Truths about Dating & Mating (M/M M/L / Mature) (Complete)

[Fehrbaby]

Round 12






For Max


For Round 12: Favorite Lead Portrayal of Michael Guerin

Winner Round 8



Winner Round 7



http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/734/memcandy6hz.jpg








This one is runner up for:
-Best AU
-Fic That Had You Laughing So Hard You Cried and Peed Your Pants At the Same Time
-Vision of Michael That Made You Want To Dump Your Hubby/Boyfriend



Title: The Truths about Dating and Mating
Author: Christina (fehrbaby@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Category: M/M and M/L is how it will end (with lots of other pairings thrown in to help them get there)
Rating: Mature to adult
Summary: AU - Life-long friends Michael and Maria are the most popular DJ's of their college radio station, famed for their call-in show, "The Truths about Dating and Mating." But who can give these clueless pals advice when things change and they begin entertaining thoughts of dating and mating each other?

Author’s notes: First, I want to thank Val (Vallygirl) Sarah (sezza) for all the help they have given me so far getting this ready. Thanks also go to Erin (LuckyMiss) and Diane (CandySpark) for their contributions. I’d also like to give a shout out to Jen (JenDanseur), my beta, for looking the story over.

Next, I already have parts 1-6 written of this story – 56 pages or so. However, to keep it so I can keep posting on a regular schedule, I will only be posting 1 new part every Sunday. I promise, this one will be finished, because I’m having a lot of fun writing it and have outlined the entire story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.


Part 1

“Where the fuck are my fucking headphones?”

Maria DeLuca sat back in her ultra-cushy chair and chuckled as she watched Michael Guerin, her best friend and radio co-host, spin around frantically in the bathroom-sized booth in search of his missing equipment. Looking over at the producer’s booth, she could see Tess Harding giggling with her hand over her mouth. Maria winked at Tess, and then glanced at the timer on the computer monitor. They were on in forty-five seconds. As much fun as it was to watch him having a break down, she decided she should probably tell him. “Hey, brainiac, they’re behind your ears.”

Michael stopped spinning and brought his hands to his shaggy mop of brown hair. “Oh,” he said, flashing her one of his cocky smiles that brought most women - and some heterosexually challenged men, for that matter - to their knees.

Maria, being one of the only women on campus immune to the fatal Guerin charm, rolled her eyes. “Thirty seconds,” she told him, reaching for her bottle of water. She lifted the sticky strands of blonde hair off her neck and placed the cool bottle against it, sighing with pleasure.

Michael flopped into his chair and fanned himself with an old play list one of the other D.J.’s had left lying around the studio. “Christ, it has to be a hundred degrees in here,” he groaned. “Hey, Tess, any word on when they’re going to get the A.C. running?”

The petit blonde behind the thick, soundproof glass blushed and glanced down as she always did whenever Michael spoke to her directly. “Pierce put in the work order, but maintenance says they can’t be here till the end of the month.”

Michael groaned again. “And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Melt into puddles?”

“Stop your bitching. I think Liz has an extra fan in storage,” Maria told him. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind us borrowing it.”

“Great. So instead of stagnant hot air, we’ll get re-circulated hot air?”

“Whah-whah,” Maria teased.

Michael made a face, and then glanced at the computer screen. “Five seconds. You ready to get down and dirty?”

Maria licked her lips and winked. “Always.”

Clearing her throat, Maria flipped the microphone on and began speaking in her sultriest voice. “Welcome back, Saucers, to another edition of UNM Roswell’s most titillating talk show ‘The Truths about Dating and Mating,’ with your favorite campus sexperts, Maria DeLuca and Michael Guerin.”

Michael leaned into the mike. “That’s right, ladies…and gentlemen, too, I suppose,” he added with less enthusiasm, “It’s time to call in with all your dirty little stories. First time lesbian experiences, rowdy sleepover secrets, naughty camp stories…”

“Michael, you’re drooling.”

“Sorry. Anyways, I…we,” he amended after Maria gave him a stern look, “We wanna hear all about them. Have a question? No problem is too big, or too small for us. Don’t be shy - we aren’t. So give us a call at 555-KROZ.”

“And while Michael mulls those thoughts over, we’re going to go to our first caller of the night. Let’s welcome Lindsay to the show,” she announced, reading the information on the screen that Tess was feeding them from the producer’s booth. “Hello, Lindsay?”

After a short delay, a quiet voice came over her headphones. “Hello.”

“So, Lindsay, any sleepover secrets you wanna share?” Michael asked hopefully.

“Um, sorry, no.”

“Damn,” he sighed dramatically, and Maria chuckled at his crestfallen expression. “So, what’s up?”

“Um, well, I have a question about…uh, masturbation.”

“Ah, one of my favorite topics. And let me tell you, you’ve called one of the world’s leading experts,” Michael admitted unabashedly, and Maria had to cup her mouth to prevent bursting out in laughter. “Go on.”

“Well, I’ve never had sex, but I’ve been masturbating since I was about thirteen--”

“Tell me, Lindsay, you wouldn’t happen to be thinking of girls when you do it, would you?”

“Feel free to ignore him,” Maria said quickly, smiling and shaking her head at Michael.

“Man, Maria, you’re ruining all my fun. Go on, Lindsay.”

“Oh, okay. Well, the thing is,” Lindsay continued, “one of my friends told me that if I keep on masturbating, I’ll never be able to enjoy sex with a partner. I was wondering if she was right?”

Maria decided to ask a couple of questions of her own before she answered the question. “Let me ask you, Lindsay, has this friend of yours had sex before?”

“No, she’s still a virgin.”

“And I take it she never dips down below the panties for a little self-stimulation?”

“Never.”

“Well, that explains a lot.”

“I think you friend is lying,” Michael jumped in. “Everyone masturbates.”

Maria snorted. “Maybe all men do, but I’ve read a couple of studies that say something like twenty percent of women have never tried masturbation.”

“More like those twenty percent just don’t want to admit to it.”

Maria shook her head, and turned her attention back to the caller. “Look, Lindsay, I’m not sure where your friend is getting her information, but she couldn’t be more wrong. There have been thousands of studies on the subject, and all of them have concluded that masturbation actually improves your sexual technique and your level of arousal during partner sex.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Think about it. Masturbation helps us discover our hot spots. It teaches us what feels good, what doesn’t, and what really pushes us over the edge. Knowing these things can pave the way for more enjoyable sex, as long as we’re willing to communicate with our partners what we like.”

At this point, Michael stepped in to give the male perspective. “That’s right, Lindsay. There’s nothing more frustrating for a guy than being unable to pleasure his girl. We want you to tell us what you like, what makes you hot, and what makes you not. If you can’t express what you like, because you don’t even know, your guy will have to fly blind, and that can lead to awkward and disappointing sex, not to mention bruised egos on the guy’s part. The more help you give us, the better chance that the sex be the kind that neither of you forget about for a long time.”

“And if not,” Maria added with a chuckle, “then at least you know the quickest way to finish yourself off once your guy falls asleep.”

Michael’s head whipped to the side. “Ouch, I believe my sex was just insulted!”

Maria laughed. “What can I say, more often than not, the guy just doesn’t have the staying power to finish the job.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Michael shot back. “I have never had any complaints.”

“Of course you haven’t.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying? That I don’t know how to do my job?”

Maria’s eyes crinkled. “I would be the last person to know, wouldn’t I? But the truth is, most men like to fancy themselves gods in the sack, and most women are too kind to tell them the truth. They save that info for their girlfriends.”

“Are you implying that you’ve heard something about me?”

“Hmm…you’re sounding a little insecure,” Maria teased. “But no, I’m just speaking generally.” She would have gone on, but then she remembered they had a caller on the line. “Hey, Lindsay, you still there?”

“Yep. Just listening.”

“So, I hope we were able to answer your question?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“We’re here to serve.” Michael disconnected the line and looked at the computer screen. “Okay, our next caller is Jasmine. Jasmine, you there?”

“Hiya.”

“Hiya, right back,” Michael replied. “So, how you doing tonight?”

“Good. First off I wanted to say I love your guys’ show.”

“And we love hearing that,” Maria said. “So what’s up, Jasmine?”

“Well, me and my boyfriend have been together for about seven months, and I’ve always thought he was a great boyfriend until the other day when I found a file full of sleazy pornographic pictures on his computer. I haven’t said anything about it to him, but it’s really bothering me.”

Maria nodded her head, already seeing where this was going. “Why does it bother you?”

“Why shouldn’t it?” Jasmine asked, sounding a little defensive. “It’s disgusting! And besides, he’s with me, he shouldn’t need to look at porn.”

Maria continued to nod. “What I’m guessing is that the pictures make you feel a little insecure.”

“Maybe a little.”

“And you’ve been asking yourself questions like ‘aren’t I enough?’ or ‘doesn’t he find me sexy?’ right?”

“Yeah, and I hate feeling that way.”

“I hate to break it to you, Jasmine,” Michael said, “but men have been and will be looking at pictures of beautiful women, both clothed and naked, for the rest of their lives. All men do it, and there’s nothing wrong with that. And typically, it has nothing to do with their feeling for their girlfriend - which should put your fears at ease. To put it simply, pornographic pictures are fantasy material. They exist to provide sexual stimulus for arousal - end of story.”

“But why does he need those things?” Jasmine asked, bordering on whining.

Michael made an irritated face at Maria. He hated whining. “Let me ask you, Jasmine, do you ever fantasize?”

“Of course.”

“And do those fantasies ever star someone other than your partner?”

“Yeah...” she admitted hesitantly.

“So this is just a double-standard thing, then?”

“How do you figure?” the girl on the phone asked, sounding a little flustered.

“Well, isn’t that it? What you do and what he does is the exact same thing; you’re both using the image of someone else to arouse you, right? His form of stimulation is just a little more visual, while yours is more mental.”

“I suppose.”

Maria stepped in. “As for you comment about it being disgusting, there’s a saying out there that explains this situation pretty well: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

“I don’t get it,” Jasmine said after a second.

Airhead, Michael mouthed.

Maria grinned. “What you find disgusting, others find stimulating. You have to remember that what arouses one person is not going to do it for another. Some people can use a picture to get the blood flowing, while others read erotica. Think about it, if a mental picture could get everyone off, there wouldn’t be such a large market of adult magazines, porn movies, or even battery-operated toys. We all need different things to get us going, and for your boyfriend it’s the pictures. Unless his desire for looking at porn becomes an addiction or starts getting in the way of your sexual relationship, I say let him have his toys.”

“I guess I get what you’re saying.”

“Now, as to the other issue…” Michael began.

“What issue?” Jasmine sounded confused.

“The fact that you invaded your boyfriend’s privacy.”

“Ah…Michael’s right, Jasmine,” Maria said. “I’m guessing your boyfriend wouldn’t be too happy to find out you were snooping around on his computer?”

“Probably not.”

“That’s the kind of thing that can cause trust issues.” Maria made a tsk-tsk noise. “You didn’t delete the pictures, did you?”

“No, they’re still there.”

“Then you can probably get away with it this time, but I wouldn’t do it again. If he were to catch you, he may think you don’t trust him, and that can open a-whole-other can of worms.

“As a final note,” Maria concluded, “you should keep in mind that no one forces us to stay with someone. He’s with you because he wants to be. These girls are just part of a fantasy - an easy fantasy that isn’t bogged down with real life issues or problems. If he wanted girls like that in real life, he would go after them, but as you said, he’s always been a great boyfriend that has never given you any reason not to trust him. These pictures shouldn’t change that. However, if this is something you don’t think you can let go, I suggest talking to him about it. Don’t be accusatory; just explain your concerns, and I’m sure he’ll do what he can to reassure that it you that he wants.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Michael disconnected the call. “And on that note, we’re going to have to take a short break. When we come back, more listeners’ calls and our letter of the night. So stick around for more ‘Truths About Dating and Mating. ’ It’s ten after eleven, and you’re listening to KROZ.”

As soon as the ON-AIR light went off, Michael sat back in his seat and nodded at Maria. “Well said.”

“Thank you.” Maria bowed as much as she could in her seat, then smiled and lifted her brows. “So, world’s leading expert in masturbation?”

Michael chuckled. “Well, you know…”

“And I always thought you were too busy dropping your pants for all the girls on campus to actually find time to masturbate.”

“Come on, Maria, I don’t date that many girls.”

“You’re right. Dating implies that you actually go out and spend time with the girl before you have sex. You’re more of a straight-to-the-sex kind of guy.”

“Oh, please, like I’m the only one guilty of casual sex here.”

“You know, Mikey-boy,” she began, calling him by the nickname only she could get away with, “there are only four men in the entire world who can answer the question of whether I am a natural blonde or not, and three of them had to spend some quality time with me before I let them find out. Not to mention that almost all of them might have turned into something more if you hadn’t scared them off,” she added, trying to sound bitter, but it came out more amused than anything. She knew he’d just been looking out for her, the same way he’d been looking out for her ever since he stopped a bully from trying to steal her lunch money in the second grade. Sometimes, though, the protective older-brother routine got a little old. Especially when it infringed on her love life.

“I didn’t scare them off,” Michael protested. “I just gave them a little…incentive to act like complete gentlemen.”

Maria gave him a look of disbelief. “Michael…you told Brandon Sellers to keep in mind that you kept shovels, trash bags, and a bag of lime in your trunk.”

Michael blinked innocently. “And?”

“And he was too terrified to even hold my hand during the movie. You call that incentive?”

“Damn right I do. Besides, Brandon Sellers was a loser.”

“You say that about all the guys I date.”

“Well, it’s the truth!”

“Please. What about the girl’s you date…oops, I mean fuck?”

“What about them?”

“Two words: brainless bimbos,” she replied, ticking the words off on her fingers.

Michael nodded his head. “And that’s fine with me. It’s not like I’m after them for their minds.”

“God, how did I ever become friends with such a pig?”

“A pig?” He cried in mock-affront. “You want a pig? I’ll show you a pig.” He pulled her sidesaddle into his lap, thrust his nose in the crook of her neck and began oinking in her ear.

“Michael! Stop!” Maria squealed with laughter as his fingers dug into her waist for major tickles. “Michael! I’m going to pee my pants!”

“All the more incentive for me to keep going,” Michael replied, attacking the sensitive undersides of her knees as she squirmed above him.

“Kinky pervert! Hey! Come on…ah!…stop, please! Look, we’re on in less than a minute.”

“Fine.” Michael released her and Maria panted as she plopped back into her seat, her beautiful face flushed with exhilaration. “Killjoy,” he hissed.

“Big meanie,” she huffed, thrusting out her plump lower lip.

“Wimp.”

“Man-whore.”

They continued to volley insults until they heard their producer’s voice come over the speakers. “Hey, you two. As much as I hate to break up your fun, we still have a show to do.”

Michael hooted when Maria stuck her tongue out at him and glanced at the monitor. Twenty seconds. Swiveling in his chair, he turned his attention to the producer’s booth. “So, Tessy, what’s tonight’s letter about?”

*****

Maria planted a quick kiss on the corner of Michael’s lips later that night as he dropped her off at her apartment. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“Like I’d let you walk home alone at this time of night. You need me to pick you up for class in the morning?”

“Nah, I’ll get a ride with Liz. But I may need a ride to the mechanic after the student government speeches tomorrow. The car is finally supposed to be ready.”

“About damn time.”

“No kidding. About the speeches, you will be there, right?”

Michael groaned. “Man, do I have to?”

She gave him a disapproving stare. “Michael, you promised. Come on, Liz needs our support.” Not that that mattered, since he couldn’t stand Maria’s overachiever roommate, but she didn’t want to go alone, so she decided to pull out the big guns. “Look, if you go, there’s a free lunch in it for you…”

“You’re an evil, evil woman.”

Maria laughed at his predictability. Michael never could turn down a free meal. “Sleep tight.” She jogged towards her home and waved a minute later when she reached the door of her third-floor apartment. On all of the occasions that Michael had to take her home, he had never once left until he was sure she was safe inside.

Turning back to the door, she unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside, hearing the loud roar of Michael’s motorcycle pull away. Inside, she found her roommate sitting at the computer. “Hey, it’s after one. Why are you still up?”

“I’m working,” Liz Parker said, barely looking up from the screen.

“Not on your speech, I hope?”

“No, I looked at that earlier. Right now, I’m working on my sociology report. It’s due tomorrow.”

Maria nodded, then frowned. “Wait. I thought you finished that report last week?”

“I did, but I wanted to give it one last look before I print it. You know, make sure I didn’t miss any errors.”

Maria was tempted to tell Liz that she was sure the paper was perfect, but she decided not to waste her breath. Elizabeth Parker, aside from being a perfectionist, was borderline obsessive-compulsive, and wouldn’t be able to get any rest until she’d checked the paper twice over. Or more like twentieth-over, Maria amended wryly.

“Do I have any messages?” she inquired as she made her way to the refrigerator for a yogurt smoothie.

“Two,” Liz replied, not tearing her eyes away from the computer screen. “I wrote them down on the note pad.”

After getting her drink, Maria walked to the phone and picked up the note pad Liz was referring to. The first was from her mom, who wanted to make sure she remembered dinner with her new boyfriend on Thursday. The second was from the mechanic working on her car, telling her that it was looking like her Jetta wouldn’t be ready for another two days. “Christ,” she muttered. “Hey, did the mechanic mention why he needed to keep the car longer?”

Liz didn’t answer, and Maria looked up to find her staring at the computer with single-minded focus. “Liz? Hey, Liz!”

Her roommate jumped, upsetting the keyboard on the pull-out drawer. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“I wanted to know the reason the mechanic needs my car for another two days,” she repeated patiently.

“Oh, he said he still hasn’t received the part.”

Maria tossed the pad down in frustration. “You know, I’m beginning to think this guy is taking me for a ride.”

Liz’s slender shoulders rose and fell. “If you’re really worried about it, maybe you should ask Michael to go down and investigate. I’m sure he would make sure there isn’t any funny business going on.”

Maria smiled at that thought. Michael would tear the guy a new one if there were. Maybe she’d even get a free oil-change thrown in. Something to think about.

“So, did you listen to the show tonight?” Maria asked, already knowing the answer. Despite her promise that she would check it out, Liz never listened to her show. Part of the reason was because Liz was a prude and the topic of sex made her a bit uneasy, but most of it was because Paul Cavanaugh III, her All-American, picture-perfect boyfriend, didn’t approve of her listening to “that trashy show.” Which was a crock, Maria had always thought, since she’d known Paul just as long as Liz, and knew he was just as filthy-minded as the rest of the jocks he socialized with. More than likely, the thought of Liz listening to the show made him nervous. Hell, he was probably worried that if she listened, Liz would discover that there was more to sex than three quick thrusts.

“I was going to,” the brunette told her, “but I got caught up in studying. Next time, I promise.”

“Sure.” Maria nodded and smiled, not believing a word of it. As much as she loved Liz, she knew her roommate would never do anything to jeopardize her relationship with Paul. Not necessarily because she loved him, but because he was all she knew. It was expected by her family and his that they would get married after college and become the perfect American nuclear family. “Well, have fun with your report. I’m gonna take a shower and hit the hay.”

“Okay, goodnight,” Liz murmured, her attention already focused back on the screen.

“Night.” Maria closed her door and stripped off her clothes, discarding them carelessly on the floor as she walked to her bathroom. She brushed out her hair, then showered quickly. When she came back out, she noticed the stack of mail on her bed, which included a padded envelope from <b>Erotique</b>, the local adult novelty store. Barry, the owner, had bought some ad time when the show started taking off back last October, and occasionally sent both herself and Michael products, with the hopes they would try them out and recommend them on the air. Last month it had been Strawberry Sundae Body Butter, and the month before, a set of gold Ben-wa balls -- one of her personal favorites.

Cinching her satin robe at the waist, Maria sat on the bed and crossed her legs beneath her, then opened the package with a grin on her face, chuckling as she read the label on the package that fell out. “The Eager-Beaver Finger Vibe,” she murmured, tilting her head in bewilderment when she saw the pastel pink slip-on contraption had an easy-use wristband and was wired to a three-foot remote. Now, why on earth would a sheath that slips over your finger need a remote?

With a shrug, she placed the toy in her goodie drawer at the top of her nightstand and settled into bed. It was almost two in the morning, and she had to be up by eight for a nine a.m. class. Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come easily. She usually needed a while to wind down after a show, and tonight, it would seem, was no exception. She supposed she could always try out her new toy, as masturbating was always a sure way to help her fall asleep, but, the truth was, masturbating was becoming less and less satisfying – and she was pretty confident she was starting to get carpal tunnel in her wrist.

What she really needed in her life was a man. She missed the feel of warm skin on warm skin, of hot kisses on her body and large hands spanning her flesh, and she missed the euphoric rush she felt when a man buried himself between her legs. It had been nearly eight months since she had last had someone in her bed. Many men tried, but she was very particular - and cautious. Too many times she had encountered the kind of assholes who simply wanted to nail the campus sex-guru. And on the rare occasions when she met someone who genuinely seemed interested in her, Michael somehow always managed to get in the way.

It wasn’t always his fault, no matter how much she liked to blame him. True, he had run some of her boyfriends off, but some guys were too insecure to accept Maria having a best friend of the male persuasion. Doug Sohn, her last boyfriend, had even given her an ultimatum. When all was said and done, after lots of anger and failed attempts to convince him he had nothing to worry about in Michael, it had been no contest. Boyfriends would come and go, but Michael would always be a permanent fixture in her life.

She smiled softly in the dark room when she felt the bed move and the low vibrations of a cat’s purr filled her ears. “Hey, baby,” she murmured as Pandora, the cat she’d adopted from the local Humane Society as a sick and scrawny kitten, began nudging her open palm with her head. Chuckling at her persistence, Maria reached for the mound of fur and brought her to her chest, scratching behind her ears and under her collar. “Sheesh, you’re getting heavy. I’m going to start calling you ‘Fatdora,’ what do you think of that?”

Pandora meowed and scraped her wrist with her little teeth, causing Maria to giggle. “Okay, okay, ‘Pandora’ it is.” Pandora meowed once again, then stood, stretched, turned two circles, and finally resettled herself on Maria’s chest. Fortunately, the loud vibration of Pandora’s contented purr was enough to lull her into sleep within minutes.

TBC***

Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading.

[Fehrbaby]

Well, here's part two, one day early, as a thank you for all your wonderful feedback.

I'm really glad that everyone is enjoying this.

Have to warn you, this story won't always be full of laughs, but that's because this is one of those stories where the dynamic is great between Michael and Maria in the beginning, but starts to change drastically as their sexual tension builds (This isn't one of those stories where they are already in love with each other - they really are only friends.) This, of course, means you'll have to wait a little while for the M/M action, but I promise to make it worth the wait.

Anyway, onto the story...

Part 2

Maria smirked dryly the following morning as she read the handout Dr. Vanessa Whitaker, her Sociology of Gender professor, had just passed out, outlining the independent project they were to have completed by February 28th.

Objective: Write a case study using yourself as the subject, detailing an instance in which your life has personally been affected by gender inequality, citing the sexual archetypes and gender stereotypes that have influenced this instance.

This is going to be too easy.

All she had to do was look to the show.

Case in point: Michael, as a man, was often considered more desirable and mysterious because he openly expressed his views on relationships and sex, while Maria, as a young woman, was often judged. It was unfortunate, but there were many who automatically assumed that she was a slut because she was comfortable enough to speak about sex on the air. The irony lay in the fact that many of these people who made these assumptions were the same ones who listened in every night, silently admiring her for her ability to put it all out there.

It was quite the double-edged sword, in her opinion, and while it originally bothered her to be judged so inaccurately, it didn’t any longer. After all, why should she give up doing something she loved because of the ignorance and pettiness of others?

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, if there are no further questions, I’ll see you on Friday.”

After sliding her notes and assignment into her book bag, Maria stood and patiently shuffled down the steps of the sizable auditorium. She had just reached the ground floor when Dr. Whitaker called out to her. “Miss. DeLuca, I’d like you to stay behind a few moments.”

Frowning, Maria stepped aside and waited for the rest of classmates to leave the room. When they were gone, Maria approached the lectern where Dr. Whitaker was sliding her notes into her stylish Prada briefcase. She cleared her throat gently. “You wanted to speak to me?”

The sandy-haired woman removed her cream-colored blazer and laid it over her arm. “Yes, I do.”

“Is there some sort of problem?” she asked anxiously, racking her brain from anything she may have done to displease the woman and coming up empty.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Dr. Whitaker assured her with a smile. “Actually, I’ve asked you to stay behind because I have a favor to ask of you.”

A line of confusion settled over her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yes. As you may or may not know, I teach a SOC 101 class on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and next week I am starting the chapters that focus on human sexuality. I was wondering if you and Mr. Guerin would mind doing a panel for the class a week from tomorrow? I can pay you fifty dollars each – that’s the standard amount – and all you’ll have to do is answer the same types of questions you answer on your show.”

“Wow,” Maria blurted, genuinely shocked by the request. “You listen to our show?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve rarely missed a night since Daniel told me about it.”

“Daniel?”

“Daniel Pierce,” she clarified. “The station manager.”

“Oh! Are you and he…” She broke off awkwardly, having momentarily forgotten whom she was speaking to. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

The professor’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “No, it’s okay. Let’s just say we’re not mutually exclusive, but a girl has her needs, as you well know.”

Maria lowered her eyes and grinned, mildly-shocked to hear such an admission coming from the professor.

“But really,” Dr. Whitaker continued, “I think the show is brilliant. It’s smart, it’s sexy, and more importantly, it’s honest. It’s something the students can relate to because the information is coming from people their own age, and you two clearly do your research. Plus, you and Mr. Guerin make a great team.”

“Thank you, I’m flattered…and a little amazed, I must confess. Most of the professors on campus have made it clear they don’t exactly approve of the show.”

Dr. Whitaker tossed her hand dismissively. “Stuffy old prudes, the lot of them. Don’t let their narrow-minded views discourage you.”

Maria shook her head. “I don’t.”

“Good. So what do you say?”

“Well, I’d have to talk to Michael about it--”

“Of course.” The professor pulled a sheet of paper out of her briefcase. “Look, I’ve jotted down all the details for you and put my cell phone number on the page. If you could talk to Mr. Guerin and get back to me by tomorrow night I’d really appreciate it.”

“I will,” Maria promised.

Dr. Whitaker squeezed her arm. “Perfect. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

*****

By the time Maria reached the Central Union, where she and Liz routinely met after morning classes, she was practically skipping. Who would have thought that their show would have impressed a professor so much that she would ask them to appear live in front of one of her classes? And for fifty dollars, no less! She only made a hundred dollars a week doing the show. Hmm, maybe she would finally break down and buy that little lavender number she’d been admiring in the window of Hydra for the last few weeks.

Her spirit soaring even higher at that prospect, she broke into a wide grin and quickened her stride, not wanting to keep Liz waiting.

She caught sight of the slight brunette pacing by the entrance of the dining hall; intently studying a small stack of note cards in her hand.

“You know,” she remarked as she approached, “you’ve gone over that speech so many times in the last few weeks that even I have it memorized by now.”

Glancing up quickly, Liz’s flashed Maria a laconic smile. She slid her index cards into the pocket of her tailored taupe business suit and tugged her sleeves down. “I do, too, actually, but there’s no harm in giving it one more read-through. You can never be too prepared.”

“So you always tell me. Anyway, sorry I’m late.”

“No, you’re right on time.”

“Which means you wanted me to be five minutes early,” Maria teased, knowing her friend all-too-well.

“Maria, it’s fine.”

“I do have a good excuse, though,” she said brightly as they entered the dining hall. “Professor Whitaker asked me to do a panel next week for her Intro To Sociology class next week.”

“That’s nice. What kind of panel?” Liz inquired as they got in line at the Starbucks counter for their usual breakfast of coffee and scones.

“A sex panel. Basically a live-version of the show. And the best part is that she’s going to pay us fifty dollars apiece.”

“Well that’s great, but what does a show about sex have to do with sociology?”

“It’s so cute the way you whisper the word ‘sex’,” Maria joked, chuckling when Liz’s face turned an attractive shade of pink. “And to answer your question – sexuality is an entire subfield of sociology, and our show is about relationships and sex.”

“But I thought sociology had to do with scientific studies of human relations?”

Maria rolled her eyes, mildly irritated by Liz’s condescending tone. “What do you think we do on our show, give out random advice based on our own sexual experiences? I’ll have you know we have invested many hours in researching these scientific studies so that the advice we give is accurate.” Which you would know if you climbed down from your pedestal and gave us a listen, she added silently.

“I’m sorry,” Liz said, astutely picking up on Maria’s exasperation. “I didn’t mean to imply--”

“It’s cool, Liz,” Maria interrupted, shrugging it off with a smile. After all, it was an old argument between them. “So it’s Wednesday; my turn to buy. Want your usual?”

“I think I’ll just have a tall decaf mocha java today.”

“Decaf?” Maria raised an eyebrow as they stepped forward in line. “Since when do you drink decaf?”

“I don’t. It’s just that I’m already jittery enough with the speeches today. The last thing I need is more caffeine.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Maria replied, though she didn’t understand why Liz was even bothering to get coffee at all. To her, drinking coffee sans caffeine was about as pointless as drinking non-alcoholic beer. It wasn’t like she drank either for the taste. “We can stop by the juice bar, if you want?”

“No, thanks, coffee is fine.”

“Okay-dokey.” Giving up, she turned and smiled at the familiar face behind the counter. “Hey, Tasha, how’s it going?”

Tasha Reed, Maria’s next door neighbor back in her freshman days in the dorm, rolled her eyes and grinned, her white teeth a sharp contrast to her flawless cocoa skin. “Same story, different day, girl. You?”

“No complaints here.”

Tasha reached for a venti-sized cup. “The usual, I presume, ladies?”

“Yes on the Caramel Macchiato and the scones, but make the Café au Lait a Tall Decaf Mocha Java. Student government speeches today,” Maria said in way of explanation. “Liz has got a bit of a nervous stomach.”

“Probably a good call, then,” Tasha remarked, winking at Liz as she penned the orders on the cups. “This stuff rots your gut anyways.”

Liz smiled shyly and Maria laughed. “I still don’t get how a girl who despises coffee the way you do ends up working at a Starbucks.”

“What can I say? I hate the taste, but I am addicted to the smell. That’ll be $10.25, ladies.”

Maria swiped her meal-card in the machine and threw a couple of dollars in the tip jar. “Thank you, Tasha. See you on Friday.”

“I’ll be here. Good luck on your speech today, Liz. You’ve got my vote.”

Liz thanked her and they stepped aside to wait for their drinks.

“So what are your plans for this afternoon?” Maria asked as she put her wallet back in her bag.

“After the speeches?”

“Of course.”

“I’m meeting my study group in the library later, but that’s not until six. Why?”

“Well, I promised Michael lunch, and I was going to see if Tess and Alex wanted to come. I’m thinking Luna’s. Wanna join us?”

“Possibly. I’ll have to check with Paul.”

Maria pulled a face. “Check with Paul? What is he, your keeper?”

“No,” Liz rolled her eyes, “but he might have plans for us.”

Maria refrained from her reflexive lecture on being more independent and settled on saying, “Well, tell him you made plans for once and that he’s welcome to come along.” She congratulated herself on not wincing, since having Paul along for the ride was one of the last things she wanted. His know-it-all attitude and unsolicited lectures were bound to put her right off her food.

“We’ll see,” Liz responded noncommittally.

Maria sighed and turned as their drinks were called out. “Okay. Just let me know.” She handed Liz her drink and the small bag containing her blueberry scone and took a sip of her macchiato. “Mmm. So, what do you think, inside or out?”

Liz frowned and glanced at her watch. “The speeches start in forty-five minutes. Why don’t we make our way towards the stage?”

“Outside it is, then.”

They began making their way to the exit, but not before stopping at the condiment table to retrieve some sugar packets and napkins. Maria began to tell Liz that her first job as Vice President should be to recommend the dining halls started carrying recycled napkins when she heard an unmistakable and most unwelcome voice behind her.

“Look who it is, girls: Dr. Fellatio and The Super Mouse.”

Maria exhaled slowly and turned around. “Why, Courtney, it’s been a while,” she exclaimed with false sweetness. “Finally decide to come up for air?”

Courtney Banks, Maria’s ex-roommate from the first two weeks of her freshman year, rolled her eyes icy blue eyes and arched a painted-on brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded edgily.

“Well, you spend so much time with your head buried in some frat boy’s lap...” she trailed off and batted her lashes smugly.

The three sorority girls backing Courtney simultaneously gasped in disbelief, as if scandalized by some commoner’s nerve to speak to their sister that way.

Courtney’s nostrils flared in a way that made her generically attractive face appear really unappealing. “Cute,” she retorted snidely. “But coming from someone who has sucked off the remainder of the unwashed masses on campus, I guess I should take that as a compliment. At least frat boys bathe.”

As far as insults went, it fell pretty flat. Not to mention was totally unfounded, but, hey, it came with the territory.

Seeing her remark didn’t affect Maria one iota, Courtney flicked her glossy blonde hair back and set her sights on a weaker target.

“Wow, Liz, I just love your outfit. That drab politician’s wife look is so you.” She smiled sweetly, while her friends cackled like a pack of hyenas.

Liz’s body tensed at the barb, her chin rising primly, and Maria rushed to bring Courtney’s attention back on herself, knowing that her friend was too timid to defend herself.

“And I just love your outfit…or outfits, I should say,” Maria amended, including the entire group of similarly dressed girls in her assessment. “I see the sisters of Phi Beta Bimbo are cloning the Paris Hilton look this season.”

Courtney’s eyes flashed with incensed hatred, furious that Maria had foiled her attack on Liz.

“What’s wrong with Paris Hilton?” one of the girls demanded, while Courtney said, “She’s got more sense of style than a fashion victim like you will have any day.”

Maria sighed in irritation. She’d never invested too much stock in stereotypes, but the stereotypes of sorority girls could have been based off the sisters of ZPB. It was all about clothes, fashion, and money to these girls. “Fashion victim, I may be, but at least my skirts aren’t so short that I have to powder a second set of cheeks before I leave the house.”

She almost laughed as matching looks of puzzlement that came over the girls’ faces. Instead, she sent one last smug smile at Courtney and laced arms with Liz. “Come on, sweetie. The overwhelming scent of cheap perfume is giving me the vapors.”

“Ugh! What a primo bitch!” one of the girls could be heard saying before they reached the exit.

“Huh, guess it finally connected,” Maria murmured to herself with a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Why do you do that?” Liz asked in a low voice as they walked down the hall.

“Do what?”

“Lower yourself to their level. You should just ignore them.”

“You mean let them walk all over me, like you do? Girl, you really need to learn to stand up for yourself.”

Liz raised her chin defiantly. “Why should I care what those girls say? It’s pathetic, really. I mean, their collective I.Q.’s rival my shoe size.”

A surprised laugh shot from Maria’s mouth. It wasn’t the most original comeback, but Liz’s displays of petty humor were so few and far between that each one was to be congratulated. “Hey, that’s a good one! You should have said that back there when Courtney was putting you down.”

“But what’s the point? They’re just spiteful, spoiled princesses who deal with their own insecurities by putting others down. Why give them the satisfaction of showing them they’re getting a rise out of you?”

“I don’t know,” Maria admitted, recognizing the validity of Liz’s reasoning. “It’s weird, you know? I can easily ignore every other snotty bitch on campus, but when it comes to Courtney…” she growled the name, “Argh! Every time I see her I want to rip her hair out by her badly-dyed roots!”

Liz shook her head. “But why her? I mean, aside from your brief stint as roommates almost three years ago, you hardly know each other. Your lives are so completely isolated from one another, yet, every time you’re within a fifty-foot radius, you both come out with your claws blazing.”

“I’m sorry, was there a question in there?” Maria joked.

“Yes. Why? Why all the animosity?”

Maria exhaled noisily, coming to a stop just a few feet before the Student Activities board. “Courtney blames me for almost jeopardizing her chances of getting into Zeta Phi Beta.”

Liz’s face twisted in confusion. “Huh? How’d you do that?”

“It was a total accident! She blew off some rush activity, telling the sisters she had a cold, when she really had a date. She didn’t tell me this, of course, so when one of the sisters called to check on her, I told her where Courtney was. I mean, how was I supposed to know?”

A sympathetic smile appeared on Liz’s face. “Okay, that explains why she hates you, but why do you hate her?”

“Well, the following day she went to the house and the girls threatened to cut her from the rush list. I guess cutting out on rush for a guy is a big no-no in the Greek universe. So anyway, she came home that afternoon and laid into me, saying I did it on purpose, that I didn’t want her to get in because I was jealous, blah-blah-blah. Hell, I was praying that she’d get in, just so she could move out! Anyway, I told her I was sorry, that it was an honest mistake, but she just wouldn’t listen. She kept screaming and making all these absurd accusations, and then she grabbed the blown glass castle music box Grandma DeLuca gave me when I was six and threw it at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.”

“Oh, no!” Liz cried, her face reflecting horror. “The one she gave your after your dad left?”

Maria nodded, a fresh wave of cold fury washing over her. “She knew how much that music box meant to me - I told her during one of our few civil conversations the first week – and she did it anyway!”

“What a nasty, horrible thing to do! I hope you filed a complaint with the Student Housing Disciplinary Committee.”

“Why bother? All they would have done is force her to pay me back the whole twenty dollars the box cost, and that music box was irreplaceable.” She took a deep breath and counted to three, reining her emotions back under control. “Anyway, I was so upset that I walked out and stayed the weekend with Michael, and two days later, when I came back, she had moved into the sorority house. I heard later that Big Daddy Banks had called and offered to pay for their Homecoming festivities if they would forgive her digression and let her in the house. And thus concludes the riveting tale of the infinite hatred between Courtney Banks and Maria DeLuca.”

“Aw.” Liz pouted and slung her arm over Maria’s shoulder, resting her head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Want me to get Alex to tamper with her records? I’m sure there’s something he could do to get her kicked out of school.”

Maria dropped her head on top of Liz’s and giggled despite herself, knowing Liz would never do any such thing. “Nah, but I appreciate the offer.” She placed a loud smooch on the top of Liz’s shiny head and gave her one last affectionate squeeze before they resumed walking. “Besides, it’s so much more fun watching her mouth do that fish-out-of-water thing every time I get the upper-hand.”

Liz laughed as they walked around the side of the union and into the open field of the campus mall, known by the students as “The Greens.” Maria had always thought it was a silly nickname, really, because one of the misfortunes of living in a town that averaged 8 inches of snow and 12 inches of rainfall a year was that the grass was always more of a sad brown color at the tips.

Wincing as they stepped out of the shade and into the merciless morning sun, she quickly pulled her tortoiseshell sunglasses down from her head and perched them on her nose. “Huh,” she murmured, gesturing to the north side, where a sizable crowd was already forming. “Looks like it’s going to be a pretty big turn out.”

Liz’s eyes briefly widened as she took in the size of the crowd, clearly having not expected so many people to have shown up. Straightening her posture, she cleared her throat and nodded. “That’s good. The more students taking an interest in school politics, the better.” It came out sounding very confident, but Maria wasn’t fooled. She could see Liz’s hand trembling as she brought her cup of coffee to her lips.

“You’re going to do fine, you know,” she said encouragingly.

Liz tore her eyes away from the crowd and met Maria’s gaze. “I know,” she said grimacing in a way Maria thought kind of made her look constipated.

“Still nervous?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she blurted in a rush. She took a few short breaths and rolled her shoulders back. “But I can do this,” she asserted, pepping herself up. “I know my speech by heart and always perform well under pressure. Besides, it’s not like I’ve never done this before. Of course, I can do this.”

“Of course you can. And remember, if you get shaky, just focus on me. I’ll be right down in front. Speaking of which, we better go grab a spot before all the good ones are taken.”

Trapping Liz’s hand in her own, she pulled her forward, and together they wove through the varied groups of students sitting in the grass, finding an empty area a few yards from the stage. Maria pulled out the compact fuzzy blanket she had stashed in the bottom of her bag that morning and shook it out, laying it on the ground so she wouldn’t have to sit on the itchy grass. She sat down and waved at Rosalyn Griffith, who was sitting with her drama crowd friends across the way, then looked up at Liz. “Take a seat. Stay a while. You’ve still got a half hour.”

She placed her belongings on the blanket, but made no move to join her. “Actually, I’m going to go check in with the coordinator. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. I’ll be here,” Maria promised. Sliding her white platform sandals off her feet, she adjusted her red skirt and crossed her legs in front of her. Then she opened the white paper bag containing her scone. “Hello, my lovely,” she purred, pulling it out and taking a big bite. Shivers of delight swelled through her body as the sugar crystals dissolved on her tongue. Perhaps it was a weird reaction to have to what most would consider a rather dry and crumbly piece of bread, but Maria was raised by a mother who never allowed her to put any junk food, or anything else she considered “toxic,” into her body. Now that she was on her own, she relished every piece of sugar-laden “junk” as if it was her first.

“Hey, Maria! Loved the show last night.”

Maria’s eyes flew up to the face of Allie McKenzie, a fellow Sociology major she shared many classes with, and quite possibly the sweetest girl she had ever met. She opened her mouth to reply, but then remembered it was full of food. Covering it with her hand, she chuckled in embarrassment, and stuck her finger up to request a moment so she could swallow. “Mmm, sorry about that. Thanks.”

“No problem, and you’re welcome. Oh, Maria, this is my boyfriend Troy.” Allie’s heart-shaped face brightened as she squeezed the arm of the tall and muscular redhead beside her. “And this is his friend, Billy,” she added, motioning towards the second of her escorts. “Guys, this is the famous Maria DeLuca from that radio show, ‘Truths About Dating and Mating.’”

Maria smiled and shook both their hands, then, off Allie’s questioning glance, gave her an inconspicuous nod of approval.

“Infamous, is more like it,” Billy corrected animatedly, a bit of southern twang to his voice. “Your show kicks ass!”

Maria laughed, probably a little more than the occasion deserved, but he was kind of cute. Granted, his hair had way too much gel in it and he could use a good shave, like most of the guys on campus, but he had nice brown eyes and a cute smile...a smile that looked awfully familiar, now that she thought about it.

She tilted her head, trying to place him. “Where do I know you from?”

Billy smirked in amusement. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.

“I know, Rustic Vinyl!” she shouted a little too loudly after a moment’s more thought. “You work at Rustic Vinyl, the used music store on 7th, right?”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I knew it! I love that place; buy all my music there.”

“That’s right, I think I’ve seen you, too.” He then paused, staring at her for a few seconds longer than she was entirely comfortable with, before saying, “Hey, what have you got on tap for Friday night?”

Maria hesitantly shook her head, her stomach jumping in her throat. “Um, I don’t know. Why?”

Billy pulled a piece of neon pink paper out of the back pocket of his worn Levi’s and handed it to her. “Well, we have this party going on down at the abandoned loft on Clyde Street. Four kegs, good music, and whole lot of people. It’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

She took the paper and studied it. “Oh,” she breathed, feeling stupid. After all, what did she think he was going to do, ask her out two seconds after they met? “Sounds cool.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So you’ll be there?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule, but I can probably make an appearance,” she said sweetly. Great, now she was flirting.

“Right on. I hope you do.”

“Yeah, you should,” Allie encouraged enthusiastically, running her hands through her short crop of auburn curls. “It’s going to be a lot of fun, and we’d love to see you there!”

“I’ll try,” Maria promised.

“Oh, and it’s an open invite,” Allie added. “Bring whomever you wish. The more, the merrier.

“Well, we’ve really got to get going,” Billy said. “We have people waiting for us.”

Maria nodded and waved. “See you in class tomorrow,” she told Allie. “And it was a pleasure to meet you, both,” she added to Troy and Billy.”

“No, the pleasure was all mine,” Billy argued, while Troy nodded and took Allie’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a soft voice.

Maria watched them go, smiling as she saw the springy bounce to Allie’s step. If Maria had to guess, she’s say Troy and Allie had been together no more than three weeks, tops. The happy glow on Allie’s cherubic face had conveyed the kind of happiness one only felt when the relationship was still fresh and exciting. She only hoped it lasted. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Allie.

Taking another bite of her scone, she put the flyer in her bag and checked the time on her phone, wondering where the hell Michael was? His class had ended at least 15 minutes ago! She scanned the perimeter of The Greens, looking for his lazy ass, but he was nowhere to be found.

Shivering as a slight breeze caused goosebumps to pebble her flesh, she straightened her legs out and tilted her head back, soaking the warmth of the sun into her skin. And all the while, she amused herself by plotting all the ways she was going to torture Michael if he pulled a no-show.

continued in post below...

[Fehrbaby]

Part 2 Continued - see previous post for beginning...

Michael swore as he checked the clock on his nightstand. He had accidentally slept through his morning class, and was going to miss the speeches if he didn’t get his butt in gear. Not that he gave two shits about hearing Liz’s speech, but he promised Maria he’d be there, and knew there would be hell to pay if he broke that promise.

Haphazardly pulling on a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans, he grabbed his keys and wallet and stepped into the common living quarters he shared with three other guys. A quick dash in the bathroom, and then in the kitchen for a bagel, and he was on his way.

It was only a five-minute ride to central campus, but at this time of the morning, it would take at least another five minutes to find a parking space in a lot he had a permit for, and additional five just to make it to The Greens. And that was if he ran. It was doable, though. As long as the traffic wasn’t too bad, he should make it there with a few minutes to spare.

Anxiously tapping his fingers on the handlebars when he was forced to stop at a red light on Stellar Parkway, the main street that ran through all of campus, he tried to figure out why the hell Maria was forcing him to come. He wasn’t planning to vote for student elections as it was, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be for Liz Parker. That girl was about as fun as watching a marathon of Jane Austin flicks.

He vaguely recalled Maria’s statement last night about Liz needing their support, and wondered why the hell they – Maria, particularly- should support Liz when none of that support was returned? If Liz didn’t want to listen to their show, that was absolutely fine – to each his own, and all - but it really pissed him off when Liz made disparaging remarks to Maria based on her own ignorant assumptions of what their show was; ignorant assumptions that were no doubt straight from her tight-ass, prick of a boyfriend’s mouth.

Michael revved the motor of his bike as the light turned green and sped forward, taking a sharp turn half a mile down the road and directly into the lot behind the Music Department. He gritted his teeth as she spotted a red Civic backing out at the far end of the aisle and raced forward, sliding smoothly into the spot before the Jeep Cherokee that had been waiting could snag it. He smirked when the driver honked angrily.

Gotta be quicker than that, pal.

Practically vaulting from his second-hand Harley Sportster, he jogged towards The Greens, congratulation himself on making it with ten minutes to spare. He slowed his pace after cresting the small hill at the back of the field, and scanned the crowds for Maria’s blonde head. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find her. Knowing Maria as well as he did – which was better than anybody – he knew she would be sitting front and center.

Meandering through the scattered groups in the audience, he adopted a casual yet cocky gait, detouring around a group of awestruck freshman girls. He flashed them a lofty wink, smirking when he heard the girls erupt into excited giggles. Any other day he would have stopped to chat, but he didn’t have time today.

He did, however, decide to make time to chat with Jason Waitt, the bass guitarist of Mortal Coil, a local metal band that had a great sound.

“Jason, my man, what is up?”

“Guerin,” Jason said in greeting, raising a heavily tattooed arm to clasp his hand. “Just chilling, you know.”

“I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think this was your scene.”

The musician smirked wryly. “I was about to say the same thing about you.” He shrugged. “Promised some chick I’d meet up with her today. You?”

“I’m here under duress. Maria’s roommate is running,” he elaborated, rolling his eyes. “So, when are you guys going to wrap up recording your new C.D.?”

Jason reached into his black messenger bag and pulled out a jewel cases. “Hot off the presses, as of yesterday.” He tossed it up at Michael.

“Sweet.” Michael glanced at the cover before flipping it over to read the song list. “How much you want for it?”

“Please,” Jason scoffed, running his hands through his black as midnight hair and lighting a cigarette. “Take it.”

“Thanks, bro,” Michael replied, clasping his hand again.

“Hey, it’s the least we can do for all that free publicity.”

Michael tipped his head in acknowledgement. Back before he and Maria had joined forces to do the show, he had been the late-night D.J. of a metal show. He’d discovered Mortal Coil playing at a seedy little bar downtown one night last summer, and bought their C.D., impressed with their fresh sound – a rarity in an industry where everyone was trying to sound like someone else. After seeking permission, he proceeded to give the C.D. frequent airplay, insisting that his listeners not only pick up a copy of their own, but also go see all of their gigs. As a result, the band grew a significant local following, and even though he thought it was bullshit - that it was their music that had attracted the fans in droves - they attributed their entire fan base to him.

“Well, I better take off,” he told Jason. “Maria will flay me alive if I’m late.”

Jason saluted Michael and took a drag off his cigarette. “You better get going, then. Get back to me and let me know what you think of the album.”

“Absolutely.” Michael waved and resumed walking, finally spotting Maria several yards ahead, sitting alone and sunning herself, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. Walking around a group of pseudo-hippies, he set on a straight path that would lead him right to her.

“Mmm-mmm-mmm. Would you look at that Maria girl. What a hot piece of ass.”

Michael’s head snapped to the side as the voice carried to his ears. The owner of the voice was a pretty-boy poser, wearing a Kappa Alpha sweatshirt over pressed khakis. With him were some fellow KA’s, and two plasticy, Barbie doll-looking girls, no doubt from their sister sorority. Michael came to a halt and crossed his arms over his chest, deciding to listen in.

“She’s definitely got the hottest set of D.S.L.’s on campus,” one of the guys chimed in.

“D.S.L.’s?” one of the girls asked; a girl Michael realized he had actually hooked up with once. If he remembered right, she was dumber than a doorknob, and was living proof that nature did not abhor a vacuum.

“Dick Sucking Lips,” the brute explained, causing a round of laughs. “Man, what I wouldn’t pay to have her rock my lollipop.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard,” the girl – Natalie was her name, he now recalled - retorted nastily. “From what I’ve heard, she’ll blow anything with pulse. She’s a total slut.”

Michael jaw ticked. Having heard enough, he cleared his throat loudly. In tandem, the entire faction looked his way. He pinned them with the severest glare in his arsenal, taking satisfaction in watching Katrina’s face siphon of color, and the way Mr. D.S.L.’s mouth shut with an almost audible snap.

There was no question that they knew who he was; almost everyone did, and had, even before they started the show. And when most guys looked at him, they automatically saw warning signs. He had a reputation as a bad ass that he had earned in high school, one that had fortunately followed him to college.

What only a select few knew was that the reputation was totally unwarranted.

Aside from being a guy from the wrong side of the proverbial tracks, he had been in a fight his sophomore year that had ended with the other guy in the hospital – the fact that Michael had very little to do with that had all-but-been forgotten. He had been walking down the hall one Friday, when a pack of football players had come running from the locker room, causing him to collide with senior Tommy Ryan. Tommy, who was always pushing people around, had turned on him and started talking shit. In short, it went down like this: Tommy pushed Michael, Michael pushed him back, Tommy punched Michael, and Michael punched him back. It had been a steady punch, but not enough to knock the jock down. Tommy had reacted quickly, ready to lay Michael out on the floor, which Michael admitted he probably would have done, when he had suddenly doubled-over and collapsed. Someone called 911 and he was rushed to the hospital, only to find out that he had collapsed because of a congenital heart defect he didn’t even know he had.

Michael had been suspended for a week, and when he came back to school, the story had been so grossly over-exaggerated and mutated that it no longer resembled the actual event. Rumors abounded that he had beaten Tommy to a bloody pulp, that he had stabbed him with his blade, and Michael’s personal favorite, that he had been the one to rush Tommy, because he had heard that Tommy had smacked his cheerleader girlfriend.

Tommy may have been a big-shot football player, but most considered him a real prick, and while some congratulated Michael for “standing up to that jackass,” most just ended up fearing him.

As for the girls… well, suddenly he was considered some kind of white knight for defending poor Pamela Troy’s honor. The fact that he had never said two words to Pam Troy in his life, and hadn’t even heard the story of Tommy’s and Pam’s huge fight, didn’t seem to register with the masses. Almost overnight, he went from a “trailer-trash loser” to a sexy bad-boy that everyone, including the illustrious Miss Troy herself, wanted a piece of.

He never did anything to perpetuate the rumors, but he hadn’t tried to dispel them, either. Those rumors had given him a reputation that prevented anyone from messing with him; not to mention, gave him more female action than he ever would have gotten on his own.

Satisfied that the frat-pack had been sufficiently cowed, Michael smirked and continued walking. His lip turned the other way as he wondered what would happen the day one of those meaty-fisted, beer-guzzling dicks decided to call his bluff and challenge him to back up his reputation. He thought he’d fare victorious if it were one-on-one, but if they decided to gang up on him, he’d be fucked.

“Why do you have to dress like that?” he grumbled as he, at-long-last, reached Maria. He leaned down to give her a peck on the corner of her mouth, then stood up again, looking at her expectantly.

Maria lowered her sunglasses and looked down at her modest knee-length skirt and white tank top in bewilderment. “Huh? What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

“You’re showing too much skin, and drawing all kinds of attention from the Neanderthals back there.”

She briefly glanced in the direction Michael had indicated, then back at his face. “Too much skin?” she protested. “I’m wearing a yard more of material than half the girls out here!”

“And could benefit from another yard,” he countered. “What’s wrong? You don’t believe in jackets?”

“It’s almost eighty degrees out,” she cried in exasperation.

“And?”

Shaking her head, she pushed her sunglasses back into place. “You’re late.”

He shrugged and sat down on the blanket, tossing the C.D. next to him. “I don’t see any speeches being given yet.”

“No, but you got out of class forty minutes ago.”

“Yep,” he confirmed quickly, knowing that Maria would give him hell if she found out he’d skipped class that morning.

As if reading his thoughts, Maria’s eyebrows rose. “You did go to class this morning, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then where’s your backpack?” she demanded, and off his silence, “Dammit, Michael, do you want to flunk out of school?”

“I overslept, I’m sorry. And they’re not going to flunk me for missing one class.”

“Two,” Maria corrected. “Remember? Three weeks ago you missed a class because you were hung-over?”

Michael exhaled noisily, wondering when she started keeping tabs on him. “Fine, two classes, but the University allows me three absences before they drop me a letter grade. Don’t worry, I’ll get the notes from someone.”

“You better,” she warned. “And don’t you mean some naïve girl who has a crush on you?”

He grinned and relaxed his head on her lap. “Don’t be jealous. I can’t help it if pretty little coeds find me irresistible.”

“Irritating, is what they should find you,” she said mockingly, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, hands off the goods!”

“And what do you mean, jealous?” Maria demanded. “If anything, I pity those poor girls. The way you take advantage of them is despicable.”

He shrugged his strong shoulders in mock resignation. “Hey, far be it from me to turn down a girl who’s offering.”

Maria snorted in amused disgust. “You’re hopeless.”

He winked, knowing Maria could never stay disgusted with him long. “So what’d you do last night?”

“Nothing much: took a shower, opened a package from Barry, and played with Pandora.”

He perked up at the mention of her little fur ball. “And how’s my littlest girlfriend doing?”

“She misses you. You don’t come visit her anymore.”

“Hey, I’m a busy man. What did our local smut peddler give you this month?”

“Oh, you’ll love this. It’s called an Eager-Beaver Finger Vibe.”

Michael shook his head. The names they came up with these days… “Charming. Hmm, I should go check my mail today, see if he sent me anything. That vanilla warming massage oil went over real well with quiet a few of the ladies.”

“Speaking of which, I was going to see if I could get another massage sometime soon – minus the edible oil, of course.”

“Are you sure? I’ve been getting lots of comments of my new tongue-thrust technique.” He chuckled at the grossed-out face Maria made. All jokes aside, though, Michael had taken a few mini-classes on massage techniques at the local community center a few years back, and supplemented his income by giving massages to anyone who wanted one. He wasn’t a certified technician, or anything, but women and men alike agreed that he knew how to loosen a tense or sore muscle. “Of course I can. Just let me know when.”

“Thanks. What about you? What did you do last night…or should I say ‘who’?”

Michael looked up into her amused face with a wry smile. “I went home, studied my notes for my COM 319 test later today, and then went to bed alone, like a good little boy, Mommy.”

Choosing to ignore his sarcasm, Maria nodded her approval. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

“Ahem.”

Michael and Maria’s heads both shot up to find their close friend Alex Whitman standing behind them, holding an open copy of the campus newspaper before him.

“‘Unfortunately,’ says Maria, the yin to Michael’s yang, ‘we live in a society where sex is pushed into our faces, but one is made to feel ashamed if they have thoughts that society deems ‘abnormal’ or ‘perverted.’ I, myself, grew up feeling I was abnormal because I would get aroused by seeing a woman’s naked body on a T.V. screen. I knew I had a pretty strong predilection towards boys, so I was mortified by my body’s response to the sight of nude woman. It wasn’t until I took a class here at UNMR that I discovered what I was feeling was completely normal and common among young women. This is one of the main reasons I jumped at the opportunity to do ‘Truths;’ to provide a safe, anonymous forum where students could not only ask their own questions about sex and their own urges, but listen to the questions of others, and hopefully realize they are not so alone.” Folding the paper, Alex looked down at Maria and shook his head in amazement. “You do realize you have got to be one of the coolest girls in the world for that little admission, don’t you?”

“Why?” Maria asked. “Because I said I used to get turned on by seeing a woman naked? Please, everybody does.”

Michael agreed wholeheartedly, purposely misunderstanding Maria’s statement. “Yep, I get turned on by the sight of a naked woman all the time.”

He flinched as Maria groaned and smacked him on the head. “I was speaking of being aroused, or at least curious, about someone of the same sex.”

“Well, I never have,” Alex said quickly, twisting his face in revulsion.

Typical homophobic reaction.

Michael, who was too secure in his sexuality to deny anything, couldn’t resist fucking with Alex. “I have. In fact, Whitman, I’ve often wondered what that cute little ass would look like bent over my desk.”

Alex suddenly looked like he had sucked on a lemon. “Yeah…allow me to clear up the mystery, then. It’s flat, pasty, and firmly embossed with the words ‘Exit Only,’ thank you.”

“That had to be a painful process,” Maria deadpanned. She motioned to the paper as Alex sat down. “Can I see that?”

Alex handed it over, and Michael scooted in closer to Maria so they could read it together. “I almost forgot this was coming out today,” he murmured.

“Me, too,” Maria agreed, finding the story on page three. “Ugh, that’s a horrible picture!” she exclaimed, wincing. “We were supposed to look serious. Instead we look like we’re ready to tag-team someone.”

Michael studied the black and white photo the staff shutterbug had taken of them standing back-to-back and shrugged. “Looks fine to me.” He skimmed over the article quickly, searching out his own quote. “Oh, that’s great,” he complained. “Your quote took up half the article, while all I got was ‘In short, we’re no-nonsense advisors who are going to tell it like it is.’ What the hell? I talked to that asshole for twenty minutes and that’s all he printed?”

Maria bit her bottom lip. “It’s short, but you were very succinct.”

“Succinct,” he groused. “I come out sounding like a monosyllabic asshole, while you’re come across as smart and fearless. Which you are, of course,” he added, not wanting her to think he disagreed.

No longer interested, he pulled away and lay on his side, propping his head on his hand. He knew he was being a jerk, but it was frustrating that no one took what he did on the show seriously. He was doing all the research right alongside Maria, but because he wasn’t the sociology major, and because he tried to put a humorous spin on everything to keep it interesting, he was often disregarded as little more than the comedic relief.

That “succinct” comment he had made had been followed by an explanation of how they weren’t going to twist the truth to make their audience feel better, because coddling them would contradict the whole purpose of their show, which was to give all the answers that an overprotective, conservative society considered inappropriate for their soft, impressionable minds to know. He had also said that glossing-over the truth wasn’t going to give them the answers to questions that many of them had had since puberty, and had no one to ask.

Now why couldn’t that reported have quoted him as saying that? It would have sounded a whole lot better than that clichéd statement about telling it like it is.

He felt like a jackass when he saw Maria frown and slowly fold the newspaper. She cleared her throat uneasily, and was attempting a subject change when Tess arrived on the scene.

“I made it!” the bubbly blonde cried, plopping down with a loud huff.

“I was wondering where you were, Goldilocks,” Alex exclaimed, listening in as she proceeded to explain her nightmare of a morning.

Tuning her out, Michael reached up and gently tugged a short strand of Maria’s hair, giving her an apologetic smile to assure her that he wasn’t upset with her. The frown on her face slowly transformed into an accepting smile. She nodded slowly and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I know.”

TBC***

Again, thanks for reading.
Here you go, a little mid-week post. It's just the first part of part 4, and about 10 pages, but I thought I'd get this out as a little treat, since people have been asking for two posts a week. Thanks to those of you who have been feedbacking. :hug

Enjoy!

Part 4a

“Mom, I’m home!”

Her mother stepped out of her bedroom, attempting to fasten the clasp of a chunky turquoise necklace around her neck. “Good, I was hoping you’d get here early,” Amy Deluca said – or make that Amy Caufield, as her mother had reverted to her maiden name Maria’s freshman year of college, after a motivational seminar on reestablishing one’s identity after a divorce. She had declared that she had every right to be there when Maria had gently pointed out that she and Mitch, Maria’s father, had settled the divorce over eleven years ago.

Amy’s hazel-brown eyes took in the big duffel bag Maria was dragging behind her, and an amused smile tugged at her lips. “Ah, let me guess,” she cleared her throat dramatically and adopted the tone she assumed that all twenty-somethings used these days, “‘Mom, can I do some laundry while I’m here?’”

Maria laughed. “Why, of course you can, daughter, since I know those evil people at the apartment complex make you pay a whole dollar fifty a load. Those capitalistic pigs! I say we break out the placards and march down there, right now, to begin a full-force protest.”

“Ah, my daughter, the smart ass. How I’ve missed you.”

“I learned from the best,” Maria confirmed, walking forward and giving her mother kiss on the cheek. “You look really nice,” she commented after pulling back. Her mother was wearing an airy cobalt blue skirt with a white, V-Neck sweater that wrapped around her slender waist, revealing just enough of her flat tummy to display the beaded hoop in her belly button, and the chain around her waist that threaded through the hoop. Back in high school, Maria had been absolutely mortified by the way her mother had dressed, since it was so different from all the other mothers; now, she admired her mother’s taste in vintage clothing, and had adopted the style herself. “New outfit?”

“Oh, this old thing?”

Maria smirked knowingly. Her mother was an even worse liar than she was, and that was saying a lot.

“Darn it! Could you get this clasp for me? My hands are all greasy from the perfume oil.”

Maria reached for the necklace and stepped behind her, smoothing her short brown layered hair to the side and working on the clasp. It took a few tries, as her mother’s hands had left it all slippery, but she finally managed on the third try. “Done.”

“Thank you,” Amy said gratefully, adjusting the necklace so it fell down her cleavage just so.

She followed her mother through the dining room, en route to the kitchen. She eyed the table, seeing it was already set up, decorated with Amy’s favorite tribal dish set and a tea-rose centerpiece. She drew up short as she noticed something unexpected. “Hey, who’s the fourth place setting for?”

“Oh, his son has just moved to town and will be joining us, as well.”

“Oh, he has a son. And what is his name, again?” The truth was she had yet to hear it a first time. Her mother had been keeping the identity of her boyfriend strangely secret, refusing even to tell Maria the slightest detail, with the exception of saying “He makes my toes curl.” She had claimed she hadn’t wanted to jinx the relationship, but Maria couldn’t figure out what the big deal was with giving her a name.

Her mother’s eyes widened as she glanced at her watch. “Oh, dear, is it already six forty-five? I need to get my dinner finished.”

Maria lifted an eyebrow in amusement as her mother beat a hasty retreat for the kitchen. What was really going on here? she wondered. Leaning in the door jamb, she crossed her legs at the ankles and studied her mother as she fussed at the center island

“Unconventional” was the term most often used when one described Amy Caufield. The words “scattered” and “strange” tended to be used quite often also. Maria preferred the term “eccentric.”

Amy was truly a study in contrasts. She considered herself an environmentalist, yet she drove a gas-guzzling Dodge pick up and was the proprietor of a small business that sold a myriad of plastic-based alien novelties to tourists. She considered herself a pacifist, yet she had been arrested on no less than six occasions for acts of violence and disturbing the peace. She considered herself a feminist, having lectured Maria her entire life on being independent and not compromising herself for a man, yet every time she got involved with someone new, she took on the personality of a submissive, domesticated woman reminiscent of the 50’s, who wanted to impress her man with her culinary skills.

This wasn’t the first time Maria had attended dinner with one of her mom’s new boyfriends. In fact, she had attended so many of these dinners that she was able to decode the status of the relationship by checking out what her mother put on the menu. Speaking of which…

Tip-toeing herself to the stove, she pulled down the door to find her mother’s four-cheese lasagna warming inside. “Oh, you really like him,” she commented, grinning when her mother shot her a dry look. She then removed the lid off the large kettle boiling on the top burner and peered inside – ah, her grandmother’s original Cioppino recipe. “And it’s getting serious,” she added, sounding impressed.

“Maria,” her mother chided, a touch of exasperated laughter in her voice, “Stop sniffing around my kitchen and give me a hand. They’re going to be here any minute.”

“And what could be behind door number three?” Maria sing-songed, stepping to the fridge to find what was always the most incriminating piece of evidence. Her eyes widened as she found a coconut cream pie (a sign she and her boyfriend had already been intimate) AND tiramisu (a sign that she was working on her seduction routine) sitting on the top shelf. She blinked in rapid succession, completely flummoxed.

Her eyes shot to her mother’s face. Amy was suddenly very preoccupied with chopping the vegetables for the salad. She couldn’t believe it – her mother was trying to pull a fast one on her. “Oh, I get it! The sex is so mind-blowing that you can’t wait for more!” she concluded, confident that must be it.

“Maria Elise DeLuca!”

She giggled and batted her eyelashes innocently. “What?”

“Must you discuss my sex life so…casually?”

Maria snorted. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re the one who always taught me to be open about sex. And it’s not my fault that your cooking always reflects the height of intimacy achieved by you and your new boyfriends – which, in this case, looks pretty damn high.”

“Oh, you think you’re so wise. Would you believe me if I told you that Jim and I haven’t been intimate yet?”

“No,” Maria scoffed. And then… “Aha! Jim!” she cried out, centering on the accidental admission. “Wait, Jim-who? Do I know him?”

“Uhh, I’m not sure,” her mother murmured. “Possibly.”

“Let’s see…” Maria said, tapping the side of her cheek as she tried to think of anyone she knew named Jim. “Well, there’s Jim Collier, provost of the university, but he’s married and in his sixties.” She couldn’t help raising her eyebrows questioningly.

Amy looked non-plussed by the tacit inquiry.

Waving her hands, Maria turned her eyes upward again. “Okay, okay, I didn’t think so. Hmm…” Tap-tap-tap. She searched her mind for any other Jim she knew and finally exhaled in frustration. “Well, I think I’ve hit a dead end.”

An odd look of relief crossed her mother’s attractive face, and Maria wondered at the implications of that. Was it someone she wouldn’t like, or approve of, for that matter?

“Hey, if you’re not going to help, don’t you think you should go start some laundry?”

“Right. Probably a good idea,” Maria replied, walking back to the living room and dragging her bag to the back of the house, where her mother’s utility room was. She started a load of whites and was crossing back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!”

Pulling down her frontier-style top, complete with white eyelets, she opened the door to reveal to find only Sheriff Valenti standing there. “Oh, no, what did she do now?” she asked wearily.

“I’m sorry?” the lean man asked, his bright blue eyes blinking in confusion.

“Look, whatever she did, could you be nice and come back and arrest her, or question her, later? We’re about to sit down for dinner.”

“Ah…um…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and that’s when Maria noticed the bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of tulips in the other.

“Oh,” she gasped, her eyes going the size of saucers.

Sheriff Valenti? <b>Jim</b> Valenti? No way! No freaking way!

She cleared her throat and pasted a fake smile on her face. “Uh, could you just give me…one second?” She closed the door without waiting for an answer, then practically screamed, “Mom!”

Amy came rushing from the kitchen, a look of concern on her face. “What is it, sweetie? Is everything okay?”

“The Sheriff?” she demanded in disbelief. “You’re dating the sheriff?”

Her mother took a deep breath and sighed despairingly. “I was afraid you’d react like this. Oh, no, did you leave him on the doorstep?”

“This is unbelievable!” Maria ranted, ignoring her mother’s question. “What happened to him being a tight-ass hick pig, who had all the compassion and personality of saran wrap?”

“Maria, will you lower your voice, for heaven’s sake.”

Maria rubbed her face with her hands. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she moaned. “How many times has this man thrown you in jail?”

“Things change, Maria. It’s all in the past.” She walked to the door and hissed, “Now, stop sulking like a bratty child and smile. I like Jim very much, so I want you to be polite and respectful, or I’ll ask you to leave. Do I make myself clear?”

“I guess,” she sighed, forcing a smile.

Amy ran a hand through her hair, and then opened the door with great flourish. “Jim!” she said excitedly. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Not a problem,” the sheriff assured her, then lifted the wine and flowers. “Oh, I brought you these.”

“Oh, Jim!” her mother gushed, her voice lowering flirtatiously, “That was so sweet of you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, leaning in to give her a quick kiss.

Amy laughed and gestured forward. “Come in, please. Where’s your boy?”

The sheriff entered and closed the door behind him, his eyes darting to Maria hesitantly. “Oh, he had to work a little later than anticipated. He should be here soon, though. He wanted to run home and clean up before dinner.”

“So he got the job?” Amy asked, clapping her hands together in delight. “I’m so glad.”

The sheriff tipped his head in Maria’s direction. “Hello, Maria.”

“Hello,” she repeated, seeing her mother sending her a look of warning out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I was just a little…” Shocked. Disgusted. Revolted. “surprised,” she finally settled on. Objectively, she supposed she could see the attraction, as he was good-looking for an older man, but she had grown up hearing what a stick-in-the-mud ass the sheriff was, so the idea of them dating just made no sense. Look at the facts – her mother was a hippie and he was a cop. In what reality would that ever work out in?

“It’s quite alright,” he assured her, running a hand through his short blond hair. “We figured this might throw you for a bit of a loop.”

“Here, let me take those,” Maria offered, relieving him of the flowers and wine and carrying them into the kitchen. She found a vase for the tulips, noting the rather beautiful colors. She inhaled their fragrance with a smile, then looked speculatively in the direction of the living room. It was still hard to believe, but maybe she was being too hard on her mother’s choice. She thought about some of the other guys her mom had dated and realized it could be a lot worse. At least this one had a job, had gentlemanly manners, and would never ever slap her around.

Deciding to give it a fair chance, she made her way back to the living room. As she neared, she heard them murmuring softly. She stopped in the doorway of the dining room and poked her head out to observe.

“So, tight-ass hick pig?” He was questioning her. He was standing at her back, his arms clasped loosely around her middle, and they were sort of swaying together to a tune only the two of them could hear in their bubble of infatuation.

Amy laughed. “Well…you always were wound a little tight.”

“I was just doing my job.”

“Perhaps. But you still drove me crazy.”

“Like now?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

Amy’s face flushed with delight. “Well, that’s a different kind of crazy.”

Maria smiled despite herself, having to admit that it was kind of sweet seeing them sharing the moment.

The doorbell rang at that moment, causing them to reluctantly pull away. Amy went to answer the door and Maria chose that moment to make her entrance.

Her mother’s voice rang out as she cheerily welcomed the newcomer, whom she figured to be Sheriff Valenti’s son. He entered moments later, and that’s when Maria received her second surprise of the night.

*****

Maria’s mouth gaped and her stomach settled somewhere in the vicinity of her ankles. Oh, I don’t know how many more of these surprises I can take!

Valenti’s son was none other than Kyle; the hottie mechanic from Toby’s Garage! And wasn’t he looking absolutely gorgeous in a dark blue dress shirt tucked into a pair of jeans with the sleeves rolled up, and his freshly showered hair curling over his forehead. Damn!

This was the first time she’d seen him since yesterday. Like promised, the car had been ready when Liz took her down to pick it up that morning, but she’d been a little disappointed – okay, make that a lot – when Kyle had been nowhere to be seen. Conversely, a small part of her had been relieved. After the complete idiot she had made of herself on her departure yesterday, she hadn’t been sure she could show her face to him again.

Maria stood stock still as she watched Amy lead Kyle into the house, her arm linked with his. Distantly, she heard her mother gushing about how happy she was to finally meet him.

“Likewise,” he replied, smiling politely. Amy squeezed his arm and released him to close the door. Kyle took the opportunity to do a quick scan of her mother’s small, but neat living room. His baby-blues briefly passed over Maria, and then quickly returned. A curious smile of recognition stole over his handsome face.

Amy walked over and tugged at Maria’s arm, nudging her forward. “Kyle, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Maria.”

“No need for that,” he informed her. “We’ve already met.” He turned his attention back to Maria and grinned teasingly. “Good to see you still alive and kicking.”

Maria’s face flushed at the reminder of her complete moment of sheer-klutziness the day before. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well I took your advice to heart, and decided I could probably brave another day.” Though I might really have to do myself in if I make a fool of myself tonight.

His eyes twinkled in amusement. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

Her mother’s eyes were darting back and forth between them, witnessing their exchange in what looked like total bewilderment. Taking pity on her, Maria decided to clue her in. “Kyle is the mechanic who was working on the Jetta.”

“Oh?”

“And your daughter didn’t like the way we arranged the tire displays in the service office, so she decided to rearrange them for us,” Kyle supplied, biting back a chuckle.

Maria laughed nervously, her face growing warmer. “Unfortunately, I’ve never exactly been light on my feet.”

“That’s for sure,” Amy agreed, a fond, semi-evil grin spreading over her face. “The stories I could tell you…”

“Um, can I offer you all a glass of wine,” Maria interjected swiftly, changing the subject before her mother decided to regale them all with the tales of her maladroit childhood.

“Oh, that’d be lovely, sweetheart,” her mother said appreciatively. “Gentlemen?”

Jim tipped his head. “Thank you, Maria.”

“I’m not much a wine drinker,” Kyle informed them. “Do you have anything non-alcoholic?”

“There’s some green tea in the fridge, and I think there are a few cans of Pepsi in the garage,” Amy supplied in answer, since Maria really didn’t know what her mother had on hand.

Maria raised her brows at Kyle.

“Tea is fine,” he decided. She began to turn, when he said, “Wait, I’ll help you out.”

“Oh…okay, thanks.” She motioned for him to follow, trying to quell the sudden hummingbirds flitting about in her stomach. Damn. She’d been hoping to get away for a second so she could calm her nerves before she managed to do anything spastic again. No chance of that now.

“So, how is the car running for you?” he asked as they passed through the dining room.

“Oh, better than it has in a long time.” She looked back at him and flashed a smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded and they entered the kitchen. Maria cleared a space on the counter, overly aware of his eyes on her.

“How weird is it that our parents are dating?” he asked as he waited for instructions.

Maria met his eyes and grinned. “So weird. Especially considering the fact that our parents have a rather complicated history as rivals.”

He looked surprised. “Really? How so?”

“Well,” Maria reached up into the counter and carefully pulled out there wine glasses and a tumbler for his tea, “my mother has spent a good portion of her life crusading against ‘The Man,’ and tends to get a little carried away sometimes, and your father has spent a good portion of his life putting her behind bars.”

“No kidding?” Kyle wrapped his fingers around the neck of the wine bottle and held it up. “Bottle opener?”

Maria rummaged through the miscellaneous utensil drawer. She found one in the back and handed it over, looking away as their hands briefly came in contact. She cleared her throat. “No kidding. I about had a heart attack when I found out your father was my mom’s boyfriend. I mean, it seems so unlikely. I thought they hated each other.”

Kyle laughed as he began rotating the bottle opener into the cork. “Who knows? Maybe it was some long-term, extreme form of foreplay?”

Maria’s hand paused on the door of the refrigerator as she considered that. “You think?”

He shrugged. “A few days back, my dad did mention that he’s been interested for a long time.”

“Really? How long?”

“I can’t be sure, but your parents were still married at the time. I do know that.”

“Wow,” she murmured, impressed. She wondered if maybe Kyle was right? That all her mom’s ranting and raving over the sheriff hadn’t been a cover for underlying feelings. And if so, how long had those feelings been present? She decided to file those thoughts away for the next time she and her mother had a chance to chat.

A silence settled over the room as she poured Kyle’s tea and returned the jug to the fridge. Feeling awkward as she watched Kyle fill the wine glasses, she scrambled for something to say. “So, my mom said you just moved into town?”

“This past weekend,” he confirmed, filling the last glass.

“And what do you think of our lovely town?”

“Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot to do,” his eyes rose to hers slowly, and there was something flirtatious about the grin he gave her, “but, I have to say, I’ve been liking the scenery.”

Having a pretty strong feeling that she was the scenery he was referring to, she bit her lip and turned away to hide her blushing cheeks. Anxiously, she turned around and reached for a dish towel, wiping down the spotless counter. “So, where did you live before?”

“Everywhere.”

“Such as?”

“After mom and dad got divorced, she married Rafe Thompson, an Army man,” he informed her, his voice dropping into a mocking macho-man tone. He shrugged. “We moved around a lot. For the last six years, we were in L.A. Before that, it was Germany, Texas, Florida, Japan, and Arizona.”

Maria met his eyes again. “Wow, so I’m speaking to a world traveler, then.”

“I guess.” He shrugged and leaned against the counter.

“So why in the world would you want to come to Roswell?”

“Wanted to spend some time getting to know my dad.”

She nodded and folded the dish towel.

“So, I was kind of disappointed I missed you this morning,” Kyle confessed in a quiet voice as he re-corked the bottle.

“Yeah?” she asked, her stomach tangling and heart rate speeding up. Cool, calm, and casual, she commanded herself. “Why’s that?” Perfect, she congratulated herself.

“Well, since I am new in town, I was thinking maybe you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour of the town?”

Maria stomach dropped with disappointment.

“And,” he continued, his eyes lowering to the counter, a small smile pulling at his lips, “if that tour happens to bring us to your favorite restaurant and, later, to a local movie theater or something, that would be cool, too.” He glanced up to see if that was okay.

Maria couldn’t help herself from grinning like a fool. “Oh, yeah,” she said coyly, “I think that can be arranged.”

He looked relieved. “Cool.”

She was about to ask him when he wanted to get together when Amy suddenly breezed into the kitchen. “How are things going in here?”

“Just fine,” Maria replied, tearing her eyes away from Kyle and smiling.

Kyle lifted one of the glasses. “Here’s your wine, Ms. Caufield.”

“Oh, no, call me Amy. Ms. Caufield is so formal.” She shuddered in distaste. “Why don’t you put those on the dining room table and have a seat.”

“Do you need any help?” Maria made the token offer, although she knew her mother liked to make a big presentation of bringing out the meal.

“Thanks for the offer, sweetie, but I can handle it. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll be out shortly.”

-----

Michael’s mouth gaped in awe as Maria entered the studio that night with ten minutes to spare. “Is that what I think it is?”

Maria grinned as she glanced down at the foil-covered paper plate in her hands. “Yep.”

“For me?”

“Yep.”

“You are a goddess of the highest order,” he told her, giving her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, and relieving her of the plate. His eyes rolled in ecstasy as he inhaled. “Oh, man…I think I just came.”

Laughing, Maria flopped down in her chair and reached for her headphones. “I’ll be sure to tell my mother.”

He smirked. “Yeah, I bet she’d love to hear that.” Picking up the plastic fork Maria had put on the plate, Michael dug in with gusto. “So,” he said around a large piece of lasagna, “How was diner with the new boyfriend?”

“Oh!” She bounced excitedly in her chair, knowing that only Michael could truly appreciate her disbelief. Not having the most stellar home life growing up, he had practically grown up in the DeLuca household. “My mom is dating…” she paused for emphasis, “Sheriff Valenti. ”

Michael swallowed abruptly and began coughing. Maria slapped his back and grabbed him the bottle of water she’d picked up in the vending machine outside. “Thanks,” he murmured after a long drink. Eyes expanding, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re bullshitting me, right?”

“Nope.” She waved as Tess entered the producer’s booth.

“How the hell did that happen?”

Maria shrugged and kicked her legs up on the consul. “I don’t know; I didn’t get the chance to ask. All I know is that they’re crazy about each other.”

Michael shook his head and shoveled in another bite. “That relationship has a shelf-life of two weeks, tops. Mark my words.”

“I don’t know,” Maria murmured. “Things seemed to be pretty serious already. It was actually kind of sweet.”

“If you say so.” Michael looked far from convinced. “Anything else exciting happen?”

“Well…” Maria trailed off, unable to prevent the smile splitting her face. She began chewing on her pinky-nail as she recalled her discussion with Kyle in the kitchen earlier that night, and later, their goodbye. They hadn’t gotten another opportunity to talk really talk in private the remainder of the night; not until it was time for them to leave.

Dinner conversation had centered around the convoluted history of Amy and Jim, where they analyzed and mock-debated the validity of all of Amy’s arrests. She had excused herself many times to go check on her laundry and start new loads, every time secretly hoping Kyle would follow her so they could exchange numbers. It wasn’t until she was putting the last load in the bag – it was already ten-thirty and she needed to be going if she was going to get to work on time – that he came up and asked her for her number so she could give him the ‘tour’ of the city.

A warm flush flooded her face and she giggled.

That was enough to divert Michael’s attention away from his food. He looked at her sideways, waiting to be let in on the joke. “What are you laughing about?” he demanded when she didn’t reply.

“Well,” she said again, “you remember that guy from Toby’s yesterday? Kyle?”

Maria wasn’t surprised when his smile transformed into a scowl. After yesterday’s reaction to her showing interest in Kyle, he was bound to go into his overprotective routine. As always. “Yeah, what about him?”

“Well, he was there tonight. It turns out he’s Valenti’s son.”

“I didn’t know Valenti have a son.”

“Yep, for twenty-two years now. He grew up with his mom and step-dad, all over, but most recently in L.A., and just moved out here to spend some time with his dad.”

Michael tossed his plate on the consul and turned to the computer screen. “L.A., huh? Well, that explains all the sleazy phoniness. No wonder he makes such a good mechanic.”

Maria rolled her eyes in exasperation. “What does his ability to work on a car have to do with sleaziness?”

“No, I’m talking his ability to dupe women. I told you yesterday that mechanics depend on their ability to take advantage of women, and he rolled in with his fake, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ and ‘oh, it’s not my fault,’ and you bought it - hook, line, and sinker.”

“Oh, he wasn’t being fake,” she said quickly, tossing that suggestion away. “I talked to him quite a bit tonight and he really is a nice guy.”

“If you say so.” He snorted, starting to turn around, but changing his mind at the last minute. “You know, your naiveté astounds me.”

“Well, he asked me out tonight,” she told him, despite the fact that it hadn’t exactly happened that way, “so that proves he wasn’t just charming me.”

A deep crease formed over his brow. “So, you’re actually interested in him?”

“Yeah, I think I am,” she murmured, smiling again.

Michael shook his head and grabbed his headphones. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. “You do realize that if things are truly as serious between your parents as you say, then they might end up getting married and you would be related. That’s like incest.”

“Michael, it’s not incest if there’s no blood-relation.”

He snorted. “Says you.”

“Says everyone.”

“Oh, yeah?” Michael’s eyes narrowed with determination as he flipped on the mike, three minutes ahead of schedule, and mid-song on the pre-recorded music reel. “Good evening, my curious little listeners. I know we’re a tad early tonight, but my lovely co-host and I were just having a rather fascinating dialogue, and have reached a stalemate, of sorts.”

Maria slapped him on the arm and covered the mike with both hands. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed in alarm.

He smacked her hands away and delivered her an insolent smirk. “But what is this dialogue, you ask?” he continued mysteriously. “Well, allow me to share the story a ‘friend’ has very recently relayed to us. Our friend – we’ll call her…Marie - has just found out the object of her sweaty, thigh-clenching lust is none other than the son of her mother’s boyfriend.”

Maria’s eyes bugged out as she listened. Christ, Marie? Could he be more plainly obvious? Oh, god, what if Kyle had decided to listen in? He had seemed really interested in the show when it was brought up at dinner that night. What if he decided to give it a listen? She fervently prayed with everything in her that he didn’t know the frequency of the campus station.

Michael didn’t even bother to look at her as he went on. “‘Marie’ reports that her mother’s relationship is looking pretty serious, and if this trend continues, even has the possibility of ending in marriage. So, her question is, is it okay to go after the boyfriend’s son, in spite of the fact that their parent’s are together? Or, in fact, would this still be considered by society as an instance of incest? Maria and I can’t seem to see eye-to-eye on this, and that is where you come in. Give us a ring at 555-KROZ and let us know what you think. We’ll be waiting.”

He flipped off the mike and sat back in his seat.

“You colossal jackass!” Maria screeched, pummeling his chest with her fists. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He caught her by the wrists and locked his eyes on her. “Just testing your theory. You claim that everyone will believe it’s not incest if there’s no blood relation, so let’s see.”

Maria lifted her brows in challenge and sat back. “Fine by me,” she snarled. “You’re the one who’s going to feel like an ass when they agree that I’m right.”

“Want to make a wager on that?”

Maria didn’t flinch. “Name your terms.”

“We’ll take five calls. Majority rules – that’s three out of five. If I win, you do my laundry for the next month.”

“And if I win…” she trailed off, considering what she wanted. She smirked as inspiration hit. “And if I win, you have to wait on the girls and me, hand and foot, next time we do a chick-flick DVD marathon. We’re doing the five hour presentation of Pride & Prejudice in two weeks, and plan to do pedicures.”

Michael looked a little green at that prospect, but, never being one to back out on a challenge, he offered his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

She shook his hand and yanked him in close, so that there noses were practically touching. “I sure hope you have a steady hand with a nail polish brush, Mikey-boy.”

TBC in 4b***

As always, feedback is appreciated!
:kiss

[Fehrbaby]

Thanks for all the feedback. Hope you enjoy this part!

Part 3

“Hey, what’s this?” Alex asked, causing Maria to pull her gaze away from Michael.

In his hand was the C.D. case Michael had brought with him in lieu of his textbooks that morning. Stealing a peek, Maria saw the familiar emblem of Mortal Coil in the corner. She rolled her eyes and tuned out their voices as they launched into one of their never-ending debates about what constituted good music.

“So, how’s our girl feeling?” Tess inquired, nodding her head toward the stage.

Maria shrugged. “She’s good. A little nervous, but she will do fine.”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Tess agreed, twirling a curl around her finger. Maria grinned at the deceptive gesture, recalling how she had (wrongly) assumed that the slight blonde was a major ditz when she first came to their high school Maria’s senior year.

Tess’s arrival at West Roswell high had been talked about for days. Not only did she wear the latest designer fashions, but she had an innate beauty that had all the boys drooling and the girls green with envy. She had the kind of long, naturally curly hair that most girls spent hours with a curling iron trying to emulate, and eyes a shade of blue that most could only accomplish with contacts. It had been no surprise when she had been instantly accepted into the campus A-list. Her place in the clique hadn’t lasted long, though, seeing as how she had shrewdly concluded it was a defensive move on their part, wanting to make sure she wasn’t going to go after their boyfriends, or take their place at the top of the school totem pole – a classic case of keeping your enemies close.

Desiring more genuine friendships than that, she had pulled away and befriended Maria one day in their Algebra II class. It had all started with Tess complimenting Maria on a vintage peasant top she had been wearing. Maria had been suspicious of her motives at first, seeing as how she knew that Tess ran with the A-list, and they were always making fun of the way she dressed, but Tess had assured her she was very serious. It didn’t take long for Maria to realize that her assumption that she was an airheaded bitch was completely off the mark. Yes, she was very bubbly, and loved fashion and shopping, and subscribed to about a million women’s magazines, but she also read the newspaper every day, had very strong political views, and knew, without a doubt, that she wanted a career in broadcast journalism.

“Oh!” Tess cried excitedly, causing Maria to flinch. “Hey, did you come up with a theme for tonight’s show, yet?”

On Wednesdays, she and Michael changed the tone of the show by doing a theme night. They would pick a theme, such as “Bad Vibrations,” and would invite all their listeners to call in to share their vibrator horror stories or most embarrassing moments. It kept things from getting stale, and was a clever, and extremely amusing, way for the callers to educate other audience members – sort of a What-Not-To-Do style of their show.

Last week it had been “The Quest for the Worst Pick-Up line,” and the week before, “Welcome to the Freak Show.” That latter had even been an eye-raising experience for Maria, especially when she heard there was an impressionistic artist on campus who collected bodily fluids from each of his sexual encounters, and mixed them with his paints. He then gave each of the girls a painting with their mixed fluids to remember him by. While she had commented that it was indeed a creative way to follow up a night of intimacy, she knew she sure wouldn’t want a painting like that hanging in her bedroom.

Maria shrugged. “Not yet, why?”

Tess climbed onto her knees, practically bouncing with excitement. “I received an e-mail from a listener who sent me a link to this great site on bondage. It had everything anyone would ever want to know about BDSM. Anyway, I was thinking you could do a bondage theme tonight, and call it, “Don’t Forget the Safe-Word!”

Maria liked the title, but bondage was a very broad topic, varying from the tamer use of blindfolds to the more exotic fetishes, like water sports and scat-play; two topics that not even she was completely comfortable talking about. How could they narrow that down to a manageable topic they could handle in a two-hour show? She looked to Tess for help. “What are we talking about here? Bondage mishaps, safety issues, Q&A, a basic introduction, or all of the types of activities that are considered bondage?”

Tess sat back, looking a little deflated. “Well, I didn’t think about that. But how about you start with a basic introduction to bondage, giving some of the terminology, and then ask callers to call in with their bondage stories – humorous or otherwise.”

Maria nodded, slowly at first, then more forcefully as she saw more possibility in the topic. “We can do that,” she told Tess. “Let me see what he thinks.” She tugged Michael’s arm and he broke off mid-debate to see what she wanted. “What do you think of bondage as a theme for tonight, with a title of “Don’t Forget the Safe-Word!” She repeated Tess’s suggestion for how the show would progress and then asked him what he thought.

“Sounds cool to me,” Michael said. “Great title.”

Maria shook her head. “All the credit goes to Tess.”

Tess’s pale face turned a bright color of pink when Michael looked at her and winked. His gaze then strayed over her shoulder and he whistled lowly. “Speaking of bondage, here comes someone who could definitely benefit from a little BDSM.”

Maria followed his eye-line to see Liz finally returning from speaking with the coordinator. Part of her was tempted to say, “Her entire relationship with Paul is an exercise in BDSM, minus the kinky fun.” Instead, she smacked Michael upside the head and smiled at Liz as she approached. Her smile faltered when she saw the look of distress on her friend’s face.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

Liz sighed and sat down. “I just found out that Stacey Leich dropped out of the race.” Stacey Leich was a fairly popular girl on campus, who not only was elected Winter Queen two months before, but had been one of the two competitors Liz was running against today.

Maria’s brows dipped in confusion. As far as she knew, Stacey had been her only real competition in the race. “Uh, isn’t that a good thing? I mean, wasn’t she the one you were worried about?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, placing an arm over Liz’s shoulder. “Now it’s just you and Joey Preston, and no offence to the little freshman, but he doesn’t have a chance in hell against you. So perk up, madam Vice President!”

“That’s the problem,” Liz lamented. “It’s not a fair competition anymore. If I had won with Stacey in the competition, I would have known that it was because they truly thought I was the best for the job. Instead, I’ll be elected because I’m the only appealing option.”

“Not really seeing the problem here,” Michael sighed, looking annoyed. “You want the job, right?”

Liz hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

“Then stop your bitching. Stop making it so complicated, and just be happy that you’re going to get it.”

Liz sighed, not looking happy with his advice, but getting his point. “Okay,” she murmured. “Look, I better get back up there. I just came to get my stuff.” She reached for her bag and coffee and stood.

“What about your scone?” Maria asked, picking up her paper bag.

“One of you can have it. I don’t think I could eat if I tried right now.”

“Okay. Good luck!” Alex, Tess, and a reluctant Michael all echoed Maria. “Here,” she said to Michael.

Michael sat up as Maria tossed the scone in his direction. He pulled out the scone and had it half way to his mouth when he paused and turned to Maria. “I still expect lunch, you know.”

Alex sat up enthusiastically. “Did you say lunch?”

------

Liz Parker had only been on a boat once in her life. It had been a 50-foot yacht owned by her Aunt Bethany’s second husband, Travis Barrister, who boasted winning several regatta competitions since he was a teen. She had come down with seasickness ten minutes into the two-hour sail and spent the entire time with her head buried between her knees, letting all the beautiful ocean scenery pass her by. When she got back on dry land, her stomach had almost immediately returned to normal, but her legs had rocked underneath her for the following half-hour. “Sea-legs,” Travis had told her they were called.

As she walked towards the stage, it occurred to her that she was feeling that same unsteady rocking sensation beneath her feet. And she didn’t like it now, any more than she had then.

She hadn’t been entirely truthful when she’d told Maria why she was disappointed that Stacey Leich had dropped out of the race. She did believe in healthy competition, and all, but the absolute truth, the one she’d been trying to deny for days, was that there was a very small part of her that almost wanted to lose the election.

For someone who usually thrived on her studies, and meetings, and volunteering, and tutoring, it was an unsettling admission.

She told herself that she was just feeling overwhelmed, that it would soon pass. After all, she reminded herself, she was in her second semester of the Biology program, which required longer hours spent studying, and more time in the lab. Plus, as the current Student Body Treasure, part of her duties included being the official liaison between the Student Body President and all campus-funded organizations. Add that to her interning on weekends at MetaChem laboratories, and tutoring two freshman football players in Math and English on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and it was completely understandable why the idea of lessening her load might appeal.

She had decided her freshman year that she wanted to make the best of her college experience, and this was how she had to do it. However, as she looked down at her friends, rolling with laughter at something Alex was saying, she began to wonder if by burying her head in all of her activities, she wasn’t letting another very important college experience pass her by.

Some sacrifices are necessary; she reminded herself, pulling herself together and remembering why she had spent the last few years working so hard. All of those extra-curricular would look great on her grad school application to Northwestern, where she and Paul planned to go after graduating from UNMR. It was all part of their ten-year plan. After finishing their undergraduate studies, she would work on her masters in microbiology and he would attend law school. They would put a down payment on a house with money that Paul had invested, fixing it up, and then selling it when they graduated, and using the money they made to pay off their student loans. After that, they would move back to Roswell, so Paul could work in his father’s law firm. They would marry within the year, and have two children within the following three years. Liz would stay home with the children during their developmental years, and later, would apply for a full time research position.

It was a strong, secure plan, Liz told herself, and with the exception of a few minor details it was pretty darn close to the picture-perfect future she had always envisioned for herself. Part of being in a relationship was to be willing to make compromises, so she had been willing to trade her first choice school for Northwestern, and Paul had made a good point about having children before their thirties, even if she would have preferred to establish her career first. When all was said and done, though, she was confident that they would have a very fulfilling life together.

She just had to keep reminding herself that it took hard work to achieve your goals, and if that meant spending less and less time with her friends to do so, then so be it. Paul was counting on her. He was doing his part to make their plan a reality. It would be selfish to start shirking her responsibilities, all because she was feeling a little left out.

Stabilized by that thought, she sat up straighter in her chair and listened in as the coordinator settled everyone down and the speeches began. She clapped politely for the candidates for Treasurer and Secretary finished their speeches, and listened intently as Joey Preston presented his. In her opinion, her speech was far superior, but it was up to the students to decide who made a better presentation.

She stood and made her way to the podium as her name was announced, bolstered by the supportive cheers she received from her crowd, near the front, and Paul and his friends off to the side. She smiled at Paul when he gave her an encouraging nod, and then placed her note cards on the podium.

Reminding herself to speak loudly and clearly, she began her speech.

“Ladies and Gentleman, today you have been charged with an important task. That task is to chose, from the students sitting on this stage, whom you feel will best support your rights and interests, while upholding UNMR’s great tradition of ensuring that all students’ concerns are fairly and accurately represented.

“Not only do I feel I best possess all of the qualities one looks for when choosing a candidate, but I have spent the last few years dedicating my time to the enrichment of student life on campus. As prior chair of the Legislative and Academic Affairs committees, member of the Student Senate, and your current Student Body Treasurer, I have become well versed in the UNMR constitution and By-laws. I have taken an active roll in the student community and feel I have a firm grasp on what students want to receive out of their college experience.

“As your Vice President, I will do my duty of maintaining all the internal workings of your Student Government Association and the work we do throughout the year. My position will serve as a resource tool for students to come to if they need help or have an issue that one of the committees can address. I will also be the chairperson of the Constitution and By-Laws Committee, where we make changes throughout the year in an effort to make Student Government Association run in a more efficient manner. In addition to this, I will be sitting as the Chair of your Student Senate, and hand-selecting what I feel are the most desirable and ideal of the candidates we will be asking the twelve colleges on campus to recommend, to sit as your final Student Senate. I--”

“Excuse me, but what do you consider ideal?” A male voice called out, causing her to look up sharply mid-speech.

Every muscle in her body clenched as her eyes locked onto the slender, long-legged form of a boy standing near the stage. Max Evans, she mentally growled.

“I’m sorry, young man,” Dr. Feldman, the coordinator for today’s event, began, “but we ask that you hold all questions until the Q&A session following the speeches.”

“I apologize, I’m not trying to be rude, but I have a class to attend in ten minutes and I am finding Miss Parker’s speech a little vague. I am sure I’m not the only one who would like Miss Parker to expand on what she considers an ideal member for the Student Senate.”

A smattering of applause backed up his statement, and Dr. Feldman gave her a hesitant look.

Not trying to be rude, she scoffed, knowing full well that his motives for interrupting were more sinister in nature.

She had known Max Evans back when they both attended West Roswell High, and had even partnered with him in Biology class her junior year. Smart, polite, and painfully shy, Max had been adorably oblivious to how cute he was. Everyone, including herself, she had to admit, had been attracted to his dramatic dark eyes and strong-and-silent-type persona.

After graduation, Max had left New Mexico to attend school at NYU. She had heard through the grapevine that he was doing exceptionally well at school and loved living in New York. Which is why it had come as a shock to all when he had transferred back to Roswell at the beginning of last semester, bringing a whole different personality with him.

No longer shy, nor very polite – to her, at least – Max was the kind of guy who didn’t settle in with any one crowd on campus. Rather, he floated from crowd to crowd, fitting in as easily with the preps as he did the punk rockers. He still didn’t speak a whole lot, but when he did, everyone paid attention. If Max was speaking, they figured it had to be to say something profound. Everyone thought he was so damn cool and insightful.

Everyone but Liz.

In her opinion, he was the biggest jerk on campus - which had a lot to do with the fact that he seemed to have it out for her. She didn’t have the faintest clue why, seeing as how they had only spoken on a few occasions since his return, and usually in settings where they were in a large group. In those three or four instances, though, he had seemed perfectly content to merely listen in on the conversation floating around, but as soon as she had opened her mouth, he went on the attack, challenging her opinions and doing his best to make her feel like a narrow-minded idiot.

She had sat back passively then, and listened to him spout his oh-so-worldly opinions, telling herself she didn’t care what he had to say. But she did care when it came to him trying to humiliate her in front of the entire school.

“It’s perfectly fine,” Liz assured Dr. Feldman. Clearing her throat, she gripped the ends of the podium and met Max’s gaze full on. “To answer your question, Mr. Evans, an ideal senator possesses the leadership and communication skills needed to solve the students’ concerns and issues in an efficient and effective manner, and in a way that best benefits the student body. I will be selecting students who take pride in their academic studies; students who understand the importance of attending all required meetings, and sticking to their required office hours; and, most importantly, students who will put the welfare of the university community, as a whole, above their own interests.”

Max nodded thoughtfully. “I see. So, in essence, you’re saying you will be choosing students who are just like you.”

Liz bit the inside of her lip to prevent herself from screaming, What did I ever do to you? “No,” she replied through clenched teeth, “not exactly, but is there a problem with choosing students who will take their office seriously?”

“No, that’s not what I am saying,” he said easily. “But do you honestly feel that you, or the candidates you are describing, accurately represent the varied groups of students on campus? Or are the only ones who take student politics seriously? The kinds of students that receive these recommendations are what department heads consider the “best and the brightest,” many of which are so busy that they don’t have the time to actively get to know the students. Why not allow anyone who would like to be on the Student Senate try out in an open interview process? It seems to me that by having a more varied and diverse group sitting on the Senate, the students’ needs would be better met.”

A louder applause backed him up this time.

Liz glanced down into Maria’s face to find her biting her lip worriedly. Taking a deep breath, she returned her gaze to Max and answered as diplomatically as she could. “Thank you for your suggestion, Mr. Evans. Should I be elected, I will definitely take your suggestion into consideration. Is there anything else?”

He considered that for a moment, scratching the back of his short, brown hair, before shaking his head. “Nah, I think I made my point. Thank you.” Sending her a complacent grin, he casually turned and jogged off the field.

“Now, if there are no other interruptions,” Dr. Feldman said in a curt voice, forbidding anyone to speak up, “You may now proceed.”

Liz finished reciting her speech, but she was so rattled that she doubted it made any impact whatsoever. The mood had changed with Max’s interruption, and she felt that most of them were too busy thinking about what Max had said to really listen to what she was saying.

She received a polite applause when she concluded and walked back to her seat on shaky legs. She didn’t even hear the speeches given by the candidates for President. All she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and her own silent curse of: Damn, you Max Evans!

With just a few words, he may have very well cost her the race.

-----

Michael jumped up as soon as the Q&A session ended. “Well, the speeches are over. Let’s do lunch.”

Maria turned her eyes to where Liz was descending the stairs on the side of the stage. “Hold on for just a second. I’m going to go check on Liz.”

Releasing a resigned sigh, Michael plopped back down on the blanket.

Maria knew Liz would be beating herself up over the whole debacle with Max, and she wanted to assure her she had done a great job. She had been worried at first, seeing as how Liz didn’t handle confrontation well, but her concerns had been premature. Not only had Liz shown she could hold her own against anyone who questioned her objectives, but she had shown an aggressive side of her personality that Maria hadn’t seen in years. That had her intrigued. There had been a flash of fire in her roommate’s eyes she couldn’t recall seeing before. Ever.

What was it about Max that rubbed her the wrong way? And vice versa, for that matter? This wasn’t the first time that Max had challenged Liz in front of others, but it was the first time that Liz had not shied away.

Musing over the changes she had noticed in her friend during those brief moments, she stepped around a group of boys leaving the field. She lost sight of Liz in that moment, and when she located her again, she was disappointed to see that Paul had gotten there first.

Great. She sighed inwardly, dragging her feet the rest of the way.

Paul was looking as annoying perfect as always, like he had just stepped off the page of a J. Crew catalogue. Tall, lean, and athletic, his golden hair was cut short on the sides and gelled neatly back on top. His eyes were a sea-foam green, and framed by thick brown lashes that gave him an almost feminine appearance. His wide-set mouth surrounded straight, cotton-white teeth, and when he grinned, two dimples enclosed his mouth like little parentheses. He dressed as if he was ready for a day on the golf course- lemon-yellow polo, pleated chinos, and brown leather loafers over argyle socks. To complete the look, an expensive gold watch rested on his left wrist.

She had never met anyone who resembled a Ken doll so much. It was kind of fitting, though, since Liz was like a little Barbie doll…if you removed the breasts, and hourglass figure, and the long legs, and the over done make-up, and…okay, so perhaps she was more like a brunette Skipper. Maria frowned, realizing that would mean that Ken was dating Barbie’s little sister, which was just...creepy.

Okay, I really need therapy, Maria reflected, wincing and giggling simultaneously.

“What’s so funny?”

Maria blinked; not having realized her legs had carried her all the way to the shiny couple while she’d been off on a tangent. “Oh, nothing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively.

Liz nodded and sighed, a pathetic look coming over her face. “So, how bad did I do?”

“You were great!” Maria told her truthfully. “I was really proud of the way you handled yourself against Max.”

Liz didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know…”

“You were fine on stage,” Paul began, “but once you took your seat, you seemed to be completely distracted - sulking even. It didn’t come across as very confident.”

Maria gave Paul a scowl of disbelief. This was why she would have preferred to talk to Liz alone. Her friend needed support right now, not a critique.

“Well, we all thought you did great!” she insisted. “And if you were sulking, which I didn’t see at all,” she glared pointedly at Paul, “I’m sure the audience had better things to do than scrutinize your every move…like listen to the rest of the candidates, perhaps.” She shrugged. “Just a thought.”

Liz nodded wanly.

“Of course,” Paul murmured with an insipid smile. He moved closer to Liz, half-turning his back on Maria. In short, telling her that her opinions weren’t appreciated. He had never came outright and said it, but it was no mystery that he didn’t think she was a “proper” friend for Liz.

“Regardless,” he told Liz in a deceptively soft voice, “with what Max said, everyone is going to be wondering how it affected you. Don’t let them see that he bothered you.” He smoothed her hair back from her shoulders and readjusted the collar on her suit jacket. “If they see you acting poised for greatness, you will have a better chance of getting their vote. So smile, alright?”

“Alright,” she repeated, taking his advice and planting a fake smile on her face.

“Good girl,” he said approvingly.

Maria grabbed her throat and mock-gagged behind Paul’s back. She was glad that Liz wasn’t looking, because she knew her friend wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

“What do you have planned for this afternoon?”

“She’s coming with us to Luna’s,” Maria informed Paul, determined to rescue Liz from this detrimental situation, whether Liz recognized how damaging it was or not.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Liz asked, and Maria felt her jaw clench at the question in her friend’s voice.

“If you’d like to hang out with your friends, then that’s fine, I guess. I have some things I wanted to take care of anyway. Speaking of which, did you ask Dr. Feldman for a letter of recommendation?”

Liz looked contrite. “Oh, I didn’t get the chance. He was really busy talking to all the candidates. I’ll stop by his office tomorrow morning, though. I promise.”

“Make sure you do. Remember, it’s important we get this all done now, so we aren’t left scrambling at the last moment.”

Liz inclined her head in compliance. “I know. Hey, did you want to come with us to lunch?”

“No thanks. I already ate.” He kissed her quickly. “Call me later, though, okay?”

“I will,” Liz promised.

“Be good,” he added, giving Maria a curt nod as he walked away.

Watching him go with a look of distaste, Maria then turned to Liz. “Be good? What does he think you’re going to do, go off on a killing spree?”

“No, Maria, that’s not what he’s saying,” Liz responded. “He just thinks it’s important to be cautious right now. He doesn’t want us doing anything that might jeopardize our chances of getting into grad school.”

Maria shook her head in disbelief. “My god, it’s just lunch! How much trouble could you possibly get into?”

Liz shrugged and looked away. “Can we just drop it?”

Maria relented. “Fine by me,” she sighed.

*****

Luna’s was one of Maria’s favorite restaurants in town. It had a rustic, log-cabin style décor that she found absolutely charming, and a casual, earthy feel that she found warm and inviting. The menu, a delicious selection of bread bowls and oversized, oven-toasted sandwiches, came in large portions, and was cheap, too.

The lunch crowd was in full swing when they arrived. Fortunately, they were entering just as a large group was sliding out of their booth, and Michael quickly snagged it.

Maria inhaled deeply the mixed-scents of coffee and freshly baked bread, and then slid into the booth between Tess and Liz. Alex slid in next to Michael.

“Order anything you want,” she told Liz, opening up the menu and placing it between them. “It’s on me.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Liz murmured, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes swept over the menu.

“Necessary or not, I’m buying,” Maria replied, her tone brooking no argument. “You’ve had a rough afternoon and you deserve a free lunch.”

“She’s right, you do,” Tess said perkily, “However, all of your lunches are on me today.”

“Far be it from me to turn down a free meal,” Alex began, “but what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Tess replied. “Daddy just sent me a fat check for my birthday.”

Tess’s “Daddy Dearest” was a big time art dealer in Manhattan. That’s where Tess had resided before she moved to Roswell. Her father had been contracted by the university to help them set up their new museum, and he got a bug up his ass and decided to bring Tess with him, so they could “spend some quality time together.” Tess had later told Maria that she didn’t think they had spent more than five hours in each other’s company the entire time, but she was glad he had forced her to come. For the first time in her life, she had felt like she had found a real family in Maria and her friends. Her mother had died when she was young, so it had always been just she and her father…and the nanny her father had hired to raise her.

By the time her father’s job had concluded, she had decided she did not want to return to her lonely life in New York. He had no problems with that, had even seemed a little relieved, she claimed. Since she was eighteen by then and no longer required a guardian, he had purchased the house they had been renting as a graduation gift, arranged for his secretary to take care of the bills and pay for her tuition, and had wished her luck. She had hardly heard from him since.

“Must be nice,” Michael remarked under his breath, as the waitress handed out their waters and took their food and drink orders.

When she was gone, Maria tilted her head in confusion. “Wait, your birthday was three months ago.”

“Yep,” she chirped, adding in a mock-proud tone, “That’s my dad.”

“Are you sure you want to pay?” Maria questioned. “Cause I kind of promised Michael I would buy him lunch for…” she paused, realizing she had almost admitted she had to bribe him to come support Liz, “for giving me a ride home last night,” she finished.

“Hey, I don’t care who pays, as long as I get to eat,” Michael said, holding up his hands. “I’m starving.”

“Michael, you just had a scone an hour ago.”

“And a bagel for breakfast,” he added, “but I’m still starving.”

“What are you, a bottomless pit?” she asked. “You better watch it, or you’re going to get all fat, and then there go your bimbos.”

Michael made a face, and then reached into his water glass for a piece of ice. He held it up menacingly.

“Don’t you dare,” Maria warned, squealing when he tossed it at her and it slid right down the front of her shirt. She reached down into her shirt to retrieve the piece of ice, which had gotten caught in the clasp of her bra.

“Dammit, Michael, you got me all wet!” she complained.

There was a brief silence around the table before everyone burst into laughter. Maria’s face flamed when she realized what she had said, but she had to laugh with them.

“Words I never thought I’d hear you say,” Michael teased.

Maria rolled her eyes, her gaze swinging to Liz. “Oh, lighten up,” she said when she saw Liz shift uncomfortably in her seat. “You have to admit, that was funny.”

Liz shrugged. “I guess it was, but…sorry, I’m just not in the mood for jokes right now.”

“Your speech was fine,” Maria said for the umpteenth time in the last half hour. “You handled Max’s interruption like a champ.” Liz nodded quietly and looked away. Maria looked at Michael and glared. “What the hell does your roommate have against Liz, anyway?”

Michael scowled. “What are you glaring at me for? I didn’t do it.”

“I think you’re guilty by association,” Tess offered, quickly looking away when his eyes found hers.

“I hardly associate with Max,” Michael said in his defense. “The guy would have to speak for us to associate with each other. But to answer your question, just because he asked her to explain herself, doesn’t mean he has anything against her.”

“Yes, he does,” Liz argued sharply, and Maria was once again intrigued by the fact that it was only Max that seemed to bring such a strong reaction from her friend. “I don’t know why, but this isn’t the first time he’s attacked me.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Michael told her. “He hardly attacked you. He asked you a question, and you answered it. End of story.”

Liz sighed in frustration and stood. “I’m going to go wash my hands.”

When she was gone, Maria leaned over the table and slapped him upside the head. “Would you stop being such an ass to her! She’s our friend.”

“Correction: she’s your friend.”

“And mine,” Alex said, his mouth thinning

“Yeah,” Tess simply said.

Michael tossed his hands. “Fine, you guys all love her. But just because we all hang out together doesn’t mean I have to love her too. And maybe I’d be nicer if she didn’t act like everything that doesn’t work out the way she wants is a personal conspiracy against her. It’s fricken’ annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” Maria said sweetly, “but we still keep you around.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Hey, that was quick,” said Alex, noticing Liz already reemerging from the ladies.

Scrambling for a topic, Maria suddenly recalled she hadn’t asked Michael about the panel. “Hey, what are you doing next Thursday at two?”

He shrugged. “Why?”

She relayed what Dr. Whitaker had requested that morning, putting her arm around Liz as she sat down.

“That sounds cool,” Tess said. “It will be your first live gig.”

“I don’t know,” Michael said. “It’s a lot easier to do this stuff in the studio. It might feel weird in front of an audience. Stilted, you know?”

That gave Maria a moment’s pause. “True, it will be different, but think about it this way; you’ll get to say all the things that stupid reporter left out.”

“And will look good on your résumé,” Liz offered quietly.

“Maybe,” Michael said thoughtfully.

Maria went in for the kill, purposely having held the best part for last. “And what if I told you she’s going to pay us 50 dollars each to do it?”

Michael sat up. “Fifty bucks? Why didn’t you say so? I’m there.”

Alex laughed. “Maybe you should have just said that in the first place.”

Their food came then and conversation came to a halt as they all began eating. When they were done, the subject of the bill came around again, and Maria allowed Tess to pay on the condition that she let her leave the tip.

She was rummaging in her bag for her wallet when she encountered the pink flyer Billy had given her earlier. “Hey, big party Friday night. Anyone wanna go.”

Alex picked up the flyer. “I’m game. I have a killer comp-sci test that day, so I’ll be ready to blow off some steam.”

“Where’d you get this from?” Michael asked, leaning over Alex’s shoulder to look at the flyer.

“Some guy,” Maria shrugged.

Michael frowned. “What guy?”

“Just some guy,” Maria said, shrugging.

“Where’s it at?” Tess asked.

“The loft on Clyde Street.”

“The abandoned loft?” Liz asked. “Is that legal?”

“Probably not. Guess that counts you out,” he said cheerily.

“Who cares?” Alex said. “I say we all go and have fun. And that means you too, Liz.”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Paul.”

“Fine,” Maria said, shooting Michael a warning glance when he opened his mouth to make a smart-ass comment. “But I do think we should go. It’s our night off, and we should all go out and do something fun together.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tess agreed.

Maria threw a ten on the table and they all stood to leave. “You still need a ride?” Michael asked Maria, and she nodded.

“I have to get back to campus,” Alex said, and Tess nodded. “I have class at three.”

“That’s where I’m going,” Liz said, taking her keys out of her bag as they left the restaurant.

“Well, we’ll see you later, then,” Maria said outside the entrance, giving each of her friends a hug. Liz’s car was parked on one side of the restaurant and Michael’s bike was on the other. “Call me later,” she told Tess, “So you can give me the address to that bondage site.”

“Will do,” Tess promised. “Bye.”

“So,” Michael began as he and Maria walked towards his bike. “We still need to go to the mechanic?”

“No.” She sighed heavily. “The car won’t be ready until tomorrow now.”

“What the hell? I thought it was supposed to be ready today?”

“It was, originally, but they left a message with Liz last night that they still don’t have the part.”

“Yeah, right. Sounds to me like their trying to take advantage of you, all because you’re a helpless girl.”

“I beg your pardon?” Maria cried indignantly.

Michael held up his hands innocently. “Hey, I know you’re anything but helpless, but they don’t. These places depend on their ability to sucker what they consider clueless women to make their money.” A look of resolve came over his face. “I say we go down there and find out what the hell is going on.”

Maria held back. “I don’t know…” she murmured. Sure, the very thought had crossed her mind the night before, but she hadn’t been serious. The trouble with Michael going down there was that he would raise holy hell and begin insulting people. Maria didn’t believe in conducting business like that. As someone who had waitressed all through high school, she had learned the hard way that you got more accomplished by being courteous. Unfortunately, Michael didn’t do courteous. He was outright rude, most times, and while Maria had resigned herself to being unable to change his behavior, she did her best to avoid any situation where she would have to witness it. His uncouth attitude could be downright mortifying. “It’s only one more day. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what they’ve been telling you since last Thursday,” Michael countered, passing her his helmet and climbing onto his bike.

Conceding the point, Maria climbed on behind him. “Okay, but please try to be nice,” she implored him. It was a hopeless request, but she had to at least try.

Michael looked back and smirked. “I’m always nice.”

Wrapping her arms around his middle, she leaned against his back and exhaled loudly. Oh, this is going to be fun.

The ride to Toby’s Garage took fifteen minutes. She could remember a time, not too long ago, when it only took five minutes to get from one side of town to the other. It was just another reminder of how the quaint little town she had grown up in was not so quaint anymore. With the opening of the university six years ago, the population of the town had doubled, what with the new students, staff, and professors the college had brought in. Four large suburban housing developments had been built to accommodate them, and several new shops and clubs had opened, all with the hopes of catering to the college crowd. This not only meant that there was more town to travel through, but also an increase in traffic.

Michael parked the bike in the lot and Maria followed him around the side of the building. Through the garage doors, she spotted her vehicle sitting untouched behind two other cars that were currently being serviced.

“What a surprise,” Michael commented, “Nobody’s working on it.”

Maria nodded distractedly as her eyes fell on one of the mechanics leaning over the engine of a teal Doge Neon - or, to be more accurate, as her eyes had landed on his cute rear end. Very nice. She wiggled her eyebrows, seriously digging the way the way he filled out his faded blue 501’s. She tried to get a closer look at his face, too see if it was just as cute, but she couldn’t see much from the way he was bent over.

“What are you gawking at?” Michael demanded, following her eye-line with an annoyed scowl.

“Oh. I was just…looking at my car,” she lied. Sadly, she was a horrible liar, and Michael saw right through her.

“Since when does the sight of an old Jetta make you drool?” he challenged sarcastically.

She lifted her chin primly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Now, come on, let’s get this over with.”

Michael grunted as they stepped through the door. The place was completely empty, and that included the counter. Michael stepped forward and rang the bell once. When no one came, he started ringing it constantly, until he finally yelled, “Hello? Can we get some service around here?”

Already, Maria wanted to melt into a puddle on the checkered tile.

A bulky teen with spiky red hair and a dark smattering of freckles all over his face and arms stepped out from a door behind them. “Sorry about that, I was using the can,” he said in a deep voice, flashing a sheepish grin. He stepped behind the counter. “What can I help you with?”

Michael crossed his arms over his broad chest and narrowed his eyes. “That depends. You the one taking care of the red Jetta?”

“No, I’m just the atten—”

Michael cut him off with a raised hand. “That’s fascinating, really, but we’re on a tight schedule, so why don’t you run along and get the guy who’s working on the car, because we need to have a little chat.”

Maria winced when she saw the kid’s eyes narrow slightly in response to Michael’s condescending tone. “Run along?” he repeated coolly.

Michael didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “Was I talking too fast? Fine, I’ll go little slower this time: You go fetch the grease-monkey who has been jerking my friend around here, so I can have a little talk with him. Do-you-under-stand?”

“Michael,” Maria warned in a low voice, elbowing him in the ribs.

He ignored her.

The kid flashed a brittle, polite smile. “Of course,” he said tightly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Tone it down, will you?” Maria hissed as soon as the kid had left. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you piss everyone off. Please remember we still need these people to finish my car.”

Michael waved her concerns off, the same way one would swat at a fly buzzing their ear. “Just chill, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

Groaning, she leaned over the counter and banged her head in frustration. What she really wanted to do was stomp on his toe, but it wouldn’t do any good, seeing as how he practically lived in his steel-toed Docs. I knew this was a bad idea.

“All you’re going to get for your efforts is a sore head,” a new voice advised.

Maria raised her head and met the amused baby blues of a guy who had taken the kid’s place at the counter. Her lips parted as she realized it was Mr. 501’s from the garage – the two other mechanics had been wearing dark gray coveralls - and he was even more attractive from this angle than he was from the back. Fair skinned and with high cheekbones, he had soft, light brown hair that curled slightly over the sides of his forehead, and a perfect cupid-bow’s upper lip. He was neither tall nor bulky, but there was no missing the lean muscles of his arm or the six-pack hidden under his tight, white T-shirt. From the quirk of his lip, and the smile in his eyes, she could already tell he had an easy going, yet sarcastic, sense of humor. And she just loved that in a man.

Realizing she was staring, she shook her head quickly and leaned back. “What?” she asked.

“The counter,” the guy said, his grin widening. “Not sure what it did to offend you, but it’s a deceptively passive opponent.” He patted the counter lightly. “Solid marble will kick your ass every time.”

Maria giggled. Oh yeah, total smart-ass and total hottie.

“So, what can I do you for?” he asked, getting back to business.

Michael shot her a scowl of disgust, and then turned to the hottie. “You’re working on the red Jetta?”

“I am,” he confirmed easily.

“Well, then, maybe you can explain why a car that was supposed to be ready last week is still waiting on parts?”

“I can do my best,” he said just as easily, not even batting a lash at Michael’s harsh tone. “But I’ve only been here a few days.”

“Oh great, that inspires a lot of confidence.”

The mechanic paused, his dark eyebrows slanting into an affronted frown. “Are you the owner of the car?”

“No, I am,” Maria offered.

Shooting Michael a dark look, he turned to Maria. “The guy who was working on your car is no longer here, but he ordered the wrong parts for your transmission, twice. It’s all being taken care of, though. I ordered your parts – the right ones – yesterday, and they’re being shipped fed-ex as we speak.”

“So you’re saying the car will be ready tomorrow, for sure?” Michael demanded.

“Absolutely,” the guy replied, though he didn’t pull his eyes from Maria. “I’m truly sorry for the delay, but…”

“No,” Maria interrupted quickly, smiling. “It’s not your fault. You can’t be blamed for someone else’s mistake.”

Michael made an annoyed sound in his throat. “And she won’t be charged extra for the incompetence of the guy who fucked up, right?”

The guy sighed. “Of course not. You’ll get the car at the original quote. I’ll even throw in our premium oil-change service for free.”

“Oh, that’s very generous of you,” Maria gushed, remembering her similar thoughts from last nights.

“Yeah, very generous,” Michael growled sarcastically.

“Hey, it’s the least we can do for our mistake,” he told Maria, smiling again. “Come back tomorrow. I’ll have it ready by 10 A.M.”

“Thank you so much…?” Maria purposely trailed off questioningly, wanting to get his name.

“Kyle,” he provided.

“I’m Maria,” she offered. “Maria DeLuca.”

Kyle tipped his head. “Well, Maria DeLuca, we’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“The car better be ready,” Michael warned, turning impatiently to Maria. “Can we go now?” He turned and stalked out without waiting for a response.

“Sorry about him,” Maria apologized, walking backwards towards the door.

Kyle shrugged. “I guess I can understand. You boyfriend just wants to make sure you’re not getting screwed over. I’d do the same.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” she replied hastily, blushing when she realized how obvious that had sounded.

“Oh, cool,” he said after a second, grinning widely, and she wondered if he had deliberately worded his question that way to find out? “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Absolutely,” Maria said, wincing as she backed into a floor display of three tires laying flat with the fourth sitting upright on top. She groaned as the top tire fell over and rolled into another display. “Oh god,” she murmured, leaning down to try to fix it. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kyle assured her with a chuckle, coming over to help her. “Just leave it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Her face flushed in embarrassment and she laughed nervously. “Well, thanks.” A pause. “Okay, I have to go kill myself now.”

“Don’t do that. We’re all entitled to our clumsy moments.”

“Right,” she laughed weakly. “Okay, well, bye!”

“Bye,” he sing-songed as Maria practically fled the office. She smacked her hand over her eyes, cursing herself for being such a dork. Why-why-why did she always have to turn into such a verbally incompetent spaz every time she met someone she was attracted to? No wonder she didn’t have a boyfriend!

“What the hell was that about in there?” Michael demanded as she reached the bike.

“What was what?” she asked faintly, noting his angry frown.

“I came down here to do you a favor, and you completely went Pollyanna on me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

‘Oh, it’s not your fault,’” he mocked her in a high falsetto. “‘Oh, that’s so generous of you,’” He laughed girlishly, tossing his hand flamboyantly. His grin dropped abruptly. “Christ,” he growled. “I thought I was going to lose my lunch.”

“What, it wasn’t his fault.”

“Oh, please, we both know what that was about,” he snorted, handing her his helmet. “You can’t honestly tell me you found that grease-monkey attractive.”

“What? He was really cute, and totally nice, even though you were acting like a complete ass.”

“Cute? Now I am going to lose my lunch.” He leaned over the bike and pretended to gag.

Maria climbed on behind him and slapped his back. “Grow up.”

He shook his head. “You know, you never cease to amaze me with your incredibly bad taste! Of all the losers you’ve liked, he has got to be the worst!”

“I don’t like losers,” she argued. “And I didn’t say I liked him, I just said he was cute.”

“Same difference,” he pointed out.

Maria sighed in exasperation. “Why do you care anyway?”

“I don’t,” he scoffed. “If you want to drool all over a loser, that’s your prerogative.”

“Yes, it is,” she shot back.

“Regardless, next time you think about asking me to do you a favor, do me a favor in return, and ask someone else.”

She wanted to point out that she didn’t ask him to help her out, but she bit her tongue. He was in one of those moods, and the best thing to do when he was like this was to just shut the hell up.


TBC***

Enjoy!

[Fehrbaby]

Here you go, a little mid-week post. It's just the first part of part 4, and about 10 pages, but I thought I'd get this out as a little treat, since people have been asking for two posts a week. Thanks to those of you who have been feedbacking. :hug

Enjoy!

Part 4a

“Mom, I’m home!”

Her mother stepped out of her bedroom, attempting to fasten the clasp of a chunky turquoise necklace around her neck. “Good, I was hoping you’d get here early,” Amy Deluca said – or make that Amy Caufield, as her mother had reverted to her maiden name Maria’s freshman year of college, after a motivational seminar on reestablishing one’s identity after a divorce. She had declared that she had every right to be there when Maria had gently pointed out that she and Mitch, Maria’s father, had settled the divorce over eleven years ago.

Amy’s hazel-brown eyes took in the big duffel bag Maria was dragging behind her, and an amused smile tugged at her lips. “Ah, let me guess,” she cleared her throat dramatically and adopted the tone she assumed that all twenty-somethings used these days, “‘Mom, can I do some laundry while I’m here?’”

Maria laughed. “Why, of course you can, daughter, since I know those evil people at the apartment complex make you pay a whole dollar fifty a load. Those capitalistic pigs! I say we break out the placards and march down there, right now, to begin a full-force protest.”

“Ah, my daughter, the smart ass. How I’ve missed you.”

“I learned from the best,” Maria confirmed, walking forward and giving her mother kiss on the cheek. “You look really nice,” she commented after pulling back. Her mother was wearing an airy cobalt blue skirt with a white, V-Neck sweater that wrapped around her slender waist, revealing just enough of her flat tummy to display the beaded hoop in her belly button, and the chain around her waist that threaded through the hoop. Back in high school, Maria had been absolutely mortified by the way her mother had dressed, since it was so different from all the other mothers; now, she admired her mother’s taste in vintage clothing, and had adopted the style herself. “New outfit?”

“Oh, this old thing?”

Maria smirked knowingly. Her mother was an even worse liar than she was, and that was saying a lot.

“Darn it! Could you get this clasp for me? My hands are all greasy from the perfume oil.”

Maria reached for the necklace and stepped behind her, smoothing her short brown layered hair to the side and working on the clasp. It took a few tries, as her mother’s hands had left it all slippery, but she finally managed on the third try. “Done.”

“Thank you,” Amy said gratefully, adjusting the necklace so it fell down her cleavage just so.

She followed her mother through the dining room, en route to the kitchen. She eyed the table, seeing it was already set up, decorated with Amy’s favorite tribal dish set and a tea-rose centerpiece. She drew up short as she noticed something unexpected. “Hey, who’s the fourth place setting for?”

“Oh, his son has just moved to town and will be joining us, as well.”

“Oh, he has a son. And what is his name, again?” The truth was she had yet to hear it a first time. Her mother had been keeping the identity of her boyfriend strangely secret, refusing even to tell Maria the slightest detail, with the exception of saying “He makes my toes curl.” She had claimed she hadn’t wanted to jinx the relationship, but Maria couldn’t figure out what the big deal was with giving her a name.

Her mother’s eyes widened as she glanced at her watch. “Oh, dear, is it already six forty-five? I need to get my dinner finished.”

Maria lifted an eyebrow in amusement as her mother beat a hasty retreat for the kitchen. What was really going on here? she wondered. Leaning in the door jamb, she crossed her legs at the ankles and studied her mother as she fussed at the center island

“Unconventional” was the term most often used when one described Amy Caufield. The words “scattered” and “strange” tended to be used quite often also. Maria preferred the term “eccentric.”

Amy was truly a study in contrasts. She considered herself an environmentalist, yet she drove a gas-guzzling Dodge pick up and was the proprietor of a small business that sold a myriad of plastic-based alien novelties to tourists. She considered herself a pacifist, yet she had been arrested on no less than six occasions for acts of violence and disturbing the peace. She considered herself a feminist, having lectured Maria her entire life on being independent and not compromising herself for a man, yet every time she got involved with someone new, she took on the personality of a submissive, domesticated woman reminiscent of the 50’s, who wanted to impress her man with her culinary skills.

This wasn’t the first time Maria had attended dinner with one of her mom’s new boyfriends. In fact, she had attended so many of these dinners that she was able to decode the status of the relationship by checking out what her mother put on the menu. Speaking of which…

Tip-toeing herself to the stove, she pulled down the door to find her mother’s four-cheese lasagna warming inside. “Oh, you really like him,” she commented, grinning when her mother shot her a dry look. She then removed the lid off the large kettle boiling on the top burner and peered inside – ah, her grandmother’s original Cioppino recipe. “And it’s getting serious,” she added, sounding impressed.

“Maria,” her mother chided, a touch of exasperated laughter in her voice, “Stop sniffing around my kitchen and give me a hand. They’re going to be here any minute.”

“And what could be behind door number three?” Maria sing-songed, stepping to the fridge to find what was always the most incriminating piece of evidence. Her eyes widened as she found a coconut cream pie (a sign she and her boyfriend had already been intimate) AND tiramisu (a sign that she was working on her seduction routine) sitting on the top shelf. She blinked in rapid succession, completely flummoxed.

Her eyes shot to her mother’s face. Amy was suddenly very preoccupied with chopping the vegetables for the salad. She couldn’t believe it – her mother was trying to pull a fast one on her. “Oh, I get it! The sex is so mind-blowing that you can’t wait for more!” she concluded, confident that must be it.

“Maria Elise DeLuca!”

She giggled and batted her eyelashes innocently. “What?”

“Must you discuss my sex life so…casually?”

Maria snorted. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re the one who always taught me to be open about sex. And it’s not my fault that your cooking always reflects the height of intimacy achieved by you and your new boyfriends – which, in this case, looks pretty damn high.”

“Oh, you think you’re so wise. Would you believe me if I told you that Jim and I haven’t been intimate yet?”

“No,” Maria scoffed. And then… “Aha! Jim!” she cried out, centering on the accidental admission. “Wait, Jim-who? Do I know him?”

“Uhh, I’m not sure,” her mother murmured. “Possibly.”

“Let’s see…” Maria said, tapping the side of her cheek as she tried to think of anyone she knew named Jim. “Well, there’s Jim Collier, provost of the university, but he’s married and in his sixties.” She couldn’t help raising her eyebrows questioningly.

Amy looked non-plussed by the tacit inquiry.

Waving her hands, Maria turned her eyes upward again. “Okay, okay, I didn’t think so. Hmm…” Tap-tap-tap. She searched her mind for any other Jim she knew and finally exhaled in frustration. “Well, I think I’ve hit a dead end.”

An odd look of relief crossed her mother’s attractive face, and Maria wondered at the implications of that. Was it someone she wouldn’t like, or approve of, for that matter?

“Hey, if you’re not going to help, don’t you think you should go start some laundry?”

“Right. Probably a good idea,” Maria replied, walking back to the living room and dragging her bag to the back of the house, where her mother’s utility room was. She started a load of whites and was crossing back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!”

Pulling down her frontier-style top, complete with white eyelets, she opened the door to reveal to find only Sheriff Valenti standing there. “Oh, no, what did she do now?” she asked wearily.

“I’m sorry?” the lean man asked, his bright blue eyes blinking in confusion.

“Look, whatever she did, could you be nice and come back and arrest her, or question her, later? We’re about to sit down for dinner.”

“Ah…um…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and that’s when Maria noticed the bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of tulips in the other.

“Oh,” she gasped, her eyes going the size of saucers.

Sheriff Valenti? <b>Jim</b> Valenti? No way! No freaking way!

She cleared her throat and pasted a fake smile on her face. “Uh, could you just give me…one second?” She closed the door without waiting for an answer, then practically screamed, “Mom!”

Amy came rushing from the kitchen, a look of concern on her face. “What is it, sweetie? Is everything okay?”

“The Sheriff?” she demanded in disbelief. “You’re dating the sheriff?”

Her mother took a deep breath and sighed despairingly. “I was afraid you’d react like this. Oh, no, did you leave him on the doorstep?”

“This is unbelievable!” Maria ranted, ignoring her mother’s question. “What happened to him being a tight-ass hick pig, who had all the compassion and personality of saran wrap?”

“Maria, will you lower your voice, for heaven’s sake.”

Maria rubbed her face with her hands. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she moaned. “How many times has this man thrown you in jail?”

“Things change, Maria. It’s all in the past.” She walked to the door and hissed, “Now, stop sulking like a bratty child and smile. I like Jim very much, so I want you to be polite and respectful, or I’ll ask you to leave. Do I make myself clear?”

“I guess,” she sighed, forcing a smile.

Amy ran a hand through her hair, and then opened the door with great flourish. “Jim!” she said excitedly. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Not a problem,” the sheriff assured her, then lifted the wine and flowers. “Oh, I brought you these.”

“Oh, Jim!” her mother gushed, her voice lowering flirtatiously, “That was so sweet of you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, leaning in to give her a quick kiss.

Amy laughed and gestured forward. “Come in, please. Where’s your boy?”

The sheriff entered and closed the door behind him, his eyes darting to Maria hesitantly. “Oh, he had to work a little later than anticipated. He should be here soon, though. He wanted to run home and clean up before dinner.”

“So he got the job?” Amy asked, clapping her hands together in delight. “I’m so glad.”

The sheriff tipped his head in Maria’s direction. “Hello, Maria.”

“Hello,” she repeated, seeing her mother sending her a look of warning out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I was just a little…” Shocked. Disgusted. Revolted. “surprised,” she finally settled on. Objectively, she supposed she could see the attraction, as he was good-looking for an older man, but she had grown up hearing what a stick-in-the-mud ass the sheriff was, so the idea of them dating just made no sense. Look at the facts – her mother was a hippie and he was a cop. In what reality would that ever work out in?

“It’s quite alright,” he assured her, running a hand through his short blond hair. “We figured this might throw you for a bit of a loop.”

“Here, let me take those,” Maria offered, relieving him of the flowers and wine and carrying them into the kitchen. She found a vase for the tulips, noting the rather beautiful colors. She inhaled their fragrance with a smile, then looked speculatively in the direction of the living room. It was still hard to believe, but maybe she was being too hard on her mother’s choice. She thought about some of the other guys her mom had dated and realized it could be a lot worse. At least this one had a job, had gentlemanly manners, and would never ever slap her around.

Deciding to give it a fair chance, she made her way back to the living room. As she neared, she heard them murmuring softly. She stopped in the doorway of the dining room and poked her head out to observe.

“So, tight-ass hick pig?” He was questioning her. He was standing at her back, his arms clasped loosely around her middle, and they were sort of swaying together to a tune only the two of them could hear in their bubble of infatuation.

Amy laughed. “Well…you always were wound a little tight.”

“I was just doing my job.”

“Perhaps. But you still drove me crazy.”

“Like now?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

Amy’s face flushed with delight. “Well, that’s a different kind of crazy.”

Maria smiled despite herself, having to admit that it was kind of sweet seeing them sharing the moment.

The doorbell rang at that moment, causing them to reluctantly pull away. Amy went to answer the door and Maria chose that moment to make her entrance.

Her mother’s voice rang out as she cheerily welcomed the newcomer, whom she figured to be Sheriff Valenti’s son. He entered moments later, and that’s when Maria received her second surprise of the night.

*****

Maria’s mouth gaped and her stomach settled somewhere in the vicinity of her ankles. Oh, I don’t know how many more of these surprises I can take!

Valenti’s son was none other than Kyle; the hottie mechanic from Toby’s Garage! And wasn’t he looking absolutely gorgeous in a dark blue dress shirt tucked into a pair of jeans with the sleeves rolled up, and his freshly showered hair curling over his forehead. Damn!

This was the first time she’d seen him since yesterday. Like promised, the car had been ready when Liz took her down to pick it up that morning, but she’d been a little disappointed – okay, make that a lot – when Kyle had been nowhere to be seen. Conversely, a small part of her had been relieved. After the complete idiot she had made of herself on her departure yesterday, she hadn’t been sure she could show her face to him again.

Maria stood stock still as she watched Amy lead Kyle into the house, her arm linked with his. Distantly, she heard her mother gushing about how happy she was to finally meet him.

“Likewise,” he replied, smiling politely. Amy squeezed his arm and released him to close the door. Kyle took the opportunity to do a quick scan of her mother’s small, but neat living room. His baby-blues briefly passed over Maria, and then quickly returned. A curious smile of recognition stole over his handsome face.

Amy walked over and tugged at Maria’s arm, nudging her forward. “Kyle, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Maria.”

“No need for that,” he informed her. “We’ve already met.” He turned his attention back to Maria and grinned teasingly. “Good to see you still alive and kicking.”

Maria’s face flushed at the reminder of her complete moment of sheer-klutziness the day before. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well I took your advice to heart, and decided I could probably brave another day.” Though I might really have to do myself in if I make a fool of myself tonight.

His eyes twinkled in amusement. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

Her mother’s eyes were darting back and forth between them, witnessing their exchange in what looked like total bewilderment. Taking pity on her, Maria decided to clue her in. “Kyle is the mechanic who was working on the Jetta.”

“Oh?”

“And your daughter didn’t like the way we arranged the tire displays in the service office, so she decided to rearrange them for us,” Kyle supplied, biting back a chuckle.

Maria laughed nervously, her face growing warmer. “Unfortunately, I’ve never exactly been light on my feet.”

“That’s for sure,” Amy agreed, a fond, semi-evil grin spreading over her face. “The stories I could tell you…”

“Um, can I offer you all a glass of wine,” Maria interjected swiftly, changing the subject before her mother decided to regale them all with the tales of her maladroit childhood.

“Oh, that’d be lovely, sweetheart,” her mother said appreciatively. “Gentlemen?”

Jim tipped his head. “Thank you, Maria.”

“I’m not much a wine drinker,” Kyle informed them. “Do you have anything non-alcoholic?”

“There’s some green tea in the fridge, and I think there are a few cans of Pepsi in the garage,” Amy supplied in answer, since Maria really didn’t know what her mother had on hand.

Maria raised her brows at Kyle.

“Tea is fine,” he decided. She began to turn, when he said, “Wait, I’ll help you out.”

“Oh…okay, thanks.” She motioned for him to follow, trying to quell the sudden hummingbirds flitting about in her stomach. Damn. She’d been hoping to get away for a second so she could calm her nerves before she managed to do anything spastic again. No chance of that now.

“So, how is the car running for you?” he asked as they passed through the dining room.

“Oh, better than it has in a long time.” She looked back at him and flashed a smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded and they entered the kitchen. Maria cleared a space on the counter, overly aware of his eyes on her.

“How weird is it that our parents are dating?” he asked as he waited for instructions.

Maria met his eyes and grinned. “So weird. Especially considering the fact that our parents have a rather complicated history as rivals.”

He looked surprised. “Really? How so?”

“Well,” Maria reached up into the counter and carefully pulled out there wine glasses and a tumbler for his tea, “my mother has spent a good portion of her life crusading against ‘The Man,’ and tends to get a little carried away sometimes, and your father has spent a good portion of his life putting her behind bars.”

“No kidding?” Kyle wrapped his fingers around the neck of the wine bottle and held it up. “Bottle opener?”

Maria rummaged through the miscellaneous utensil drawer. She found one in the back and handed it over, looking away as their hands briefly came in contact. She cleared her throat. “No kidding. I about had a heart attack when I found out your father was my mom’s boyfriend. I mean, it seems so unlikely. I thought they hated each other.”

Kyle laughed as he began rotating the bottle opener into the cork. “Who knows? Maybe it was some long-term, extreme form of foreplay?”

Maria’s hand paused on the door of the refrigerator as she considered that. “You think?”

He shrugged. “A few days back, my dad did mention that he’s been interested for a long time.”

“Really? How long?”

“I can’t be sure, but your parents were still married at the time. I do know that.”

“Wow,” she murmured, impressed. She wondered if maybe Kyle was right? That all her mom’s ranting and raving over the sheriff hadn’t been a cover for underlying feelings. And if so, how long had those feelings been present? She decided to file those thoughts away for the next time she and her mother had a chance to chat.

A silence settled over the room as she poured Kyle’s tea and returned the jug to the fridge. Feeling awkward as she watched Kyle fill the wine glasses, she scrambled for something to say. “So, my mom said you just moved into town?”

“This past weekend,” he confirmed, filling the last glass.

“And what do you think of our lovely town?”

“Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot to do,” his eyes rose to hers slowly, and there was something flirtatious about the grin he gave her, “but, I have to say, I’ve been liking the scenery.”

Having a pretty strong feeling that she was the scenery he was referring to, she bit her lip and turned away to hide her blushing cheeks. Anxiously, she turned around and reached for a dish towel, wiping down the spotless counter. “So, where did you live before?”

“Everywhere.”

“Such as?”

“After mom and dad got divorced, she married Rafe Thompson, an Army man,” he informed her, his voice dropping into a mocking macho-man tone. He shrugged. “We moved around a lot. For the last six years, we were in L.A. Before that, it was Germany, Texas, Florida, Japan, and Arizona.”

Maria met his eyes again. “Wow, so I’m speaking to a world traveler, then.”

“I guess.” He shrugged and leaned against the counter.

“So why in the world would you want to come to Roswell?”

“Wanted to spend some time getting to know my dad.”

She nodded and folded the dish towel.

“So, I was kind of disappointed I missed you this morning,” Kyle confessed in a quiet voice as he re-corked the bottle.

“Yeah?” she asked, her stomach tangling and heart rate speeding up. Cool, calm, and casual, she commanded herself. “Why’s that?” Perfect, she congratulated herself.

“Well, since I am new in town, I was thinking maybe you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour of the town?”

Maria stomach dropped with disappointment.

“And,” he continued, his eyes lowering to the counter, a small smile pulling at his lips, “if that tour happens to bring us to your favorite restaurant and, later, to a local movie theater or something, that would be cool, too.” He glanced up to see if that was okay.

Maria couldn’t help herself from grinning like a fool. “Oh, yeah,” she said coyly, “I think that can be arranged.”

He looked relieved. “Cool.”

She was about to ask him when he wanted to get together when Amy suddenly breezed into the kitchen. “How are things going in here?”

“Just fine,” Maria replied, tearing her eyes away from Kyle and smiling.

Kyle lifted one of the glasses. “Here’s your wine, Ms. Caufield.”

“Oh, no, call me Amy. Ms. Caufield is so formal.” She shuddered in distaste. “Why don’t you put those on the dining room table and have a seat.”

“Do you need any help?” Maria made the token offer, although she knew her mother liked to make a big presentation of bringing out the meal.

“Thanks for the offer, sweetie, but I can handle it. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll be out shortly.”

-----

Michael’s mouth gaped in awe as Maria entered the studio that night with ten minutes to spare. “Is that what I think it is?”

Maria grinned as she glanced down at the foil-covered paper plate in her hands. “Yep.”

“For me?”

“Yep.”

“You are a goddess of the highest order,” he told her, giving her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, and relieving her of the plate. His eyes rolled in ecstasy as he inhaled. “Oh, man…I think I just came.”

Laughing, Maria flopped down in her chair and reached for her headphones. “I’ll be sure to tell my mother.”

He smirked. “Yeah, I bet she’d love to hear that.” Picking up the plastic fork Maria had put on the plate, Michael dug in with gusto. “So,” he said around a large piece of lasagna, “How was diner with the new boyfriend?”

“Oh!” She bounced excitedly in her chair, knowing that only Michael could truly appreciate her disbelief. Not having the most stellar home life growing up, he had practically grown up in the DeLuca household. “My mom is dating…” she paused for emphasis, “Sheriff Valenti. ”

Michael swallowed abruptly and began coughing. Maria slapped his back and grabbed him the bottle of water she’d picked up in the vending machine outside. “Thanks,” he murmured after a long drink. Eyes expanding, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re bullshitting me, right?”

“Nope.” She waved as Tess entered the producer’s booth.

“How the hell did that happen?”

Maria shrugged and kicked her legs up on the consul. “I don’t know; I didn’t get the chance to ask. All I know is that they’re crazy about each other.”

Michael shook his head and shoveled in another bite. “That relationship has a shelf-life of two weeks, tops. Mark my words.”

“I don’t know,” Maria murmured. “Things seemed to be pretty serious already. It was actually kind of sweet.”

“If you say so.” Michael looked far from convinced. “Anything else exciting happen?”

“Well…” Maria trailed off, unable to prevent the smile splitting her face. She began chewing on her pinky-nail as she recalled her discussion with Kyle in the kitchen earlier that night, and later, their goodbye. They hadn’t gotten another opportunity to talk really talk in private the remainder of the night; not until it was time for them to leave.

Dinner conversation had centered around the convoluted history of Amy and Jim, where they analyzed and mock-debated the validity of all of Amy’s arrests. She had excused herself many times to go check on her laundry and start new loads, every time secretly hoping Kyle would follow her so they could exchange numbers. It wasn’t until she was putting the last load in the bag – it was already ten-thirty and she needed to be going if she was going to get to work on time – that he came up and asked her for her number so she could give him the ‘tour’ of the city.

A warm flush flooded her face and she giggled.

That was enough to divert Michael’s attention away from his food. He looked at her sideways, waiting to be let in on the joke. “What are you laughing about?” he demanded when she didn’t reply.

“Well,” she said again, “you remember that guy from Toby’s yesterday? Kyle?”

Maria wasn’t surprised when his smile transformed into a scowl. After yesterday’s reaction to her showing interest in Kyle, he was bound to go into his overprotective routine. As always. “Yeah, what about him?”

“Well, he was there tonight. It turns out he’s Valenti’s son.”

“I didn’t know Valenti have a son.”

“Yep, for twenty-two years now. He grew up with his mom and step-dad, all over, but most recently in L.A., and just moved out here to spend some time with his dad.”

Michael tossed his plate on the consul and turned to the computer screen. “L.A., huh? Well, that explains all the sleazy phoniness. No wonder he makes such a good mechanic.”

Maria rolled her eyes in exasperation. “What does his ability to work on a car have to do with sleaziness?”

“No, I’m talking his ability to dupe women. I told you yesterday that mechanics depend on their ability to take advantage of women, and he rolled in with his fake, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ and ‘oh, it’s not my fault,’ and you bought it - hook, line, and sinker.”

“Oh, he wasn’t being fake,” she said quickly, tossing that suggestion away. “I talked to him quite a bit tonight and he really is a nice guy.”

“If you say so.” He snorted, starting to turn around, but changing his mind at the last minute. “You know, your naiveté astounds me.”

“Well, he asked me out tonight,” she told him, despite the fact that it hadn’t exactly happened that way, “so that proves he wasn’t just charming me.”

A deep crease formed over his brow. “So, you’re actually interested in him?”

“Yeah, I think I am,” she murmured, smiling again.

Michael shook his head and grabbed his headphones. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. “You do realize that if things are truly as serious between your parents as you say, then they might end up getting married and you would be related. That’s like incest.”

“Michael, it’s not incest if there’s no blood-relation.”

He snorted. “Says you.”

“Says everyone.”

“Oh, yeah?” Michael’s eyes narrowed with determination as he flipped on the mike, three minutes ahead of schedule, and mid-song on the pre-recorded music reel. “Good evening, my curious little listeners. I know we’re a tad early tonight, but my lovely co-host and I were just having a rather fascinating dialogue, and have reached a stalemate, of sorts.”

Maria slapped him on the arm and covered the mike with both hands. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed in alarm.

He smacked her hands away and delivered her an insolent smirk. “But what is this dialogue, you ask?” he continued mysteriously. “Well, allow me to share the story a ‘friend’ has very recently relayed to us. Our friend – we’ll call her…Marie - has just found out the object of her sweaty, thigh-clenching lust is none other than the son of her mother’s boyfriend.”

Maria’s eyes bugged out as she listened. Christ, Marie? Could he be more plainly obvious? Oh, god, what if Kyle had decided to listen in? He had seemed really interested in the show when it was brought up at dinner that night. What if he decided to give it a listen? She fervently prayed with everything in her that he didn’t know the frequency of the campus station.

Michael didn’t even bother to look at her as he went on. “‘Marie’ reports that her mother’s relationship is looking pretty serious, and if this trend continues, even has the possibility of ending in marriage. So, her question is, is it okay to go after the boyfriend’s son, in spite of the fact that their parent’s are together? Or, in fact, would this still be considered by society as an instance of incest? Maria and I can’t seem to see eye-to-eye on this, and that is where you come in. Give us a ring at 555-KROZ and let us know what you think. We’ll be waiting.”

He flipped off the mike and sat back in his seat.

“You colossal jackass!” Maria screeched, pummeling his chest with her fists. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He caught her by the wrists and locked his eyes on her. “Just testing your theory. You claim that everyone will believe it’s not incest if there’s no blood relation, so let’s see.”

Maria lifted her brows in challenge and sat back. “Fine by me,” she snarled. “You’re the one who’s going to feel like an ass when they agree that I’m right.”

“Want to make a wager on that?”

Maria didn’t flinch. “Name your terms.”

“We’ll take five calls. Majority rules – that’s three out of five. If I win, you do my laundry for the next month.”

“And if I win…” she trailed off, considering what she wanted. She smirked as inspiration hit. “And if I win, you have to wait on the girls and me, hand and foot, next time we do a chick-flick DVD marathon. We’re doing the five hour presentation of Pride & Prejudice in two weeks, and plan to do pedicures.”

Michael looked a little green at that prospect, but, never being one to back out on a challenge, he offered his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

She shook his hand and yanked him in close, so that there noses were practically touching. “I sure hope you have a steady hand with a nail polish brush, Mikey-boy.”

TBC in 4b***

As always, feedback is appreciated!
:kiss

[Fehrbaby]

<b>I know this part is pretty short, but I have about a thousand papers to grade and just got home from a barbeque at my boyfriend's house and don't have time to write any more. Longer part will be out next week, I promise - and the answer of who won the contest.</b>

Part 4b

“So, tell me about the guy,” Tess commanded the moment Maria stepped into her car the following night on the way to the party.

Shrugging out of her denim jacket, Maria turned to face her friend with a look of confusion. “Huh? What guy?”

“Duh, the one that had Michael’s boxers in a twist last night. From the show…?”

Maria grinned. “Oh, that guy.”

“Yes, that guy. Now, spill! I want details! And make it quick; we’ll be at Michael’s in two minutes.”

Maria rolled her eyes in amusement. She saw this one coming from a mile away. Tess always wanted to know everything about everything, so it came as no surprise that she was drying to know the details of the potential new man in Maria’s life. And she didn’t mind at all. It was nice to have someone to share it with that wouldn’t be judgmental about it. “Okay…well, his name is Kyle.”

“Uh-huh?”

“And he’s the son of mom’s new boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I got all that last night,” Tess said impatiently and she pulled the car out of the complex. “You met him at dinner?”

“Actually, I met him at the garage. He worked on my car.”

“Okay, so he has a job. That’s good. Does he go to school?”

“Not right now, he doesn’t. He’s only been in town for about a week.”

“Where was he before?”

“He had a military step-father, so he’s lived all over the world.”

“Worldly…even better. Cute?”

Maria met her questioning gaze with an oh-you-have-no-idea look. “Oh-so-cute.”

“Stats?”

Maria sighed happily as she recalled the way Kyle had looked when she had first laid eyes on him at the garage behind the counter. It was the same image that had played in her mind all day. “He’s twenty-two, has brown hair, blue eyes, a lean, muscular body, and fills out a pair of Levi’s like there were custom-made.”

Tess mimicked Maria’s sigh. “Niiice. Has he called yet?”

Maria snorted. “Tess, he’s a guy. I don’t expect to hear from him for at least three days.”

Tess nodded and glanced over, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. “Ugh, I hate that. What is with that anyway?”

“I don’t know. Some bullshit about not wanting to seem too eager or something.”

“You know, whoever gave guys that idea should have their balls cut off!”

“Amen to that, sister. The waiting can be pure agony.”

“Don’t they realize we want them to appear eager? I mean, I want to know where I stand before too much time is invested.”

Maria considered that. “Well, to be fair, there are the guys who are too eager and won’t leave you alone.”

“Ugh, I know the kind. They’re like little puppy dogs.” Tess shuddered.

“I was going to say leeches, but that works.”

Tess waved her hand. “Okay, back on topic. So he asked you out. How’d he do it?”

Maria bit her lip. “Well, he didn’t exactly ask me out. Or, he did, kinda, but it was in a roundabout way.”

“How do you mean? And be specific,” she instructed, a bit of whine to her voice. “I haven’t a date in four months and have to live vicariously through you.”

Maria smiled and recited the entire conversation verbatim. It had been playing on loop in her head the entire day, after all, and it felt good to actually repeat it out loud.

“Nice touch subtly adding that in there,” Tess remarked, pulling her car up to the main drive of Michael’s dorm. She put the car into park and honked, and then turned to face Maria. “I give him ten points for smoothness. And another ten for his incredibly good taste.”

“Aww, thank you, sweetie.”

“Aww, you’re welcome.”

Maria looked over at the double doors of the dorm to see Michael emerging. She exhaled and notched her head in his direction. “Now, I’ve just got to figure out a way to keep him from sabotaging it.”

Tess gave her a sympathetic look, indicating she didn’t envy her position. “Good luck with that.”

-----

The loft where the party was being held had been empty for as long as Maria could remember. It was actually an old firehouse in the Historic District of Roswell that had been converted to a night club back in the seventies. Amy had lobbied the Roswell City Council to have it restored to its original pre-World War I state at one point, but as of yet, it remained untouched. Well, relatively untouched, as the classic double doors and the plywood covering the windows were now decorated with layers of graffiti.

It was bustling with activity when they arrived, both inside and out. The loud music pouring from the speakers mingled with the even louder clatter of students greeting friends with jovial shouts and invitations to tip one back in celebration of the long-awaited weekend.

Maria and Tess locked arms as they fell in step behind Michael, allowing him to lay an open path for them to walk through in the crowds. “Do you see Alex?” Tess asked, her head traveling the length of the room in search of their friend. He had called her cell a few minutes before, letting them know he had already arrived and would be waiting for them.

Lifting to her tip-toes, Maria’s squinted eyes swept over the dim room in search of his dark head. She looked past the old bar, which was only being used as a place for friends to converse; past the old pool tables, each covered in a steady blanket of dust; past the stage, where people were sitting on the raised platform around the D.J.

“Over there.” Michael pointed to one of the round tables in the far back, where their tall and lanky friend was chatting enthusiastically about something with his former high school band-mates, Nicky Mullins and Marcos Ontiveros.

“Ten bucks says he’s trying to talk them into a revival of The Whits, again,” Tess wagered as they made their way over.

They exchanged pitying smiles. Poor Alex. He was always trying so hard to get his high school band back together, but no one seemed to be biting. His frustration was becoming obvious. Six years ago, they had been one of the pioneers of the local garage scene. It had taken him three months to finally get a talented enough group together. Then, after three months, and a few gigs, they had broken up because of “creative differences.” It was just killing Alex that the bands that had come after were now reaping all the benefits.

Alex launched himself to his feet the moment he spotted them. “Ladies! I am so glad you’re here.” He gave each of them a hug, then turned to Michael. “Michael, please, back me up on this.” He motioned in the direction of his companions. “If we were to reform, we would not be starting back at square one. The Whits still have name recognition amongst the West Roswell alumni, right?”

Maria dropped her jacket into one of the chairs that Alex had been saving for them and looked at Tess. “I think it’s time for a beer. Whatdya say?”

-----

Three beers into the party, Maria rose a little unsteadily to her feet. She hadn’t eaten much that night so the alcohol was going straight to her head. She wasn’t drunk, but she definitely had a nice, warm, tingly buzz.

“Where are you off to?” Michael inquired.

“Bathroom.”

“Again? You just went ten minutes ago.”

Maria grimaced. “I think I broke the seal.”

Tess tossed her head back and giggled. If Maria was a lightweight, Tess was a featherweight, and as of right now, she was pretty damn plastered. Thank god Michael wasn’t drinking. If this trend kept up, he’d have to drive them both home.

Michael looked lost. “Huh? What seal?”

“You know, broke the old urethral o’ring.” She lifted her brows, waiting for Michael to catch on.

Michael rolled his eyes as he sipped his soda. “Sorry I asked.”

“Want me to go with?” Tess offered, attempting to rise to her feet. She was making a hell of a sloppy job doing it, too, and Maria was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to make the walk.

“No, that’s okay, really.”

Tess looked relieved as she plopped back down in her seat. As Maria began to leave, she heard Tess whispered loudly in Alex’s ear. “I think it’s time to cut her off.”

-----

Maria paused after stepping out of the bathroom, having heard the semi-faint sound of an acoustic guitar trying to hold its own against the much louder sound of the D.J.’s music.

Walking around the back of the roped-off staircase, she followed the sound of the music, finding the source in a smaller room, separated from the rest of the loft by a single wall. Stopping in the entranceway, a soft smile played around her lips as she watched Billy strumming his guitar. A small group of listeners surrounded him, all swaying back and forth to his fairly impressive rendition of Harry Chapin’s <u>Cats in the Cradle</u>.

She leaned in the doorway and began mouthing the words. Her mother loved this song, and she had learned the lyrics to it long before she even learned to read.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
"When you coming home, son?"
"I don't know when,
But we'll get together then, dad.
You know we'll have a good time then."

As he played the last few melancholy strands of the song, his eyes opened and landed directly on hers. A brief look of surprise appeared on his face before he smiled.

Maria tipped her head in compliment, while the others clapped and patted him on the back. Thanking them, he swiftly rose to his feet and trotted over to Maria. “Hey, you made it.”

“Well, my friends and I decided we were overdue for some nice, clean fun.” She looked around the loft with a small grimace. “Though I don’t know how clean this place is. I think I saw a fuzzy ball of mold actually moving in the ladies.”

“Seriously?”

She grinned impishly and shrugged.

“Oh, you’re fucking with me. I get it.”

“Maybe a little,” she said teasingly. She nodded to the guitar in his hand. “That a Gibson?”

He raised the guitar so she could see. “Yeah, a J150,” he said proudly. “Do you play?”

“A little.” She reached out to stroke the smooth rosewood finger board with mother of pearl inlay. “I’ve never played anything this beautiful, though. It really is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” he murmured, staring down at it reverently. “It took me three summers of bussing tables to save up enough money, but the moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her.”

She could appreciate that. It must have cost a small fortune, but Gibsons were well worth it.

“I should probably go put this away. I think I’m done playing for the night.” He assessed her for a moment. “Did you wanna come with me?”

“Come with you where?”

He notched a finger in the direction of the stairs. “My case is upstairs.”

She hesitated, not sure if that was such a great idea. He seemed cool and all, but she hardly knew him and didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. “You know, I should probably be getting back to my friends...”

“Oh, come on, it’ll only take a minute. Besides, it’s pretty cool upstairs. You ever been up there?”

She shook her head. She had been to the loft once before, back in high school, but her visit had been limited to the first floor.

“Then, I absolutely can’t let you go until you’ve had the full tour.” He grabbed her hand, and tugged gently on her arm. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.”

She laughed despite herself. After all, he seemed pretty harmless. “Okay, but just for a minute.”

TBC***

[Fehrbaby]

This part is short, like I warned before, but it answeres some questions about Billy, gives us a little insight to Alex, and even shows some more of that Michael's jealousy that everyone is waiting for. Enjoy!

Part 5a

“How do you do it, man?”

Michael tore his eyes from the cute blonde across the room that had been making eyes at him since they had arrived and looked at Alex. “Do what?”

Alex glanced over to the blonde Michael had been eyeing, and then back at Michael. “The girls, man.”

Michael sighed, realizing that they were back to this talk again. Anytime Alex got even semi-intoxicated, he would start to lament the lack of female-companionship in his life and would seek Michael’s advice on how to attract the ladies.

Not that Michael really minded. Truth be told, he genuinely liked Alex. Admittedly, he hadn’t been too fond of him when they were younger, having dismissed Alex as a run-of-the-mill computer geek. Over the years, though, he had come to appreciate Alex’s quirky sense of humor, his intelligence, and his enormous heart.

“You’re just so amazing with women,” Alex continued. “Meanwhile, I can’t get within three feet of a girl before I’m stuttering and making a complete jerk of myself.”

Michael shrugged. “It’s about confidence, man. I’ve seen you talk to girls before…you either end up stuttering, or begin making fun of yourself. Why?”

“Defense-mechanism, I guess.”

“Against what? You think you have to make fun of yourself, before she does? Or point out your flaws to let her know you’re aware of them?”

Alex considered that. “Yeah. That about covers it.”

“See, you’re setting yourself up to fail. You’re insecurities show as clear as day, and nothing turns a woman off more than insecurity.” He looked to the side. “Isn’t that right, Tess?”

Tess, who had been looking off into space, turned her head slowly to look at them. “Huh?”

Michael and Alex shared a smirk. She was plastered, and didn’t have the first clue what they were talking about.

Alex leaned against the table. “Okay; so I gotta be confident. How do I do that?”

“Well, cut out the stuttering and self-deprecating shit, for one thing,” Michael advised. “Show her you’re comfortable with yourself, flaws and all.”

“Okay, okay. Like how? Give me an example.”

“I don’t know.” Michael thought about that for a second, considering what he would do if he were in Alex’s shoes. “Okay. Walk up to the girl, whoever she is, and say hi. Keep eye contact most of the time, but let your eyes linger on her lips or chest a little too. Make it clear you find her desirable, but don’t leer. Tell her you’ve been unable to take your eyes off her all night. Then, ask her if she wants to dance. If she says yes, cool. If not, simply shake your head, like she’s missing out on something, and walk away. She’ll be intrigued, and so will her friends.”

“You mean, do it in front of all her friends?” Alex gulped, looking appalled at the idea.

“Alex, how many times do you really see a girl standing alone at one of these things?”

He nodded. “Good point. Okay, then what?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Michael said, “Just play it by ear, is the best I can tell you. She may or may not come around. If she doesn’t, just move on. But don’t give up, and don’t sell yourself short. You’re a great guy, and any girl would be lucky to have you.”

Michael ended the discussion there, clearing his throat and shifting in his chair. Even though everything he had said to Alex was the way he felt – any girl would be lucky to have Alex – that was about as comfortable as he felt with expressing his feelings.

Glancing at Maria’s empty seat, he suddenly realized how long she had been gone. “Christ, how long does it take to go to the bathroom?” he said, scanning the area she had disappeared into.

Tess giggled at that.

“What?” Michael asked, seeing something in her eyes that he didn’t like.

“Maria’s not in the bathroom,” Tess informed him, leaning over the table, and propping her hands against her palms.

“Huh? Where is she?”

“Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I saw her disappear upstairs with some guy a few minutes ago.”

Suddenly alert, Michael’s eyes darted to the upstairs loft. “What guy?” he demanded sharply.

Tess tossed her hand. “I don’t know. He had a guitar.”

Michael didn’t like the sound of that. Maria had been drinking, which meant she wasn’t exactly thinking straight. Still, she should know better than to go upstairs with some strange guy at a party. What if he tried to take advantage of her? What if she was too drunk to fend him off?

“Calm down, Michael, she can take care of herself,” Tess said, rolling her eyes.

“I know that,” Michael said, though he even recognized the lack of conviction in his voice. He couldn’t help it. He cared for Maria more than anyone else in this world, and the thought of something happening to her made him physically ill.

Keeping his eyes on the upstairs, he drummed his fingers on the table a few times before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Michael, wait…”

But Michael was deaf to Tess’s voice. He just had to check for himself; to make sure Maria was okay. He knew she’s probably be irritated by him checking up on her, but he really didn’t care. She should be thankful that someone was looking out for her.

Pushing his way through the throng of writhing bodies on the dance floor, he made his way to the stairs with a single-minded focus. He hopped over the rope at the base of the stairs, and took the steps of the winding staircase two at a time, pausing at the landing of the lavish balcony. The room had thick red carpeting, and several round-backed booths that had once seated the VIP clientele back when this was a club. It was practically empty, with the exception of a few couples who had sought out the dark balcony to make out. He strolled the length of the balcony slowly, checking each couples for Maria’s face. Thankfully, she wasn’t one of them.

Then again, if she wasn’t here, where was she?

Straining his eyes in the darkness, he found a hallway at the end of the balcony, and strode towards it. He followed it down about twenty feet before he saw an open door at the end. Slowing his pace as he neared, he peered inside and froze. Maria was indeed there, but she didn’t look like she needed rescuing. And she certainly wasn’t being taken advantage of. In fact, she looked to be the aggressor, stretched out on top of Billy Darden, a local musician who occasionally sang in clubs around town.

Michael blinked when he heard a moan come from Maria’s lips, wondering at the strange tightening the sound had elicited in his chest. Wondering why, instead of feeling his usual protective instincts come out, he suddenly felt a little sick at the sight of her wrapped around another guy?

*****

She hadn’t meant to kiss him. It had just sort of happened.

They had just been sitting on the covered couch, talking about music, and the conversation had turned to the show. He had been telling her how much he admired what she did, and they had been laughing, when she realized how much she was enjoying herself. Admittedly, the alcohol might have had something to do with it, but she suddenly had the impulse to kiss him. So she had. And within minutes, they were making out on the couch; one big tangle of hands and arms and mouths.

She knew why she had done it; months of having no intimate contact had her feeling so restless and lonely that she was desperate for some – any- physical contact. But it wasn’t really working. While Billy seemed like a cool guy, and her body was responding positively to his touch, there wasn’t any real chemistry between them. It felt good…but it also felt wrong. Wrong to jump into a physical relationship with someone she hardly knew, and wrong to lead him on when she wasn’t really interested in him.

Part of her wanted to just abandon herself to the moment, enjoy the physical sensations, and deal with the repercussions later. But she knew she couldn’t, in good conscience, do that. It just wasn’t her style. So, when she felt his warm hands start to slide up the back of her shirt, she knew it was time to pull back.

“Billy, wait,” she murmured, tearing her mouth from his.

He stared up at her with glazed eyes. “What’s wrong?” he panted, looking confused.

“I think we should stop.”

“Wait, why?”

“I’m sorry, but--.”

She started to pull herself off of him, but he pulled her back down. “Just relax,” he urged her, going for her mouth again.

“No, Billy, really, I want to stop.”

He sighed when she pulled back again. “What the problem?” he asked.

“I’m just not comfortable with this,” she explained calmly.

“Don’t act like a blushing virgin, baby, ‘cause we both know you ain’t.”

Maria stared down at him in shock, unable to believe his audacity. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, come on. We both know that you have more notches on your bed post than Ron Jeremy, so you can stop with the coy act. Hey, where are you going?”

Repulsed to the point of physical sickness, Maria crawled all the way off of him. “You’re an asshole,” she spat, shaking as she adjusted her clothes.

He sat up and scowled. “I’m an asshole? Oh, that’s rich, coming from you. What, did I offend your delicate sensibilities by speaking the truth?”

The truth, the truth. Everyone thinks they are an expert. She walked to the door, refusing to dignify that with an answer.

“Fine, leave, you cock-teasing little bitch.”

Turning on her heel, she gave him a withering glare. “You know, you have a lot to learn about respecting women, you arrogant prick.”

TBC in 5b

Depends on how much work I get done, but I'm going to try to get a little more out either today or tomorrow. Let me know what you think? :kiss

[Fehrbaby]

Thanks for all the feedback. I really appreciate it all!

Here's Part 5b, like promised.

Part 5b

Maria pasted a smile on her face when she arrived back at the table. Her mood was still pretty morose, but she was determined not to ruin her friends’ fun. Michael was nowhere to be seen, but Tess and Alex were sitting with their heads together, both staring out at the dance floor. Her brow dropped in confusion when she saw Alex point at something, or maybe someone, and Tess shake her head, and then watched Tess point, and Alex shake his.

“What are you two plotting?” she asked suspiciously as she sat.

“Hey,” Tess said perkily. “We’re not plotting, we’re scoping the hot chicks.”

“Okay,” Maria said slowly, wondering since when Tess’s preferences has changed to females. “Explain.”

Alex leaned over to do so, but Tess got there first. “We’re trying to find a hot babe so Alex can get laid.”

“No, no, no,” Alex interjected, getting into Tess’s face. “Remember, I told you, I’m not looking to get laid.” He shrugged and grinned. “At least, not yet. I’m looking for a nice girl.”

“Oh, nice, okay,” Tess said, winking conspiratorially. “Shh.”

“Shhhhh,” Alex repeated, nodding his head, his drooping eyes turning back to the dance floor.

Maria didn’t even bother to wonder why they were shushing each other. Alex and Tess had a rather unique dynamic in their friendship, and half the time it was like they were speaking their own language. She couldn’t fault them for that; the same could be said about her relationship with Michael.

“What about her?” Alex asked, pointing to a brunette with short hair standing alone on the fringe of the dance floor.

Tess assessed the girl for a moment before shrugging. “Well, she seriously needs to rethink those boots, but I say go for it, Tiger.”

“Is that such a wise idea?” Maria asked delicately, taking Alex’s less-than-sober condition into consideration.

“Don’t worry,” Alex said, rising to his feet. “I’ve got a fool-proof plan from the master.”

Maria looked to Tess as he walked away. “The master?”

“He was begging Michael for some tips on how to be a stud when you were gone.”

Maria shook her head. “Oh, wonderful,” she murmured dryly.

Tess then practically hopped out of her seat, causing Maria to start. “Speaking of being gone…just who was that I saw you going upstairs with, little lady?”

“Just another creep who thought I was an easy lay,” Maria said, not wanting to go into the details.

Tess instantly looked concerned. “Oh, god, Maria…are you okay?”

She tossed up her hands. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little stupid, is all.”

Tess nodded, looking relieved. After another second, a slightly devious grin came over her face. “And is he okay?”

“Other than bruising his over-inflated ego, I left him perfectly unharmed.”

Tess shook her head, her cloud of blonde curls bouncing around her face. “No, I’m not talking about you. I meant Michael.”

Maria tilted her head in confusion. “What does Michael have to do with any of this?”

“Duh, he went up there to check on you.” She paused, gauging Maria’s obvious surprise. “You mean, you didn’t see him?”

“No. How long ago was this?”

Tess shrugged. “I don’t know. Five minutes ago?”

Maria frowned, trying to figure out how she didn’t know he was up there. Maybe he hadn’t been able to find them, since they were in the back room. But no…this was Michael they were talking about. If he had been worried about her, he would have scoured the entire upstairs and down until he found her. She worried her lip, wondering if he had seen her making out with Billy and decided she was okay…or, oh god, what if he had witnessed that little exchange between she and Billy, and had been hiding in the shadows when she’d been outside the room, waiting for her to leave?

“Where is he?” she asked Tess sharply, turning her entire body to face her. “Did you see him come down?”

Tess’s eyes widened marginally as she shook her head. “Nooo…I thought he came down with you.”

“Damn!” Maria swore, jumping to her feet and dashing to the staircase. She ran up the steps and almost knocked a couple down at the landing. “Sorry,” she said hastily, not waiting for their responses.

Her stomach sank when she saw the yellow light of the office completely illuminating the hallway. She had closed that door, and wasn’t going to hedge her bets that Billy had just forgotten to close it on his way out.

Her worries were confirmed when she entered the room, just in time to see Michael slamming Billy up against the wall.

“Michael! Stop it!” she cried. As repulsed as she was by Billy, she was partly responsible for what had transpired between them, and she didn’t want to also be responsible for his broken face.

Michael ignored her, pulling Billy back and slamming him back up against the wall again. “You picked the wrong girl to fuck with, Darden,” he growled in a low voice.

“Fuck you, Guerin,” Billy spat. “The fucking tease knew what she was doing when she came up here.” He suddenly raised his arms, going for Michael’s throat. Michael used his forearms to deflect the attack, and then landed an elbow in Billy’s gut.

“Stop it!” Maria cried, rushing forward to grab Michael. Michael relented to her persistent yanks on his arm, but didn’t, for one second, take his eyes off of Billy, who was now doubled over.

“Come on,” Maria urged, pulling him back farther. “He’s down. Let’s just go.”

“No,” Michael said, glancing at her. “Not until this piece of shit apologizes to you.”

“No, Michael, he doesn’t need to apologize. It wasn’t all his fault.”

“Bullshit!”

Maria suddenly wanted to slap some sense in Michael. She hated when he got like this. Whenever Michael was upset, reason seemed to fly out the window, and he was all about action. “Please, Michael, listen to me. It’s done. Just walk away. Please.”

Michael finally looked down at her, taking in the pleading look on her face. Finally, he released his pent-up breath and nodded. “Fine.”

Billy stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s right, Guerin. Listen to that little slut, and walk away.”

Michael lurched forward again, but Maria pushed him back. “No, Michael,” she said firmly, and then turned around. “This one’s mine.”

Billy snorted. “Yeah, right, what are you—?” His words were cut off when something snapped within Maria and she punched him square in the face. “Shit!” he clutched his nose, blood running between his fingers, and a sudden nasal quality to his voice. “Fucking bitch!”

Maria stared at Billy, and then down at her hand in complete shock. She couldn’t believe she had just done that. She had never hit anyone before in her life. Backing away, she clutched Michael’s arm again. “Come on,” she said shakily. “I think we’re done here.”

Michael stared back at Billy for a moment, his face mirroring Maria’s own shock, before he followed her.

As soon as they were out the door, she grabbed her fist, her face twisting in pain. “Ooowwwwww!”

Michael stared down at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, experimentally moving her fingers, “just bruised a couple of knuckles, I think.”

Assured that she would be fine, he then placed his hands on his hips. “What the hell were you thinking, coming upstairs with that jerk, anyway?”

Not wanting to answer that – she already knew it had been a stupid move, but was too stubborn to admit it to Michael – she turned the tables on him. “And what were you doing following me? I’m not a little girl.”

He tossed up his hands. “Well, excuse me for caring.”

Maria sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his concern for her. It just bothered her that he didn’t seem to trust her to be able to handle herself. “Look, Michael, I appreciate it. I do. But, as you can see, I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” he said with a snort, glancing down at her hand.

She smiled, and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Even so,” she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, “Thanks.”

She started to pull back, but paused when Michael seemed to move forward with her. His warm arms had slipped around her back, and suddenly he was peering down at her intently. Her pulse skittered alarmingly as his head seemed to lower fractionally, and for the briefest moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Really kiss her.

She dismissed it as a totally ridiculous thought – this was Michael after all – when he pulled her in for a big bear hug, picking her up so that her toes barely swept the ground. “You know me,” he said, teasing laughter in his voice, “Gotta look out for my girl.” When he pulled back, he was all smiles. He moved to her side and swung an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Slugger, let’s go get you some ice.”

-----

TBC***

[Fehrbaby]

Sorry, sorry, sorry this took so long. I’ve worked on this every day for the last week, and I’m still not satisfied with it, but it’s about as good as I think I’m going to get it.

Part 5c

“What happened to you?”

Maria smirked as she took her seat, gently cradling her swollen hand to her chest. “Billy - the guy I told you about - had his nose a little too high in the air, so I decided to take it down a few notches.”

Tess tilted her head to the side in bafflement. “Are you saying you hit him?”

“Well, if you want to put it that way…yeah, pretty much.”

“More like she cold-cocked the bastard,” Michael expounded as he appeared at the table. In his hand was what looked like a torn off scrap of a Hefty bag that he had fashioned into an ice pack. “Okay, Rocky, lets see that hand.”

Extending her fingers, she held out her hand for his inspection. “Would that be Balboa or Marciano?” she joked, watching his face closely for any change in his usual mannerisms. Okay, she knew it was stupid, but she was still weirded-out by that moment of uncertainty upstairs. Who could blame her? The mere idea of them really kissing was just…surreal.

“Your choice; they both hit,” he pointed out, just as normal as ever, placing her hand flat on the table and laying the bag directly over it. “Okay, keep that on for at least fifteen minutes. It should stop it from swelling too much.”

“Thank you, Michael,” she sang, grateful for his help.

He winked and clicked his tongue. “Anytime.” He then pointed in the direction of the keg. “You want another drink?”

She hesitated for a moment, wary of drinking any more if it meant she would make boneheaded judgment calls…or it would cause her to suffer delusions. Oh, screw it. “Yes, please,” she said, batting her eyelashes in a comedic fashion. Now that any and all confusion was cleared up, she was eager to resume thinking of him as she always had – like an overprotective brother-type, who tended to butt into her business because he cared.

“Okay,” Tess pounced as soon as Michael was out of ear shot, “what exactly happened upstairs?”

Maria’s eyes snapped away from Michael’s retreating figure in shock. “Nothing,” she gasped, wondering how Tess knew. Sure, Tess had always been rather astute, but was she seeing some outward signs that Maria hadn’t? Was she acting differently than usual?

Tess looked taken back by her reaction. “You punched someone. That’s not ‘nothing.’”

Relieved laughter fell from Maria’s lips. “Oh, that.”

“Well, yeah. Why, did something else happen upstairs?”

“Nope. Nothing out of the usual. Everything is as it always was.” Yeah, that sounded convincing. Time to change the subject before Tess starts sniffing around like a bloodhound. “Oh! Valentine’s Day next weekend. Any prospects?”

-----

Michael reached for a clear Dixie cup, and began to fill it with the noxious brew pumped out of the keg. His nostrils flared in disgust. He detested the smell. It prompted too many memories of life growing up with an alcoholic stepfather; many of which he’d prefer never to think on again. Normally he wouldn’t have even offered to get Maria a drink, but he had felt the need to escape for a second to collect his thoughts, and knowing the beer might dull the pain in his best friend’s hand made getting a beer sound like a valid reason to leave.

Emphasis on <b>best friend</b>, he thought. The best friend you almost just kissed.

He shifted his stance, unable to decide what was disturbing him more: that he almost kissed her, or that he couldn’t help wondering how Maria would have responded if he had?

He shook his head, trying to shake off that thought, and consider why it had happened? What had prompted his sudden impulse to wrap his arms around his best friend and kiss the breath from her?

Thinking about it logically, he came up with several possibilities.

Maybe…well, maybe it was seeing her making out with Billy. He had always felt a little threatened when she get involved with someone new. That was partly because of a deep-seated fear he had that she would no longer need him in her life, as ridiculous as he knew that was. He had more faith in her than that, but that didn’t make that fear go away. So, maybe he had wanted to kiss her because he was relieved to know Billy wasn’t going to take her away from him.

Or maybe it was discovering a side of Maria he hadn’t known existed. He couldn’t deny watching her crack that Elvis-wannabe’s nose had been, not only a shock, but a bit of a turn on. Seeing an aggressive side of her personality had made him look at her a little differently; more as a capable independent woman, than the girl with skinned knees, who had needed someone to look out for her when they were kids.

Or, just maybe, it was because you liked the way her lips felt on yours.

He jaw ticked, rebelling against that thought. And maybe I should stop analyzing it so damn much, and toss it off as one of those freaky whims that sometimes crosses a person’s mind, he decided, getting irritated with himself.

This was just stupid. Why was he freaking? Maria didn’t seem to be freaking out about it – if she had even noticed - so why should he? He hadn’t detected any awkwardness between them after his quick save, so it was just as well he move on, and pretend it never happened.

Resolved to do just that, he dropped the tap and turned around, to find the blonde he’d been trading glances with before the whole fiasco upstairs standing in front of him.

She gave him a coy smile. “Hi. You’re Michael Guerin, right?”

He gave her a quick head-to-toe scan, and instantly decided that this was just what he needed right now. Leggy, slender, and superficially beautiful, she was the kind of girl who could provide him with a much-desired distraction. That was, to help him repress and deny what could only have been a temporary bout of insanity.

He felt his face ease into a flirtatious smirk. “That’s right. And who would you be?”

-----

Maria smiled and shook her head as she listened to Tess conclude her rambling about three separate guys who had asked her out, and why they didn’t make the cut. “You know, for someone who complains about never having a date, you sure do get a lot of offers.”

“Hey, I’m particular,” Tess protested. “I mean, why should I go out with someone I know is not my type? I’m not that desperate for a date.”

“Point conceded. Okay, what is your type, then?”

“Well…” she trailed off, her brow heavily wrinkling in concentration, as brows were prone to do when one was drunk and having a hard time focusing. “Good-looking, confident, sexy, and intelligent, of course.”

“Of course,” Maria repeated, a bit facetiously, but Tess didn’t seem to notice.

She was just getting warmed up. “He has to have good grooming habits. A job, or at least be working towards getting one. Worldly is nice, but not necessary. Maturity is a must. Sensitive. He has to have a sense of humor, and has to be able to carry on a conversation. A listener, you know? He has to treat me well. Oh, and he has to be a good kisser.”

“Is that it?” Maria asked, amused. She was a little too jaded in her opinion of the opposite sex to believe one single man possessed all of these qualities. Thinking about it, though, she supposed Tess’s list wasn’t too impossible. She wanted many of the same things in a man, but she knew better than to overlook anyone because they didn’t fit the bill in every aspect.

“Like I said, I’m particular.”

Maria took the last sip of the beer she had left at the table before going upstairs and glanced down at the table, smirking. “And how does Michael fit into all this?” She had to ask; she couldn’t help herself.

Tess rolled her eyes. “Maria, I’ve told you a thousand times, I do not like Michael.”

“No, you just blush every time he talks to you,” she retorted. “Why is that?” They’d had this conversation before, with Tess denying that she had any feelings for Michael, and then refusing to tell Maria why she flamed bright red whenever Michael addressed her. She had never asked her when Tess was drunk before, though, so she decided to give it a chance.

Tess let out a put-upon sigh. “You’re not going to leave me alone about this, are you?”

“Nope,” Maria answered brightly.

Considering it for a moment, Tess finally turned her entire body to face her. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but this doesn’t leave the table.”

Jackpot. “Okay.”

“Promise,” Tess demanded.

Rolling her eyes, Maria held up her hand. “Okay, I promise.”

Tess gave a long sigh. “Michael is my ‘get there’ guy,” she confessed quietly, giving Maria a meaningful stare that Maria couldn’t interpret.

“You’re what?”

Tess buried her head in her hands and took a long breath. “This is so embarrassing,” she murmured. When she looked up, her face was a cute shade of red. “Okay,” she inhaled deeply. “You know that point when you’re about to have an…orgasm, and you’re so close, but you need that one last thing that flashes in your mind to push you right over the edge?”

Maria nodded, starting to see where this was going.

“Well, for quite a while now, it’s been Michael.”

Maria continued to nod, only because she really didn’t know how to reply to that. Tess seemed to be waiting for her to say something, though. “Uh, why is that?”

“Mostly, it’s his hands.”

“His hands,” Maria repeated.

Tess nodded eagerly. “Usually, when he flashes into my mind, it’s the image of his hands on my body that really does it for me. He has really beautiful hands.”

Maria frowned. “Huh. I’ve never really noticed before.”

“Oh, come on,” Tess said in disbelief. “I know you guys are just friends, but you’re not blind. You can’t tell me that you’ve never noticed how sexy his hands are? Or just how sexy he is in general? I mean, his body, his smile, his intense eyes…”

Goosebumps suddenly raced over her flesh and she shivered, remembering the look he had given her upstairs, right before she thought he was going to kiss her. “Not really,” she said, downing her drink.

“Then I stand corrected - you are blind.”

“Why is she blind?”

Both girls turned around to find Michael standing behind them. Tess instantly looked away, while Maria gave him a bright smile. “No reason.”

He looked between them a few times, then shrugged. “If you say so. Well, here your beer. I’ll catch up with you girls later.”

Maria blinked as Michael unceremoniously placed the beer in front of her. “Hey, where are you running off to?”

Michael began to walk backwards. “Duty calls,” he said with a smirk and lift of his brows.

Feeling a flash of irritation, she turned to Tess. “Translation: he’s found his bimbo du jour.” They shared a simultaneous eye-roll, and watched as he approached a blonde leaning against a pillar, wearing a pink tube top that barely covered her nipples and a ruffled mini skirt. “Told you.”

“Desiree Newkirk,” Tess provided, making a face. “She’s in my pilates class at the rec center.”

“Total bimbo?”

“More like total nasty skank,” she corrected. “She likes to brag to her friends about her sexual exploits in the changing room. Get this: A few weeks back I overheard her talking about a guy she had sex with the night before. She said – and I quote – ‘I was never going to, like, get there, so I finally told him to just pull it out and come on my face or tits.’” Tess shook her head. “Is that not just dirty?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty filthy,” Maria chortled.

“What’s filthy?”

Tess and Maria both looked up to see Liz standing by the table. “Liz! Hey!”

“You actually came,” Maria said, motioning for her to sit down.

“Well, we weren’t going to, but we were at Sullivans with some friends, and they all wanted to come here.” Sullivans was a local watering hole, most frequented by yuppies and Young Republicans. Just the kind of place one would imagine someone like Paul going to. “So, what’s filthy?”

Knowing how Liz would react to hearing what Tess had told her about Desiree, she shook her head. “You really don’t want to know.”

Liz shrugged. “Okay.”

“So,” Maria began, thinking they needed a subject change, “Did you find out about the elections?”

Liz’s smile brightened. “Yeah, Dr. Feldman called earlier today. I won.”

“Congratulations!” Maria cried. “Though I never had any doubts.”

“Congratulations, Madam V.P.” Tess echoed, raising her half-empty glass in salute.

Maria reached for the beer Michael had placed in front of her, ready to salute too, but frowned when she looked into it. The top three inches was pure foam. “Nice. Did he really expect me to drink from this?”

“Just use a little nose grease,” Tess advised, slouching even farther in her chair.

Maria’s eyes darted to the side. “I’m sorry?”

“Rub the side of your nose, then put your finger in the beer, and voila; bye-bye foam.”

“That sounds a little gross,” Maria replied, seeing Liz nod in agreement.

Tess tossed her hand. “Oh, don’t be a priss. It works, trust me.”

That was the pot calling the kettle black, Maria thought with a snort.

“Fine, drink foam then,” Tess said when she still didn’t do it. “See if I care.”

Staring at her uncertainly for a second, Maria followed Tess’s instructions, amazed when the foam instantly started to shrink in fear from her finger. Huh. “Where do you learn these things?”

“Alex. He’s a self-proclaimed wealth of useless information.”

“It’s not useless if it helps,” Liz pointed out.

Tess shrugged. “Good point.”

Maria sat up, remembering the events before she dashed upstairs again. “Hey, speaking of Alex…what happened with that girl?”

“What girl?” Liz asked, looking interested.

Maria filled her in.

Tess inclined in head in the direction of the dance floor. “They’re still talking, so that’s a good sign.”

“Aww, good for him.” Maria clapped her good hand on the table after locating Alex for herself. It looked promising. The slight brunette seemed to be completely engrossed in what he was saying.

“Well, let’s just hope he doesn’t ask her to dance to a fast song. Because that could be…whoo.” She grimaced.

Maria and Liz shared a smile. Alex tended to dance with his whole body, jerking and spinning around like one of those little drumming monkeys.

“I’ll get the entire scoop tomorrow.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Maria murmured. She glanced at her watch, noticing it was nearing midnight. She was getting tired, and wanted to go soon.

“My tummy is rumbling,” Tess suddenly announced, rubbing her stomach. “Is anyone else hungry?”

Maria shrugged. “A little, but it’s not like we’re in any shape to drive, and our D.D. has abandoned us for big boobs and a bleach job,” she grumbled.

“Who’s car did you come in?” Liz asked. Tess raised her hand. “Then I could drive you. I’m getting a little tired anyway.”

“Will Paul mind?” Maria asked, knowing that he was around her somewhere.

“No. Just let me go tell him,” she said, rising from the table.

“Doesn’t she mean, ask him?” Tess commented when she was gone.

Smirking, Maria gave a big yawn and stood. “Hmm, guess we should probably tell the guys we’re leaving?”

Tess frowned. “Do you think we should interrupt them? I mean, I don’t want to ruin Alex’s chances.”

“Yeah, but he’d be hurt if you left without telling him.”

“True, true.” She grinned. “That leaves you on Michael detail.”

“Yay me,” Maria sighed grumpily. She really hated talking to Michael when he was charming with one of his skags, though Michael had no such reservations when the situation was reversed. An idea suddenly occurred to her. Payback time. “Hey, let me see your purse.”

Tess looked confused, but handed it over. “What do you need?”

Not answering, Maria rifled inside for the make-up bag she knew Tess didn’t leave the house without. Opening it up, she found what she was looking for and pocketed it. “I’ll pay you back,” she promised, returning the purse.

She set off to find Michael. They were no longer standing against the pillar where they had been before, so it took a few minutes to track him down. Desiree was standing against the wall, and Michael was with his hand perched over her shoulder, whispering something in her ear. Striding forward, she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, we’re ready to leave.”

Giving Desiree the one-minute signal, he turned to face her. “Already?”

“You need me to drive you home?”

Maria smirked in self-satisfaction when she saw Desiree give her a narrow-eyed glare. “No, you can stay…if you want.” Her tone indicated that she didn’t know why he would want to. “Liz offered to drive Tess’s car.”

He smiled sardonically. “You mean that Miss. Goody-Two-Shoes actually showed up? What would Paul think?”

“He’s here, too.”

“At an illegal party? I’m shocked.”

Maria punched him in the arm. “Grow up!”

He grinned and gave her a quick hug. “Call me tomorrow?”

She leaned up and pecked his cheek, steering way clear of his lips. “Of course.”

She walked about five steps, and then turned back. “Hey, Michael. Think fast!” she warned, tossing the Fire Engine Red nail polish she’d taken from Tess’s purse at him.

Michael caught the small bottle and stared down at it in bafflement.

She smirked meanly. Perhaps it was immature, but she was feeling a little irritated and mean-spirited, and the thought of emasculating him in front of his…bimbo was very appealing. Payback, and all that, for all the times he’d embarrassed her in front of guys she was dating. “I just thought you might want to start practicing.”

He looked unimpressed at the reminder of the outcome of last night’s bet – a bet he had very easily lost, and pouted about for the rest of the show. “Real cute.”

She winked and blew him a kiss. “I try.”

TBC***

As a side note, can you believe that quote I gave Desiree is one that my boyfriend has actually heard a customer in his bar say? When her friends asked her why she even bothered, she said - "Come on, he's owns a B.M.W." And you wonder why I make fun of sorority girls

[Fehrbaby]

Very short update today, but I was at my boyfriend's house this weekend, getting ready for our scuba trip to the Sea of Cortez next weekend. I'll get more out before I leave on Thursday, I promise - with Michael included.

Anyway, thanks for your patients and all the feedback! I see that I have some new readers who have joined the fun. Welcome.

Look for more soon!

Part 6a

A sharp tug of Maria’s hair caused her to rouse the following morning. Determined to ignore it, she batted at her hair and turned her head the other way, only to be rewarded by a soft thwap in the middle of her forehead. “Go away,” she mumbled, pulling Grandma DeLuca’s patchwork quilt over her head. The problem was, the quilt wasn’t quite long enough, so in pulling it up, she had left her toes exposed, and within two seconds she felt a moist, sandpaper tongue licking the ticklish undersides of her feet.

Pandora’s message was loud and clear: I’m going to keep tormenting you until you feed me.

Dry-sobbing in frustration, Maria rolled onto her back and lifted her head to glare at the relentless feline at the foot of the bed. “You can be a real pain sometimes, you know that?”

In response, Pandora let out a rumbling purr and hopped off the bed. She padded towards the bathroom, turning back at the door to make sure Maria was going to follow.

“Yeah, yeah, I got the memo,” Maria sighed, forcing herself into a sitting position and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

She clenched her eyes shut as her head issued a protest at the sudden action. When the worst of the pain had ebbed, she rose to her feet and shuffled forward. “No, mom, I don’t care if you feel like you’ve been run over by a Mack truck, as long as I get my stinking breakfast,” she grumbled. Not that she really could blame Pandora for wanting to be fed. After all, what did cats know about weekends or aches and pains associated with hangovers?

Kneeling by the sink, she pulled out the bag of dry food from the cabinet and poured it into Pandora’s ceramic bowl, and then filled the adjacent bowl with water. A tiny lapping sound filled the bathroom as Maria put the water away and grabbed for her bottle of Tylenol and palmed two of the pills.

Her eyes were barely opened when she tip-toed her way into the kitchen. Tess was lying in a tangled lump of limbs and blanket on their sofa. They had all decided the night before that it would be more practical to have her stay the night than to have Liz drive her home.

Yawning widely, she reached above the sink for a glass, and then went to the refrigerator to fill it with water from the two-gallon jug in the fridge. She popped the Tylenol she had brought with her from the bathroom into her mouth and then downed half the glass, hoping the pills kicked in soon. Feeling a little more awake, she realized she wasn’t hung-over, per se, but she did have a headache and was feeling dehydrated. Not to mention her right hand was throbbing like a bitch.

Looking down at her swollen knuckles, her mind turned to the night before. Everything looked so different in the harsh light of morning, Instead of feeling satisfied with her behavior, she now just felt ashamed. She should have known better than to make out with someone she hardly knew, and why had she let her temper get the better of her? People called her names all the time, and she never let it bother her. And what about that little sophomoric stunt she had pulled with Michael before they left? That had been totally…totally priceless, she decided with a little snigger.

Topping her glass off, she very quietly picked walked into the living room to retrieve her copy of Cosmo from the coffee table. It was one of the only magazines she read religiously, and she got lots of ideas and information to use on her show from it. Bringing it back to the kitchen, she sat down at the table and began thumbing through it, dog-earing several pages that she wanted to go back and take notes on later.

She had just begun reading the reader’s “Confessions” page when Liz came into the front door. “Morning,” Liz said brightly.

Maria’s finger flew to her lips in a shushing gesture, and she pointed in the direction of the couch.

“Oops, sorry,” she whispered, placing the several bags she came in with onto the kitchen counter.

“It’s okay. We should just keep it down.” Closing the magazine, she crossed her legs beneath her and leaned down to pick up Pandora, who was now purring contentedly at her feet. She stroked the cat’s fur with a smile, then looked up at Liz. “When did you get up?”

“About seven,” Liz replied. She then grinned and leaned closer. “Tess’s snoring woke me up.”

They both giggled at that. Though she was quite now, she was known for sawing major logs in her sleep. “Shh,” Maria warned, remembering they were supposed to be quiet, but they only giggled louder when they heard Tess’s sleep-chocked voice issue the protest of “I do not snore!”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, Tess. If you say so.”

“Ugh,” Tess groaned, sitting up and rubbing her face. “What time is it?”

Liz glanced at the microwave display. “A quarter to ten.”

Tess groaned again, and raked her hands through her disheveled curls. “I feel terrible.”

“That’s bound to happen when you drink half your body mass in cheap beer,” Maria teased, placing Pandora on the floor and getting up to get her some water. “Want some Tylenol?”

“I’ll pay you a million bucks.”

“A ‘thank you’ will suffice.” Maria ducked into her bedroom and came back with the entire bottle. “Two or three?”

“How about a hundred?”

Chuckling, Maria shook three of the pills into Tess’s waiting hand and recapped the bottle.

“I figured you two wouldn’t be feeling too hot, so I picked you up some breakfast,” Liz announced, bringing a paper bag from Bristol’s Bagels into the living room. “Bacon, egg, and cheese bagels sound okay?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Maria said, her stomach already rumbling at the smell. “That’s so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

Liz smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

“Yeah, thank you, that’s really sweet,” Tess began, “but just the thought of food makes me kinda queasy. Plus, I think those taquitos gave me heartburn.” After leaving the party, they had gone through the drive through at Nico’s Mexican Café, the only restaurant open past ten in town, and she and Maria had gorged themselves on the rolled tacos.

“Even so,” Liz argued, “you should still eat. The grease will coat your stomach and make you feel better.”

“She has a point,” Maria told her, unwrapping the bagel and biting into it.

Still, Tess wasn’t persuaded. “In a little bit, maybe.”

Liz shrugged. “No problem, I’ll just put it in the refrigerator.” She went back to work on the bags at the counter.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Maria asked Liz, taking a seat on the free end of the couch.

“Oh, I already did. I had to get some flyers and posters printed at Kinko’s, so I dropped those off and ate while I was waiting.” She pulled a box out of one of the bags and took out one of the flyers. “What do you think of this?” she asked Maria, handing it to her.

Tess scooched closer to take a look. The flyer was to announce the Student Senate interviews, which would be taking place the following Friday. “You’re working on this already?” Maria asked in surprise. She knew Liz liked to get an early start on things, but less than twenty-four hours after finding out she had been elected? That was impressive, even for Liz.

“Well, I had some free time this morning, and I’ll be busy the rest of the week, so I decided to get it done now.”

Reading farther down the paper, she noted something even more shocking. “You’re doing open interviews?”

“Yes,” she said, not elaborating.

Maria and Tess traded amused smirks. Tess cleared her throat. “Isn’t that what Max Evans suggested?” she asked innocently. Last Wednesday night, after the speeches, they had spent some time on the phone speculating over the implications of Liz’s reaction to Max Evans. In the end, they had decided that if Max Evans could get that far under her skin, there had to be some underlying feelings involved.

They both noticed a slight tick in Liz’s jaw at the mention of her rival. “It is.”

“I have to say I’m surprised,” Maria said casually. “I mean, I thought you would have done it the way you originally planned, just to spite him?”

“Look,” Liz said tightly, “I’ve thought a lot about what he said and decided I really didn’t have any other choice. As bewildering as it is, Max Evans is well-liked and respected by many students on campus, and people are influenced by what he says. He challenged me in front of half the school, implying that I don’t trust a majority of the student body to be able to decide what is best for the school community. If I don’t do it his way, the students will begin to think he is right, and will never respect me as a leader, and I have worked too hard establishing my credibility on this campus to have that happen!” Suddenly, as if just now realizing how loud her voice had gotten, she smoothed down her hair and cleared her throat. “So, that’s why I’ve decided to do the open interviews, okay?” she said perfectly calm.

Maria and Tess, who had both gone still as Liz’s outburst had grown in intensity, nodded their heads. “Okay.”

Liz smiled. “Well, I have to get some more stuff for my car. I’ll be right back.”

When the door closed behind her, Tess whistled. “Damn. I don’t ever think I’ve seen her like that.”

“Me, neither.”

It wasn’t until their eyes met, and Maria saw Tess’s lips quivering that they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“If that’s not sexual tension,” Tess gasped for breath, “then I’ll eat every pair of shoes I own.”

-----

Maria was putting on a pair of shoes when she heard a soft knock on her open bedroom door. “Hey, Maria—oh, are you getting ready to go somewhere?”

“Yeah, monthly staff meeting at the station,” Maria told Liz. She had actually forgotten all about the staff meeting, until a half hour ago when Tess had reminded her, right before she left. “Why? Did you need something?”

Liz took a step back. “Well, if you’re busy…”

“I don’t have to leave for another ten minutes.” She sat down on her bed and patted the space across from her. “Come on. Sit.”

With a tiny smile, Liz entered the room, stepping over a pile of clothes and books as she made a path to the bed. Maria noted the look of disapproval in her friend’s eyes at the way she kept her room – constantly cluttered, with clothes strewn all over the place – but Liz wisely didn’t make any remarks about it. They had decided long ago that as long as Maria kept up her end of keeping their shared living quarters clean and organized, that she was free to do whatever she wanted in her own room.

“So, what’s up?”

Liz took a seat on the bed and inhaled deeply. “Well, I have a question…or more like a favor…or actually, a little bit of both.”

“Okay,” Maria said slowly, wondering at Liz’s apparent nervousness.

“Well, I was wondering if you had plans for next Friday night?”

“Valentines day? No, not yet. Why?”

“Well, Paul and I have this friend, Gary, who just transferred here this semester,” she continued in a rush when she saw Maria began to shake her head, “and he’s really nice and good looking, and you know that I would never ask, but you’re always saying you can’t meet any nice guys, and I think you would get along really well, so I was thinking that maybe you’d wanna go out with him. So what do you think?”

“I appreciate the offer, Liz, but I don’t think so. In fact, I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell you, yet, but I met someone a few days ago, and I’m kind of hoping he’d like the honors.”

“Oh,” Liz said with a smile, clearly trying to hide her disappointment. “Good for you. What’s his name?”

“Kyle Valenti.”

Liz’s brows rose. “The sheriff’s son?”

Maria was surprised by recognition in her voice. No one else - herself included - had even known he had a son. “You know him?”

“I used to. Our mothers were friends before his parents divorced, and we played together as toddlers. Is he living in Roswell now?”

“Yeah, he just moved here.”

“That’s interesting. Last I heard, he was playing football for USC. I wonder what happened?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Maria answered honestly. Of course, she hadn’t even known he had attended USC, or even played football for that matter. She wasn’t sure how she felt about. Most football players she had met before were jerks with over-inflated egos. Thinking back, though, Kyle hadn’t seemed like that at all. In fact, he’d been charming and funny and sweet, even. She decided she’d be a fool if she held that against him.

“Oh, well,” Liz smiled and rose from her bed. “Good luck with that, anyway.” She walked to the door, and then turned back. “But, hey, if it doesn’t work out, would you do me a favor and keep Gary in mind? I think you two would really hit it off.”

Maria smiled politely. “Sure.” As soon as Liz was out of the room, she rolled her eyes. A blind date with one of Paul’s friends? I don’t think so.

TBC***

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