“Well, you’re awesome, so you deserve it,” Max told him. He put his arm around him, hugged him to his side, and said, “Happy birthday, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Maria stood back and watched them, thrilled to see them so happy together. Max had been adamant about this gift, even though it was expensive, and he was obviously elated to get this reaction out of Dylan.

“Can we play it?” Dylan asked eagerly.

“Sure, we’ll set it up,” Max said. “We’ll play one of those games Grandma Amy got you. How’s that sound?”

“The football one!” Dylan exclaimed.

“Football one, huh? Alright. Let’s play it.”

Maria grabbed Liz’s arm, pulling her into the kitchen, leaving the boys with their toys. “Okay, was this gift a mistake?” she questioned. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to pull either one of them away from that thing.”

“It’ll be hours of entertainment,” Liz said. “But at least it’s something they can play together. And both enjoy.”

“Yeah.” Unlike basketball, she thought. She wasn’t going to tell Max, but just last night, Dylan had asked her if he could quit the team. It had taken some convincing to get him to agree to stick it out for the rest of their short season.

Maria reached into her pocket when she felt her phone go off, and when she saw that it was Michael calling, she quickly separated herself from Liz. “Just a minute,” she said, backing up towards the hallway. “It’s, um . . . my mom.”

“Fun,” Liz said sarcastically.

Maria headed down the hall and answered the phone as she ducked into her and Max’s bedroom. “Hey,” she said. “I wasn’t scheduled to work today, right?”

“No, you’re in the clear,” he said. “I was just callin’ ‘cause I know it’s Dylan’s birthday, and . . .”

“Oh my god,” she said, “you still remember that?”

“Of course.”

Just the way he said that . . . of course. Like there wasn’t any possible way he would forget. “Yeah, we’re having a little party,” she said. “He just opened up an Xbox.”

“Sweet,” Michael said. “I want one.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty stoked about it.”

Michael sighed and said, “Well, I got a present for him, too, but if you guys are doin’ the family thing . . .”

“Oh. Yeah, well, it’s just—it’s just me and Max and Liz here right now, so . . .”

“So, the family thing,” he concluded. “That’s alright. I’ll be at the school on Monday, so I’ll give it to him then.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Just tell him happy birthday for me, alright?”

“I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” For some reason, when she hung up the phone, she felt a bit . . . sad. Because she remembered Dylan’s third birthday, when Michael had planned a whole party for him. He’d been such a big part of that, and now, three years later, he didn’t get to be a part of it at all.

That’s just the way it has to be, she reminded herself as she left the bedroom. She couldn’t be thinking about Michael today. Her son turned six just this once, so she wanted to enjoy it.

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

Michael felt like an idiot for not being able to get through to Jake. He wasn’t there for every single hour of every single school day, but when he was there, he wasn’t making any progress. Monday afternoon, he had to pull Jake out of every single class except for music. Then, for some reason, when the final bell of the day rang, he started throwing a temper tantrum. Just getting his backpack on his shoulders was a major chore. Then getting him out of the SPED room was another challenge. When he saw his mom out in the parking lot, he stopped screaming and ran towards her.

“Bye, Jake,” Michael said, feeling completely spent. This kid zapped his energy. He was going to need another massage from Sarah tonight. And maybe a little bit more than that.

When he saw Maria’s car pull up in the drop-off/pick-up zone, he perked up a little bit. She got out of the car, smiled, and waved as she approached him. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

“You look . . .”

“Tired, I know.”

“Jake?” she guessed.

“Yep. I just can’t find a way to reach him.”

“Well, you will,” she reassured him as Dylan came out the front doors. “Hey, honey!”

“Mom.” He gave her a look.

“What, can I not call you that anymore, sweetie?” she teased.

“Mom.”

“Dylan.”

Michael chuckled and told Dylan, “Hey, man, I love my mom. She can call me whatever she wants.”

“Yeah, you hear that?” As if to purposefully embarrass him even further, Maria reached out and gently pinched Dylan’s cheeks. He acted like he was annoyed, but he probably wasn’t. In a few years, he would be, but he was still young enough to enjoy it.

“Ready to go?” she asked him.

“Oh, hey, wait, I still have his present,” he told her. “It’s in my car. Can he come with me?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll just go wait at my car.”

“Alright, come on, buddy.” Michael motioned for Dylan to follow him and took off at a light run for his car. Dylan had to run a lot faster to keep up, but he bounded behind him like a golden retriever.

“What is it?” he asked eagerly.

Michael popped open his trunk, reached inside, and felt around for the gift bag. He took it out, and Dylan’s eyes got wider, because the sack was so big. The actual gift itself was smaller, though.

“Alright, hop up here,” Michael said, shutting his trunk.

Dylan set his backpack down and tried to crawl up onto the back of the car, but he couldn’t make it, so Michael lifted him up and set him down. “Happy birthday,” he said, putting the present in his lap. He’d barely hopped up there next to him when Dylan shoved his hands in the bag, sifted through the tissue paper, and took out what was inside.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, taking out a football. And it wasn’t just any football, either. It was loaded up with signature after signature of professional players.

“Do you know what those are? Those are autographs,” Michael told him. “NFL players.”

“NFL?” Dylan echoed in astonishment.

“Yeah.” They were most quarterbacks, but there were a few running backs and receivers on there, too. “Look, Drew Brees. Brett Favre—you’re too young to know who he is. Tom Brady. He’s the best.” He had that hot model wife, after all.

“Cool,” Dylan said.

“So this football’s actually worth a lot of money,” Michael told him. “And it’ll be worth more and more money the longer you have it. But you can’t ever sell it.”

“I won’t,” Dylan promised.

“Do you know where I got that?”

Dylan shook his head.

“From Coach Kyle.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When he got hurt, he didn’t want that football anymore, so he gave it to me. And now I’m givin’ it to you. ‘cause it should be in the hands of a great player.”

Dylan smiled proudly.

“You like it?” Michael asked him.

“Yeah. It’s awesome.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. Parting with that football sucked on a personal level, just because so many great players had signed it. But he was happy to let Dylan have it. Maybe someday his autograph would be on there, too.

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

Maria squinted, trying to get a closer look at Michael and Dylan. Their backs were to her, so she couldn’t exactly see what they were looking at. But it looked . . . like a football. Which would explain why they were both staring at it like it was the holy grail.

When Dylan came scampering back to her, she realized just what an amazing gift it actually was. It definitely wasn’t the kind of football you actually played with. It was the kind you put in a display case or a locked safe or something. There had to be at least twenty different autographs on there.

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “This is incredible.” She didn’t recognize most of the names, only because she wasn’t a huge aficionado of the sport. But there were a few that any average person would know. Brett Favre? Seriously?

Dylan took the football back from her and said, “I gotta take care of it,” hugging it tightly to his chest.

“Yeah, we’ll definitely be taking care of that.” She opened up the backdoor for him and motioned for him to get in. Across the parking lot, she met Michael’s eyes and shook her head in amazement. And gratitude. This was really probably too nice, the kind of present she shouldn’t let Dylan accept. But how could she take it away from him, especially when it was clear that Michael wanted him to have it?

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

“So are you teaching again this semester?”

Alex looked up from the seventh page of Othello, surprised—but also sort of not surprised—to find Isabel in his office. She had a habit of popping up there. And she usually looked lost but beautiful when she did.

“Yeah,” he replied, bookmarking his page. He showed her the cover and said, “Shakespeare.” It hadn’t been his first choice by any means, but it was what they’d needed of him.

“Have you read a lot of Shakespeare?” she asked.

“The major works.” Othello was new to him, though. He was hoping his class would get into it because of its exploration of sexuality and jealousy.

“Have you had a lot of time to prepare?” Isabel inquired.

“Not really.” He’d found out he would be teaching this class right before Christmas break when the other grad student set to do the job had backed out at last minute.

“Well, you’ll figure it out,” she said. “You’re a good teacher.”

“Thanks.” He opened up the book again, hoping that she would get the hint. He needed to keep reading.

She didn’t get the hint. “So . . . now that I’m not your student anymore, do you wanna go grab some lunch?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, trying to figure out what she was up to with him. All last semester, he hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. Was she flirting? Making small talk? Was she honestly just so lonely and desperate for companionship that she wouldn’t give up on trying to weasel her way back into his life?

“They just opened up a Chinese place in the Student Union,” she told him. “Do you wanna go try it?”

“No.” He didn’t. Not with her. As long as her motives were murky, then he couldn’t trust her, couldn’t trust that she wasn’t just going to use him to make herself feel better.

“Alex,” she said softly, looking at him with sad, almost innocent eyes. “I’m just trying to reconnect. Do you know what it’s like to have all the people you care about just stop caring?”

“Yeah. My wife cheated on me, remember?”

“Well, imagine that happening over and over again. My mom, my brother, Tess, you, everyone . . . it’s like no one even cares anymore.”

“Your brother invited you to spend Christmas with him,” he pointed out, struggling to feel sympathetic. “You’re the one who stormed out on that.”

“Yeah, because of Maria.”

“No, because of you.” He didn’t know what had been said between the two of them, and he didn’t care. She’d had an opportunity that day, and she’d blown it. Ultimately, she had no one to blame but herself. “I’m sorry, Isabel,” he said. “It doesn’t matter if I’m not your teacher anymore, or if you’re not my student. We’re still not gonna go get lunch.” He motioned to the door, wanting her to leave. Needing her to leave. Because if she stayed . . . there was always the crazy possibility that he just might change his mind.

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

“So have you even started your paper yet?” Maria asked Michael as the class packed up and started to leave.

“Nope,” he said, stretching out in his seat. “I’m gonna do it tonight.”

She gave him a skeptical look. He hadn’t even started it and it was due in three days?

“It’ll be good,” he vowed. “Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m not worried; I’m excited,” she informed him. “I might finally get a better grade than you.”

“Wanna bet?”

“No. Last time we made a bet, I lost.”

He immediately got this mischievous look on his face. “Was that the standing sixty-nine?”

She blushed. “Yes.”

“That was painful,” he recalled, eventually grinning. “But worth it.”

“Okay, we should not really stroll down this particular part of memory lane,” she cautioned. She and Michael could talk about plenty of things: music, puppies, food. Even Dylan. But not sex. That was too . . . poignant.

“Alright, let’s stroll on outta here then,” he said, standing up.

“I can’t. Billy’s looking over my paper,” she said, motioning to the front of the auditorium, where Billy was sitting behind on a stool behind the lecture podium, marking up her rough draft. “He’s gonna go through it with me.”

“Alright,” Michael said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “See you . . . Thursday then?”

“Yeah. We’ll see if you have your paper done,” she teased.

“Oh, A+. It’s in the bag.” With a cocky but somehow endearing smirk on his face, he said, “See you,” and started out of the room.

“Bye.” It took a lot not to follow him. She would have loved to hang out with him for a little while, even if that meant sitting out on Plaza Verde and freezing her ass off while he and his friends played Frisbee. But studiousness won out.

She picked up her purse and made her way to the front of the room when the last few students cleared out. “So how bad is it?” she asked Billy.

“Oh, it’s not bad at all,” he assured her, brushing his dark hair off his forehead. “I got a few pages left, though, so why don’t you sit and relax?”

“Okay.” She took a seat in the front row, and for the first couple of minutes, she just sat there. But then she started to get bored and impatient, and she found herself watching the clock. This was definitely taking longer than she’d anticipated, but hopefully it would be worth it. Billy wasn’t the professor, but as the TA, he was the next best thing.

About ten minutes into waiting, she took out her iPod, put the earbuds in, and listened to a couple of songs. It was mostly relaxing, mellow music that caused her to close her eyes and almost drift off into sleep. Or at least something close to sleep.

“Maria?”

She snapped her eyes open when she heard her name.

“I’m ready now,” Billy told her.

She shut off her iPod and put it back in her purse. “Thanks for helping me,” she told him in advance as she stood up.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said. “Go ahead and pull up that other stool.”

She took the stool from behind the front table and moved it next to his, taking a seat. She caught a sight of her paper, and her stomach started to do backflips because of how much red ink was on it. “So what do you think?” she asked him.

“It’s a really good start,” he told her. “Sixties, huh?”

“Yeah, it was either gonna be that or the fifties. I couldn’t decide.”

“Yeah? So what swayed you?”

“My favorite song.”

“Which is . . .?”

“Um . . .” It felt a little strange to just tell him when she’d made Michael guess at it for months. “‘Unchained Melody.’”

“That’s a great song,” he agreed. “One of my favorites, too.”

“Yeah, it’s a classic.”

“And I really like the way you referenced it here,” he said, turning to the second page, “without building your whole argument around it.”

“Yeah. I mean, there were a lot of other great songs during that decade, too.”

“‘California Dreamin’.’”

“Oh my god, I love that one. And pretty much anything by The Beatles, obviously.”

“Definitely.” He moved her essay slightly aside and angled his whole body towards her. “So what’s your story, Maria? Are you hopin’ to make a career out of music or is it just a hobby for you?”

“Well . . .” If he’d asked her ten years ago, he would have gotten a completely different answer. “Just a hobby, I guess.”

“Do you sing?”

“Yeah.” Although that mostly just happened in the shower these days. “Well, I can sing, but I don’t really anymore.”

“Why not?”

Because other things are just more important, she thought, surprised that he was taking such an interest. She’d never even talked to him before today. “I think I’d just rather be a music teacher,” she said. That would be plenty fulfilling and still allow her to focus on being a good mom. She wasn’t about to delve into that with him, though, so she attempted to refocus the conversation. “So what are all these red marks on my essay?”

“I’d love to hear you sing sometime,” he blurted.

“Oh.” She couldn’t picture that happening, and it was a bit surprising that he would take such an interest so quickly. “Well . . . I don’t know.”

“I should give you my number.”

“What?” His number?

“I play guitar. We could jam sometime.”

“Oh.” So he wasn’t trying to flirt or anything. It was just about music. “That’s really nice of you,” she said, “but I’m usually pretty busy.”

“Maybe you could find the time,” he suggested, setting his hand down right on her leg. She tensed, not sure what he was doing or what he was hinting at. Maybe he was flirting after all? Thankfully he removed his hand quickly so she didn’t have to tell him to do so.

“So . . . my essay?” she reminded him. They’d barely even talked about it.

“Right.” He handed it over to her and said, “It’s a little rough around the edges, but I made some notes to help you out.”

“What’s rough about it?” she asked.

“Well, the introduction’s a little . . .” He trailed off, smiling at her. “I’m sorry, I—I can’t even focus,” he said. “You’re just . . . so pretty.”

“Oh, no,” she muttered. That pretty much answered the flirting question.

“For months and months now, I’ve been dyin’ to tell you that,” he said, leaning a little closer. “Ever since you first walked in this class, I was just like . . . wow, she’s gorgeous.”

“Oh, god. Um . . .” He was being very forward and direct, which meant she was going to have to be likewise forward and direct when letting him down. “Look, I appreciate the compliment, but it’s not gonna happen, Billy.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you’re my TA for starters,” she pointed out, knowing that relationships between TA’s and students were prohibited. “But more than that, I’m with someone.”

“That guy you’re always sittin’ next to?”

No, she thought, but she didn’t say it.

“He seems like he’s kind of a loser.”

“He’s not a loser,” Maria snapped.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re a match. I mean, you’re in here ‘cause you wanna learn about music, but it seems like he’s just in here ‘cause he wants in your pants.”

She stared at him in disbelief, stunned that he had shifted from nice guy to world-class jerk so quickly. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” she blared. “And what does any of this have to do with my paper anyway?”

“I just . . . wanna see what you can do.” He moved in way too close and tried to kiss her.

“Don’t,” she said, pushing him away.

“Come on.” He tried again.

“Stop it.” She tried to shove him back again, but this time he got his arms around her waist and tried to pull her closer to him. “No!” she yelped, trying to squirm out of his grasp. The fear set in hard and fast when he wouldn’t let go of her. “Stop!”

“Maria . . .”

When one of his hands dove down in between her legs, she screamed, “Stop it!” and slammed her whole body against his, knocking him off balance on his stool. She managed to break herself free of his overpowering hold and ran, barely having enough common sense to swipe up her purse as she fled the room.

She felt relieved when she was out in the hallway with other students, but there was still something so fearful about knowing that he was right back there in that room. So she kept running. She burst through the heavy double doors at the front of the building and raced outside, accidentally dropping her essay. She didn’t go back for it.

By the time she got to the parking lot, she was out of breath, but fear and panic kept her legs moving. She practically collided with her car, heaving for air as she struggled with trembling fingers to punch the key code in. When she got the door open, the threw herself inside and pressed the lock button right away.

Her adrenaline instantly zapped itself, and she fell forward against the steering wheel, crying hysterically. She felt terrified about what had just happened to her, about what it could have potentially become if she hadn’t managed to get him off of her. What if he wouldn’t have stopped touching her? Clearly he hadn’t been taking no for an answer.

She dug her hands through her hair, sitting up straight, taking a few deep breaths to try to calm herself. You’re okay, she told herself. You’re okay. He didn’t hurt you.

But he had scared her, and her heart was still pounding from the experience.

Get it together, she thought, reaching into her purse. She managed to locate her keys, but when she took them out, she noticed just how badly she was shaking.

She gave herself a few more seconds to try to collect herself, and when she was sure she was ready to drive, she put they keys in the ignition and brought the car to life. She drove out of the parking lot fast, hoping that she would feel better once she got home.








TBC . . .

-April

[sarammlover]

OMG....that was awful for Maria! Holy crap! Billy was quite bold doing that at school where anyone could have walked in. Poor Maria.
\Liz and Alan....hmmm....