Part 112
Posted: Wed Sep 24, 2008 12:40 pm
nibbles: 
So do I! Tess is a ditz, but she actually has some wisdom.
killjoy: I had a feeling you would like Tess's role in the last part.
And yes, Michael is a mean drunk for sure!
Sara:
Alien_Friend:
art_junkie: A new reader? Yea! Thank you for the feedback. I'm glad you have enjoyed my portrayal of Michael and Maria, because I know they're not the most likeably sometimes.
Krista:
He and Maria should just not drink. It never goes well when they do.
spacegirl23:
starcrazed:
CandyLand:
tequathisy:
Christina: You must be psychic! You predicted it! I know, flatworms, right? Sounds so boring. But I actually watched a flatworm documentary years and years ago, back when I was still in middle school, I believe, and it was awesome! I haven't forgotten it since! lol
lilah:
Thanks for the feedback, you guys, and thanks for the congrats on nominations. (Thanks for nominating me in the first place!) Congrats to any of my readers who also have fics nominated!
Part 112
When Liz walked into the apartment that night, she felt really good for the first time in a long time. Not the faux kind of good she had felt while dating Michael, but the real kind of good. The hopeful kind, the optimistic kind, the energetic kind.
“Hey, Max,” she said as she practically skipped into the kitchen. “Something smells good. Are you making dinner?”
“Yep,” he replied. “I bought one of those stupid George Foreman grills today, thought I’d make some burgers.”
“That’s nice of you.” She sat down at their kitchen counter and watched as he flipped both of the burgers over to brown the other sides.
“You want cheese on yours?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
He cast a glance back at her and remarked, “You’re in an awfully good mood. I take it dancing went well?”
“Very well. So well, in fact, that I got a new dance choreographed.”
“Really? All by yourself?”
“No, not by myself,” she admitted. “Actually, I got a lot of help . . . from Maria.”
“Maria?” Max echoed in question as he laid a slice of cheese down atop Liz’s burger.
“Yeah, it’s strange, but I feel like she and I are gonna be better friends now than we were before. Even after everything that happened . . . her and Michael, you and me . . . I think we’ve both made some positive changes lately, and, I don’t know, hopefully we’ll keep doing that.”
Max smiled and remarked, “You sound like a motivational speaker.”
“Shut up, I do not!”
“Yes, you do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I do. But I can’t help it. I’m just feeling good right now. New dance, new beginning of a new friendship with Maria . . .” She smiled and added, “New roommate.”
“New roommate who grills burgers.”
She laughed. Oh, you’re so endearing, Max. Although Michael had qualities that Max didn’t have, Max had qualities that Michael didn’t have, as well. She was glad she had finally realized that.
“So is the dance good?” Max asked.
“Oh, it’s the best. Wait ‘til you see it, Max. It’s gonna, like, knock your socks off.”
He glanced down at his bare feet and gave her a look.
“Well, it’ll knock your socks off anyway,” she assured him. “Granted, I still look a little awkward doing it, but Maria promised I’d get better.”
“What kind of dance is it?”
“Oh, like this fast, hard-hitting hip-hop routine, only we’re doing it to a rock song. It’s so cool. I can’t wait to teach the other girls.” She realized what she’d said only right after she’d said it and quickly amended, “No, on second thought, actually I can. They’re gonna complain because it’s really hard, but I’m gonna be captain-ly and tell them we’re not taking the easy way out anymore.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Max agreed.
“Oh, you know what else, Max? Maria taught me how to do a triple turn.”
“A triple?” He gave her a confused look. “I don’t even know what a double is.”
“Well, double’s heard enough, spinning around twice. But the triple . . . here, let me show you.” She stood up again, very excited, and spun around on the tile floor of the kitchen. She knew it wasn’t a good turn, though. She hadn’t found a good center of balance, and the tile wasn’t like the gym floor. She slipped and shrieked as she fell, but she didn’t hit the ground, because Max lunged forward and caught her.
“Oh, thanks,” she said. “Lost my balance on that one.” She stared up into his eyes, realizing that this was the first time his hands had been on her body since the locker room hook-up. The knowledge sent pleasurable shivers up her spine.
Max set her back down on her own two feet and replied, “It looked good.”
“Yeah, right. I fell out of it.”
“Give yourself some credit. It can’t be easy.” He smiled at her again.
Oh, Max, she thought, I think I’m really going to like living with you.
“As opposed to making burgers, which is very easy,” he said as he used a spatula to lift one patty off the George Foreman grill and set it down atop a hamburger bun. He handed the plate to her and gestured toward the counter. “Ketchup, mustard, pickles, onions . . . anything you want right there.”
“Thanks,” she said as she placed the second bun atop the beef patty. “But I think I’ll just eat this plain cheeseburger.” She was feeling sort of . . . cheesy, so to speak. The whole moment she and Max had just shared, her falling and him catching her, was about as cheesy as it got, but it had been so nice.
Max prepared his burger and sat down beside her at the counter. He took a bite out of his and nodded his head in approval. “Not bad, right?”
“Chef Max,” she teased as she took a bite out of her cheeseburger. “Mmm, no. Not bad at all.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dancing had worn Maria out, so when she fell asleep that night, she fell fast and hard. Dreams came instantly.
The letter. The big letter. The one that had a lot to do with her future, not that she gave her future much thought. Maria held it in her hands, staring down at the address in the top left-hand corner. University of Santa Fe New Mexico. Administration Building. Holy shit.
Why am I just standing here? she wondered. Letters were meant to be opened. She tore open the envelope flap, careful not to tear the inside contents, pulled out the letter, and eagerly unfolded it. All she had to do was read the first line to find out that she had gotten in, that she was going to college after all. A smile lit up her face, and bounced up and down excitedly, squealing. “Oh, yes!” She laughed and tore downstairs with the letter and envelope in her hand.
“Guess what, Mom?” she exclaimed. “I got into college! A real one!”
Amy looked both shocked and thrilled. “What? Oh, that’s great.”
“Heck yeah,” Maria agreed as she stuffed the letter back into the envelope and slid on a pair of sandals. “Four years of frat parties? Count me in!” She laughed and ran out of the house, noting her mother’s disappointed expression.
There was no question as to where she was going. Where else would she go on a day like this? Who would she tell before him? No one.
She ran all the way to his house, doing a few joyful leaps and jumps on the way. College was going to be awesome. She was going to dance and party all the time. No more of this juvenile high school crap. As fun as it had been, she was ready for a change, ready to go on to bigger and better things—and hopefully bigger and better guys. If it was possible, she could be even more popular at the university than at her high school. That was definitely a goal. Be the queen.
She ran up the porch steps to Michael’s house and threw open the rickety door. “Hi, Mr. Guerin!” she chirped to Michael's father, stepping over the trash and empty beer bottles lying discarded on the floor.
“You wanna take off your clothes?” the disgusting, couch-potato man asked her in between drinks.
“Not for you!” she exclaimed in a sing-song voice as she climbed the stairs. She skipped down the hallway to her annoying friend’s bedroom, opened the door, and found him lying asleep in his bed. She giggled and ran forward. “Michael!” she exclaimed as she jumped up on the bed and pounced on him.
“Oh,” he groaned, immediately jolted away. “Crap. Watch the package.”
“What package?” she joked as she sat atop him, straddling his body with her legs.
“Oh, funny.”
“Michael, guess what?”
“You got laid last night?”
“Well . . . yeah. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I got laid, too,” he said, suddenly looking around. “Where’d that girl go? I thought she’d still be here.”
“Michael, it’s like 3:00 in the afternoon,” she informed him. “That’s a little late, even for you. Your fuck buddy’s probably gone.”
“Well, good thing you showed up then,” he joked, grinning mischievously.
“Ew, don’t be disgusting. Come on, seriously, can I tell you why I’m here?”
He rubbed his forehead tiredly and yawned. “Oh, I guess.”
“Good. Look at this.” She proudly held up her acceptance letter.
He squinted his eyes at it and asked, “What the hell’s that?”
“Duh, University of Santa Fe. What do you think it is?”
He smiled. “Did you get in?”
“Hell yeah, I got in! I’m going to college. I’m college bound.”
“Ah, Max and Kyle will be happy to hear that.”
“You should be happy, too,” she said. “Listen to this.” She unfolded the letter, cleared her throat, and read the first part aloud. “‘Dear, Maria. We received your fall application and are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for attendance at the University of Santa Fe in New Mexico during the 2004/2005 academic year.’ God, isn’t that, like, poetry?”
“Pretty poetic.”
“Can you believe it. After all the no’s, I get a yes. I’m so freaking out right now.”
“I can see that.”
“And college, I mean . . . it’s gonna be like one non-stop party. Get drunk, have sex . . . those are two things I’m very good at.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Oh, and I’m gonna try out for the dance team, too, add some sexiness to that.”
“Definite sexiness,” he agreed. “Well, I’m happy for you, Maria. Shocked, but happy.”
“Yeah.” She stuffed the letter back in the envelope and said, “What about you? Have you gotten a letter back yet?”
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“You don’t know? Seriously, Michael.” She leaned over his head and reached over onto his cluttered desk, trying to find a letter from the university.
“Nice,” he remarked, causing her to realize that her breasts were dangling right in his face.
“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, still rummaging through all the papers on his desk. “Oh, here it is. Right here. I can’t believe you haven’t even opened it! You’re stupid!”
“Open it for me,” he suggested.
She sat back up again and made a face. “Why do I have to open it? If you didn’t get in, that means I have to be the bearer of bad news.”
“I got in,” he said confidently. “I got a higher ACT score than you did.”
“Oh, because of dumb luck!”
“Still . . . my grades were better than yours.”
“Uh-uh!”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Yeah-huh?” She grunted. “Whatever. I had extracurriculars.”
“Just dance team.”
“Of which I was an award-winning captain. What do you have? Ooh, president of the sex club.”
“That’s a good idea, the sex club. I should form that. You could be my secretary.”
“Oh my god, you’re obnoxious,” she said as she slid her fingernail under the envelope flap and slowly opened it. “You’re so obnoxious.”
“But can you picture me any other way?”
Reluctantly, she smiled. No, she couldn’t.
“Come on, open it faster,” he said.
“Okay, don’t have a hissy fit.” She tossed the envelope aside, unfolded the letter and read what it had to say. “Oh,” she said. “Wow.”
“What?” There was only a hint of worry in his voice.
She looked him in the eye and told him, “You didn’t get in.”
“What?” Now the worry had evolved into full-blown panic. “But this was my last shot! This was my back-up plan!”
“Looks like your back-up plan just got shot to hell,” she remarked.
He studied her for a moment, wrinkled his forehead in contemplation, then said, “No way, you’re kiddin’ me.”
“I’m not,” she insisted.
“Give me that.” He seized the letter from her, and she smiled as he read it. Eventually, he smiled, too, and said, “I knew I got in. You little bitch.”
“I just had to freak you out,” she said, giggling.
“It didn’t work.”
“Yes, it did. You were freaking.”
“I was freaking?”
“Yeah, you’re a freak.”
“A freak who’s goin’ to college with you. Come here, baby.”
“Michael!” she squealed when she felt his hands on her waist, lifting her off him and setting her down next to him. She lay down beside him, allowing him to toss the covers over her. “What’re you doing?” she asked.
“Goin’ back to sleep,” he replied as he turned to face her.
“Seriously? You don’t wanna celebrate college?”
“I’ll celebrate by sleeping,” he said. “I’m tired. I got laid hardcore last night, alright?”
“Yeah, I can tell. Your sheets are so gross.”
“Are they?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to shower, like, twelve times to even begin to get rid of the grossness.”
“I’ll shower with you,” he offered, grinning that stupid horny grin he was so famous for.
“Uh, no, you won’t. I object.”
“Overruled.”
“Not overruled. Your naked body is coming nowhere close to my naked body. There are just some things I will not do.”
“Well, that’s a relief. But you’re missin’ out. I got a good body.”
“I got a better one.”
“Yeah, but I got a friend down south. His name’s Richard; people call him Dick.”
“Oh my god,” she groaned, halfway exasperated and halfway amused. “Is this really what I’m subjecting myself to for the next four years? Annoyance and dick talk?”
“Well, we gotta talk about my dick. It’s divine.”
“Divine?” she echoed in disgust. “Oh, spare me. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it.”
“You don’t know how you’re gonna do my dick?” he asked. “You just get on it and ride it like a cowgirl, babe.”
“No, not that—I’m not gonna do that.”
“But it’s divine,” he reminded her.
“Ew, gross. No. I was saying I don’t know how I’m gonna do the next four years, like living with you. I might go out of my mind.”
“You’re already out of your mind.”
“But I might really go out of my mind.”
He smiled. “Awesome.”
She rolled her eyes. He was such an unbelievable lunatic.
“It’s gonna be more than four years, though,” he assured her.
“You think?”
“Oh, I know. Even after college, I’ll still be pissin’ you off. It’s gonna be more like forty years. No, four-hundred years.”
“Four- hundred years,” she echoed.
“Of annoyance and dick talk. How’s that sound?”
Horrible, she thought, and kinda nice. “I could think of worse things,” she admitted.
“Damn straight. Let’s go to college, baby.”
“Let’s,” she agreed, excited for the experience. “I have a feeling those are gonna be the best days of our lives.”
Maria’s eyes snapped open, and the dream was immediately cut short. She glanced at her clock. 4:30 a.m. Great. Too early to wake up, but probably too late to go back to sleep. She was bound to suffer from insomnia for the rest of the night.
She sighed, thinking about the dream, the memory. That had been a good day. She and Michael had just lain in that bed for hours, sort of talking, sort of sleeping, definitely making fun of each other. And all that time, she’d had a feeling that the future was going to be full of only good things.
It was true that some of the best days of her life had taken place at the university. But some of the worst days had taken place there, too.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael felt someone walk into his bedroom that night more than he heard it. He opened his eyes, squinted into the darkness, and called quietly, “Maria?”
She just stood there for a moment with her arms crossed over her chest, a frown on her face, and then she slowly stepped forward into the room and came to stand beside the bed. She glanced down, seemingly debating whether or not to sit down on the bed, but eventually she did. She let out a heavy sigh, stared down at her own hands for a moment, then turned to look him right in the eye and ask, “Do you remember four-hundred years?”
It only took him a moment to know exactly what she was talking about. They’d had a lot of conversations over the years—some good, some bad, some calm and some crazy—but he remembered each and every single one of them.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly as he propped himself up into a sitting position. That had been a great day, finding out that they were going to college together with Max and Kyle.
“That’s how long we were gonna make fun of each other and annoy each other.” She sounded nostalgic.
He nodded, remembering.
“I was just dreaming,” she told him, “about that day. And we were so happy. And now we’re here. And we’re not happy.” She sighed again. “I guess I’m just kinda wondering what happened to four-hundred years.”
What was he supposed to say? He felt horrible about what was happening between them, and no matter how hard he tried to make it right . . . was it too little too late? Too much too soon? He’d never been so confused in his life, so he decided to play it safe for once and just point out the obvious. “Maria, we’re not gonna be alive in four-hundred years.”
She made a face. “No, I know that. But that’s not the point. I mean . . . when you said that to me . . . I know I was all, like, rolling my eyes and acting irritated . . . but it was so stupid and romantic. It made me feel warm. And now . . . I feel so cold.”
He felt pretty cold himself, but just having her sitting next to him was heating him up. He refrained from saying ‘I’m sorry, Maria,’ because he knew how it would infuriate her, and sat there in silence instead.
“I just don’t understand,” she said, “why it’s gotten so bad between us. I mean, me and Liz . . . Liz. Liz Parker, the girl I haven’t been friends with for . . . awhile now. She and I might actually be friends again, like real friends this time. But why should we be, right? I stole her boyfriend, she slept with my ex . . . but crazy stuff happens. You know? Even me and Max . . . there’s hope there, so maybe that’s even crazier. But then there’s us, and we couldn’t possibly be any more screwed up, could we?”
He lowered his gaze, feeling guilty for making her suffer. But he had tried, hadn’t he? She was the one who was making it difficult, telling him to go, telling him to go alone.
“Maria . . .”
“It just sucks,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t have relied on you so much. I mean, you were my best friend.”
He winced when she used the past tense.
“But then I started having all these feelings for you, and you were my best friend and more . . .” She sighed in distress.
“Kyle and Tess are best friends,” he pointed out in the same manner Kyle had pointed out that pertinent fact to him.
“Yeah, but we’re not Kyle and Tess. Or Isabel and Alex. Definitely not Liz and Max. We’re Michael and Maria , and we . . . really have a problem, don’t we?”
“Maybe we wouldn’t have a problem if you’d come to L.A. with me,” he suggested, still holding out hope for that.
“No, we’d still have a problem.” She looked him right in the eye and sadly said, “It’s us, Michael. We’re the problem. For eight years, we worked so well as friends. Why’d we have to screw that up?”
“Maria . . .”
“Michael.” Her voice cracked, and she suddenly looked as though she were about to cry. When she spoke again, he couldn’t believe what she said. “You have to forget about me.”
Forget? His confused brain seemed to not know the meaning of the word, or at least not in conjunction with Maria DeLuca.
“Because I’m at the point,” she went on, “where all I can really do is forget about you.”
Forget? Forget? Was she crazy? Clearly she was, but this was just ridiculous. “Maria . . .” How could she even suggest such a thing? Forgetting about her was the last thing he wanted to do. “That’s not possible.”
Somehow, she held back her tears, though there was no mistaking how hard this was for her. “Well, try, okay?”
No. No. He refused. The girl had shaped his entire life for the past eight years. Hell, she was his life. He could go to L.A. if that was what she thought he should do; he could even go alone if she was so adamant about it. But he could not and would not forget about her. She was . . . Maria.
She stood up and hurried out of the room wiping her fingers against her eyes as though to push the tears back. He tried to stop her . . .
“Maria.”
. . . but she didn’t look back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next day was graduation rehearsal. Even though there was still about a week left until the ceremony itself, the rehearsal was being held to prep the class of 2008, make sure they knew where to walk, what paths to take when going up on stage to get their diplomas, what path to take on the way down. Maria was a bit bored out of her mind. Stupid students didn’t seem to get it. They kept asking the coordinator questions. Being that she had years and years of dance team experience under her belt, though, memorizing a simple walking path wasn’t that hard.
“Now, when you walk up on stage, it’s important that you go behind the curtain, and no one should be standing out ahead of the curtain. We want the focus to be on the student receiving the diploma,” the coordinator said.
Maria glanced around at the hundred-some students of the thousand-some students in the graduating class. They all looked . . . hung-over, mostly. All except for Max, of course, who was standing by himself, and Alex, who just looked plain sex-happy.
“This is so boring,” she said to Kyle.
“Yep,” he agreed. “Aren’t you kinda sad, though? It’s almost over.”
Graduation wasn’t what she was sad about. She was sad about the other thing in her life that was almost over.
“I told Michael we need to forget about each other,” she blurted. “Do you think that’s possible? Because he doesn’t think it’s possible.”
“It’s not possible,” Kyle agreed readily.
She sighed in frustration and tried to listen to the coordinator again.
“Now after you get your diploma, please do watch your step when coming down the stairs. Every year the paramedics end up being the guest of honor because someone falls and breaks their neck.”
Maria rolled her eyes at the lameness of it all and returned to conversing with Kyle. “So, don’t tell me you’re still walking with that one girl . . . ah, what’s her name?”
“Stacy. Darcy. Macy. Marcy.” Kyle shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know I slept with her back in the day. She asked me to walk with her a long time ago.”
“How long ago?”
“Uh, years ago. And I was drunk, so I agreed to it. And she still expects me to.”
“Just say no. Tell her she’s a skank from skankland and you don’t want to catch—or re-catch—any of her wide array of skanky STDs.”
“I’m too nice.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyway. They should just go alphabetically. Remember our high school graduation? That thing didn’t go alphabetically, and it was a disaster. But then again, that probably just has something to do with our high school.”
She hung her head as she remembered that. She had been in a very nostalgic mood lately, and as nice as it was to reminisce . . . it was also painful. “Who do you think Max is walking with?” she asked in an effort to get her mind on something else.
“Well, he’s salutatorian, so he has to walk with the valedictorian. Arlene Ross, or whoever.”
“Super nerd,” she declared. “I wish Max would’ve gotten valedictorian. I feel kinda responsible for that.”
“You can’t take the blame for everything, Maria.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Before she could say anything, the coordinator caught her attention.
“Okay, that’s it for today, unless there’s any questions . . .”
“Oh, I have a question,” she announced, raising her hand. “Yeah. Hi. Um . . . what happens if, due to some unforeseen and sucky circumstances, the person you were supposed to walk with doesn’t graduate? Or, he’s graduating, but he’s just not actually gonna be at the graduation ceremony, and then you have no one to walk with.”
“Uh, well, you could try to find somebody else,” the coordinator suggested.
“Somebody else?” she echoed in question. For some reason, when she pictured walking into that auditorium to that ridiculous Pomp and Circumstance song, she could only picture Michael walking with her, just like high school. She didn’t want to picture anyone else. “But what if there’s not someone else?” she asked.
“I’m sure there’s someone. Just ask around.”
“No, but that’s not fair. I mean, come on, this is my college graduation. I’ve worked really hard—I haven’t worked really hard, to be honest, but still . . . it’s this culmination moment and doesn’t everybody deserve to, like, share it with someone they really care about? Not that I don’t care about you people here, but I just . . . don’t care about you. No offense or anything, but . . . I don’t care what you think about me anymore and I don’t think about you guys at all. Probably because I’m too busy thinking about this one person . . . and he’s such an ass. I mean, he’s not even gonna be here. That’s an ass-like thing to do. And did he even consider the fact that I’d be walking alone when he took his porno film internship? No. He just made an impulsive decision, ‘cause that’s what he always does; he acts on impulse. But maybe he should’ve stopped and thought about it, because I know I’m not the best person in the world, but do I really deserve to walk alone? Do I really deserve to be alone? Because if he’s in L.A. and I’m here, that means I’m gonna be alone, because he’s so horrible and wonderful, and everyone else is gonna be second best. Doesn’t he know that? I just wanna forget him. I can’t do that. So I just wanna walk with him. Is that too much to ask?”
Following her rant, everyone just stood there and stared at her, even the rehearsal coordinator. Finally, Kyle cleared his throat and piped up, “I’ll walk with you, Maria.”
“Uh, Kyle!” Stacy-Darcy-Macy-Marcy whined. “No bueno. You’re supposed to walk with me. You promised, remember?”
“Yeah, well, I un-promise. Maria’s my friend. You’re . . .”
“Herpes,” Maria muttered.
“Herpes,” Kyle filled in. “What? Yeah!”
The girl rolled her eyes and stomped her foot in annoyance. “Some people . . .”
“Is that alright?” Kyle asked Maria. “I can walk with you instead.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks, Kyle.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. Don’t take this wrong way; it’s just . . . you’re not . . .”
“Michael,” he filled in. “That’s alright. Right now, he’s the last person I wanna be.”
She tried to smile, but it didn’t work out.
The coordinator cleared his throat and asked, “We got that straightened out? Nobody’s in need of any . . . psychological counseling?” He looked at Maria when he said that.
“Nice. Real subtle,” she told him before glancing up at Kyle pleadingly. “Can we go now?” Her little outburst had left her feeling quite embarrassed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael was busy looking up some hotels in L.A. near the location where the movie was shooting when Maria and Kyle came home that afternoon. Maria didn’t even look at him. She walked through the living room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom without a word. She slammed the door of course. Of course.
“Wow,” Kyle remarked, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “Could that shoulder get any colder?”
Probably not, Michael thought bleakly. “She wants us to forget about each other,” he told his friend.
“So I’ve heard.”
“But how am I supposed to do that? I’ve known her for eight years; she’s my best friend. She’s . . . Maria. I mean, this is the girl who was the queen to my prom king, you know? The yin to my yang . . . or what-I don’t know. I don’t know Chinese stuff. Whatever. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Kyle said, nodding. “She completes you.”
Michael sighed heavily. That sounded a little touchy-feely, but as long as he wasn’t the one saying it . . . plus, it was true.
“I can’t forget about her,” he admitted. “I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” Kyle said simply. “I guarantee she’s not gonna forget about you. Well, maybe when she’s really, really old. But even then, she’ll remember you long after she’s forgotten everyone else.”
Maybe . . . Michael thought, but he couldn’t help having is doubts. Maybe not. Maria was a beautiful girl, and she had a fiery, crazy personality to match. At the end of the day, whether she was the queen of campus anymore or not, she could have any guy she wanted.
“So are you for sure leaving tomorrow?” Kyle asked him.
“Well, I kinda have to. She thinks I should. But I lose either way, you know? I leave, and I upset her. I stay, I upset her.” He sighed. “So I’m just gonna go, maybe upset her less.”
“Well, it’s your mistake to make.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Kyle just shrugged.
Michael shut his laptop and set it aside, tired of looking up hotels, tired of thinking about his future. “So, uh, how was that rehearsal shit today?”
“It was a disaster, as predicted,” Kyle replied.
“That bad, huh?”
“Just boring, mostly. Although it did get a tad more exciting when Maria let loose, had a little rant in front of our whole graduating class.”
“What?”
“Or maybe rant isn’t even the right word for it. Meltdown. Yeah, it was a miniature meltdown,” Kyle amended. “She went off about how it’s not fair that she can’t walk with the person she really wants to and yelled about what an ass you are. And then she said she can’t forget you, even though she wants to. It was a whole moment.”
Michael frowned and glanced at her closed bedroom door. How had he messed her up so much? That had never been his intention.
“Here’s the bottom line,” Kyle said. “Maria DeLuca is a massively tangled psychological network. You get involved with that, and you don’t get uninvolved, especially not when you’re in it as deep as you are. It doesn’t matter if you go to L.A., China, fuckin’ Africa . . . it’s always gonna be Michael and Maria.”
“You sure about that?” Michael asked.
“Of course I’m sure,” Kyle answered affirmatively. “After all, that’s how it’s always been.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Maybe I could get a job at the library, Liz pondered as she strolled across campus that evening. It felt kind of strange walking around there when so many other students were leaving, but since it was emptying out for the summer, she figured her chances of getting a job might be better. Hmm, or maybe I could work at the bookstore. Anything involving books she felt confident about. She used to be really good with books.
“Well, well, well, look who it is.”
Liz spun around when she heard a familiar voice, and she saw her ex-neighbors Claire and Carrie striding towards her with some of the other girls who used to gush about how pretty she was and how cool she was and how lucky she was to have such an awesome boyfriend.
Carrie smirked. “The little bitch.”
Liz knew she should fight back, come up with something snappy to say. Bullies supposedly went away if you put them in their place. But she didn’t know how to do that. Her fall from social grace was different from Maria’s. This was more hostile. People hadn’t ostracized Maria like this because she had Michael, Max, and Kyle in her corner.
“You know, I never liked living next to you two,” Liz said. “You played your music too loud and always left trash in the hallway . . . and you were always really annoying, too.”
Claire grunted. “Look who’s talking.”
Liz began to back up as the group stepped ever closer to her, invading her personal space. “Don’t you all have anything better to do with your time, or is picking on me the highlight of your otherwise dull lives?”
The girls formed a menacing circle around her, and one of them, Sophia, said, “I’d say your life’s gonna be a lot duller now that Michael’s not in it.”
“It’s a good thing. Trust me.” Liz was trying to act calm, trying to keep it together, but as they circled around her like vultures . . . it made her nervous.
“Trust you?” Carrie gritted out. “Trust the liar, the cheater, the whore?”
Okay, that does it, Liz thought. This was just ridiculous. Weren’t they all in college? Weren’t they supposed to be somewhat adults? “You know what? You guys don’t know anything about me, so go ahead and think that. But you’re wrong. And if I may suggest, go home and take a good, long look in the mirror, and think about how well you know yourself. Because FYI, liars and cheaters and whores . . . you all match that description perfectly.”
The moment after they said those words, Claire, Carrie, Sophia, and all the other girls snapped. They grabbed at her and escalated the verbal bullying into physical bullying.
“Let me go!” Liz yelled. “Hey, what’re you doing?”
The girls were a mass of shouts and screams as some of them held onto her arms, some of them scratched at her with their fingernails, and some of them pulled at her hair.
“Ow, stop!” Liz cried. They were really hurting her. They were horrible!
Carrie laughed as she tore Liz’s necklace from around her neck, a beautiful diamond necklace her mom and dad had given her for her high school graduation, threw it on the ground, and crushed the diamond with the heel of her thick boots.
“Stop it, you guys! This is so stupid!” Liz shouted. “Please, just stop!” She felt as though her life was a scene out a book some psychologist would right about female aggression. She had never known girl to get like this before, so terrible and ridiculous and catty. They weren’t letting up.
“Hey!”
Liz felt them let up on their assaults and felt their grips on her arms loosen when a familiar voice rang out in the air: Max.
“Uh-oh,” Claire said sarcastically. “It’s big, bad Max. Everybody run and hide.”
The girls all giggled. Despite the apparent humor they found in the situation, though, they did step back from Liz as Max came forward to confront them.
“Oh, Max, thank God you came by,” Liz said, throwing herself into his arms when he opened them for her.
He hugged her against him and asked, “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Liz admitted as she watched the girls all walk away, looking so happy with their horrible selves. “One day they loved me, and now they hate me. It’s so . . .”
“Liz, they were hurting you,” he said, running his hands over the fresh scratch marks on her arms.
“I didn’t even know girls like this existed,” she thought, horrified by the idea that, had she not left Michael and left that whole lifestyle, she might have become one of these girls.
“Just a minute. Stay here,” Max said as he took off after the group of girls. “Hey!”
Oh my god, Liz thought. Max is getting into a confrontation. Voluntarily. This was so unlike him, but she was thankful for it. As selfish as it sounded, she really wanted a knight in shining armor. Michael had never been able to be that for her, not like he was to Maria.
She couldn’t hear all of what Max was saying, but she did hear him ground out, “Don’t even come near her again.” He went on to say that if they ever tried to hurt her either verbally or physically, he would have them reported to campus authorities, and then they would be subject to being expelled from the university. He managed to scare them without coming off like a creep who was going to hurt them. The looks on their faces were priceless, though. They seemed so surprised to hear Max Evans of all people putting them in their places. As they hurried away, though, Liz felt pretty confident that he had just done her a huge favor. Those girls probably wouldn’t try to attack her anymore. She may not have had Michael and Kyle in her corner the way Maria did, but she had Max . . . and that was enough. Enough for her, anyway.
“Thank you so much,” she said when he made his way back over to her. He was an incredible guy. The more she saw, the more she liked.
“No problem,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded mutely. She would be fine when the shock of the events wore off. Being bullied by girls and rescued by Max . . . stranger things had happened, she supposed.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
That sounded like a very, very good idea.
TBC . . .
-April
Tess is so dippy, she makes Maria look intelligent. But I love her.
So do I! Tess is a ditz, but she actually has some wisdom.killjoy: I had a feeling you would like Tess's role in the last part.
And yes, Michael is a mean drunk for sure!Sara:
Yeah, they didn't want him to, but when Michael decides to do something, there's no stopping him sometimes. He's very stubborn.I can't believe Max and Liz let Michael drive....
Alien_Friend:
Oh, that's a great way to put it! In fact, I don't know who is more dysfuctional, Michael or Maria.Michael, Michael, Michael, he really does have dysfunctional down to an art form.
art_junkie: A new reader? Yea! Thank you for the feedback. I'm glad you have enjoyed my portrayal of Michael and Maria, because I know they're not the most likeably sometimes.
Krista:
Me, neither.I'm not fond of drunk Michael.
He and Maria should just not drink. It never goes well when they do.spacegirl23:
It's kind of crazy that they're becoming real friends just now after everything that has happened, but they're actually quite a bit alike (in some respects) so they might end up being pretty good friends for each other.I'm kinda glad Maria and Liz are fixing their friendship
starcrazed:
They've really gotten themselves into a sticky situation, haven't they? They've set themselves up so that, no matter what decisions they make, they are bound to make some mistakes.I'm with Kyle on this one...I don't know how they're going to get together either.
CandyLand:
I agree, and this stems from the fact that Michael is the type of person who is unwilling to accept responsibility for a lot of his actions.Drunk Michael is a bastard, plain and simple. Michael's hatefulness to Liz is just above and beyond unneccessary
tequathisy:
Exactly. They care about each other more than anything in the world, but they just can't seem to function together right now.Until Michael does some serious growing up, they'll never be able to have a proper functional relationship.
Christina:
I thought, "Aww, now how cute would it be if Max and Liz watched a documentary on the history channel or something on the discovery channel together?" And lo and behold, they watch a documentary on flatworms. How boring. But how freakin' cute!
You must be psychic! You predicted it! I know, flatworms, right? Sounds so boring. But I actually watched a flatworm documentary years and years ago, back when I was still in middle school, I believe, and it was awesome! I haven't forgotten it since! lollilah:
Ha ha ha, what were you hoping for? That he'd tell her he loves her or something?I actually felt just the slightest twinge of hope when Michael was doing his drunken, concussion mumbling, but then..no of course not!!
Thanks for the feedback, you guys, and thanks for the congrats on nominations. (Thanks for nominating me in the first place!) Congrats to any of my readers who also have fics nominated!
Part 112
When Liz walked into the apartment that night, she felt really good for the first time in a long time. Not the faux kind of good she had felt while dating Michael, but the real kind of good. The hopeful kind, the optimistic kind, the energetic kind.
“Hey, Max,” she said as she practically skipped into the kitchen. “Something smells good. Are you making dinner?”
“Yep,” he replied. “I bought one of those stupid George Foreman grills today, thought I’d make some burgers.”
“That’s nice of you.” She sat down at their kitchen counter and watched as he flipped both of the burgers over to brown the other sides.
“You want cheese on yours?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
He cast a glance back at her and remarked, “You’re in an awfully good mood. I take it dancing went well?”
“Very well. So well, in fact, that I got a new dance choreographed.”
“Really? All by yourself?”
“No, not by myself,” she admitted. “Actually, I got a lot of help . . . from Maria.”
“Maria?” Max echoed in question as he laid a slice of cheese down atop Liz’s burger.
“Yeah, it’s strange, but I feel like she and I are gonna be better friends now than we were before. Even after everything that happened . . . her and Michael, you and me . . . I think we’ve both made some positive changes lately, and, I don’t know, hopefully we’ll keep doing that.”
Max smiled and remarked, “You sound like a motivational speaker.”
“Shut up, I do not!”
“Yes, you do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I do. But I can’t help it. I’m just feeling good right now. New dance, new beginning of a new friendship with Maria . . .” She smiled and added, “New roommate.”
“New roommate who grills burgers.”
She laughed. Oh, you’re so endearing, Max. Although Michael had qualities that Max didn’t have, Max had qualities that Michael didn’t have, as well. She was glad she had finally realized that.
“So is the dance good?” Max asked.
“Oh, it’s the best. Wait ‘til you see it, Max. It’s gonna, like, knock your socks off.”
He glanced down at his bare feet and gave her a look.
“Well, it’ll knock your socks off anyway,” she assured him. “Granted, I still look a little awkward doing it, but Maria promised I’d get better.”
“What kind of dance is it?”
“Oh, like this fast, hard-hitting hip-hop routine, only we’re doing it to a rock song. It’s so cool. I can’t wait to teach the other girls.” She realized what she’d said only right after she’d said it and quickly amended, “No, on second thought, actually I can. They’re gonna complain because it’s really hard, but I’m gonna be captain-ly and tell them we’re not taking the easy way out anymore.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Max agreed.
“Oh, you know what else, Max? Maria taught me how to do a triple turn.”
“A triple?” He gave her a confused look. “I don’t even know what a double is.”
“Well, double’s heard enough, spinning around twice. But the triple . . . here, let me show you.” She stood up again, very excited, and spun around on the tile floor of the kitchen. She knew it wasn’t a good turn, though. She hadn’t found a good center of balance, and the tile wasn’t like the gym floor. She slipped and shrieked as she fell, but she didn’t hit the ground, because Max lunged forward and caught her.
“Oh, thanks,” she said. “Lost my balance on that one.” She stared up into his eyes, realizing that this was the first time his hands had been on her body since the locker room hook-up. The knowledge sent pleasurable shivers up her spine.
Max set her back down on her own two feet and replied, “It looked good.”
“Yeah, right. I fell out of it.”
“Give yourself some credit. It can’t be easy.” He smiled at her again.
Oh, Max, she thought, I think I’m really going to like living with you.
“As opposed to making burgers, which is very easy,” he said as he used a spatula to lift one patty off the George Foreman grill and set it down atop a hamburger bun. He handed the plate to her and gestured toward the counter. “Ketchup, mustard, pickles, onions . . . anything you want right there.”
“Thanks,” she said as she placed the second bun atop the beef patty. “But I think I’ll just eat this plain cheeseburger.” She was feeling sort of . . . cheesy, so to speak. The whole moment she and Max had just shared, her falling and him catching her, was about as cheesy as it got, but it had been so nice.
Max prepared his burger and sat down beside her at the counter. He took a bite out of his and nodded his head in approval. “Not bad, right?”
“Chef Max,” she teased as she took a bite out of her cheeseburger. “Mmm, no. Not bad at all.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dancing had worn Maria out, so when she fell asleep that night, she fell fast and hard. Dreams came instantly.
The letter. The big letter. The one that had a lot to do with her future, not that she gave her future much thought. Maria held it in her hands, staring down at the address in the top left-hand corner. University of Santa Fe New Mexico. Administration Building. Holy shit.
Why am I just standing here? she wondered. Letters were meant to be opened. She tore open the envelope flap, careful not to tear the inside contents, pulled out the letter, and eagerly unfolded it. All she had to do was read the first line to find out that she had gotten in, that she was going to college after all. A smile lit up her face, and bounced up and down excitedly, squealing. “Oh, yes!” She laughed and tore downstairs with the letter and envelope in her hand.
“Guess what, Mom?” she exclaimed. “I got into college! A real one!”
Amy looked both shocked and thrilled. “What? Oh, that’s great.”
“Heck yeah,” Maria agreed as she stuffed the letter back into the envelope and slid on a pair of sandals. “Four years of frat parties? Count me in!” She laughed and ran out of the house, noting her mother’s disappointed expression.
There was no question as to where she was going. Where else would she go on a day like this? Who would she tell before him? No one.
She ran all the way to his house, doing a few joyful leaps and jumps on the way. College was going to be awesome. She was going to dance and party all the time. No more of this juvenile high school crap. As fun as it had been, she was ready for a change, ready to go on to bigger and better things—and hopefully bigger and better guys. If it was possible, she could be even more popular at the university than at her high school. That was definitely a goal. Be the queen.
She ran up the porch steps to Michael’s house and threw open the rickety door. “Hi, Mr. Guerin!” she chirped to Michael's father, stepping over the trash and empty beer bottles lying discarded on the floor.
“You wanna take off your clothes?” the disgusting, couch-potato man asked her in between drinks.
“Not for you!” she exclaimed in a sing-song voice as she climbed the stairs. She skipped down the hallway to her annoying friend’s bedroom, opened the door, and found him lying asleep in his bed. She giggled and ran forward. “Michael!” she exclaimed as she jumped up on the bed and pounced on him.
“Oh,” he groaned, immediately jolted away. “Crap. Watch the package.”
“What package?” she joked as she sat atop him, straddling his body with her legs.
“Oh, funny.”
“Michael, guess what?”
“You got laid last night?”
“Well . . . yeah. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I got laid, too,” he said, suddenly looking around. “Where’d that girl go? I thought she’d still be here.”
“Michael, it’s like 3:00 in the afternoon,” she informed him. “That’s a little late, even for you. Your fuck buddy’s probably gone.”
“Well, good thing you showed up then,” he joked, grinning mischievously.
“Ew, don’t be disgusting. Come on, seriously, can I tell you why I’m here?”
He rubbed his forehead tiredly and yawned. “Oh, I guess.”
“Good. Look at this.” She proudly held up her acceptance letter.
He squinted his eyes at it and asked, “What the hell’s that?”
“Duh, University of Santa Fe. What do you think it is?”
He smiled. “Did you get in?”
“Hell yeah, I got in! I’m going to college. I’m college bound.”
“Ah, Max and Kyle will be happy to hear that.”
“You should be happy, too,” she said. “Listen to this.” She unfolded the letter, cleared her throat, and read the first part aloud. “‘Dear, Maria. We received your fall application and are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for attendance at the University of Santa Fe in New Mexico during the 2004/2005 academic year.’ God, isn’t that, like, poetry?”
“Pretty poetic.”
“Can you believe it. After all the no’s, I get a yes. I’m so freaking out right now.”
“I can see that.”
“And college, I mean . . . it’s gonna be like one non-stop party. Get drunk, have sex . . . those are two things I’m very good at.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Oh, and I’m gonna try out for the dance team, too, add some sexiness to that.”
“Definite sexiness,” he agreed. “Well, I’m happy for you, Maria. Shocked, but happy.”
“Yeah.” She stuffed the letter back in the envelope and said, “What about you? Have you gotten a letter back yet?”
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“You don’t know? Seriously, Michael.” She leaned over his head and reached over onto his cluttered desk, trying to find a letter from the university.
“Nice,” he remarked, causing her to realize that her breasts were dangling right in his face.
“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, still rummaging through all the papers on his desk. “Oh, here it is. Right here. I can’t believe you haven’t even opened it! You’re stupid!”
“Open it for me,” he suggested.
She sat back up again and made a face. “Why do I have to open it? If you didn’t get in, that means I have to be the bearer of bad news.”
“I got in,” he said confidently. “I got a higher ACT score than you did.”
“Oh, because of dumb luck!”
“Still . . . my grades were better than yours.”
“Uh-uh!”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Yeah-huh?” She grunted. “Whatever. I had extracurriculars.”
“Just dance team.”
“Of which I was an award-winning captain. What do you have? Ooh, president of the sex club.”
“That’s a good idea, the sex club. I should form that. You could be my secretary.”
“Oh my god, you’re obnoxious,” she said as she slid her fingernail under the envelope flap and slowly opened it. “You’re so obnoxious.”
“But can you picture me any other way?”
Reluctantly, she smiled. No, she couldn’t.
“Come on, open it faster,” he said.
“Okay, don’t have a hissy fit.” She tossed the envelope aside, unfolded the letter and read what it had to say. “Oh,” she said. “Wow.”
“What?” There was only a hint of worry in his voice.
She looked him in the eye and told him, “You didn’t get in.”
“What?” Now the worry had evolved into full-blown panic. “But this was my last shot! This was my back-up plan!”
“Looks like your back-up plan just got shot to hell,” she remarked.
He studied her for a moment, wrinkled his forehead in contemplation, then said, “No way, you’re kiddin’ me.”
“I’m not,” she insisted.
“Give me that.” He seized the letter from her, and she smiled as he read it. Eventually, he smiled, too, and said, “I knew I got in. You little bitch.”
“I just had to freak you out,” she said, giggling.
“It didn’t work.”
“Yes, it did. You were freaking.”
“I was freaking?”
“Yeah, you’re a freak.”
“A freak who’s goin’ to college with you. Come here, baby.”
“Michael!” she squealed when she felt his hands on her waist, lifting her off him and setting her down next to him. She lay down beside him, allowing him to toss the covers over her. “What’re you doing?” she asked.
“Goin’ back to sleep,” he replied as he turned to face her.
“Seriously? You don’t wanna celebrate college?”
“I’ll celebrate by sleeping,” he said. “I’m tired. I got laid hardcore last night, alright?”
“Yeah, I can tell. Your sheets are so gross.”
“Are they?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to shower, like, twelve times to even begin to get rid of the grossness.”
“I’ll shower with you,” he offered, grinning that stupid horny grin he was so famous for.
“Uh, no, you won’t. I object.”
“Overruled.”
“Not overruled. Your naked body is coming nowhere close to my naked body. There are just some things I will not do.”
“Well, that’s a relief. But you’re missin’ out. I got a good body.”
“I got a better one.”
“Yeah, but I got a friend down south. His name’s Richard; people call him Dick.”
“Oh my god,” she groaned, halfway exasperated and halfway amused. “Is this really what I’m subjecting myself to for the next four years? Annoyance and dick talk?”
“Well, we gotta talk about my dick. It’s divine.”
“Divine?” she echoed in disgust. “Oh, spare me. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it.”
“You don’t know how you’re gonna do my dick?” he asked. “You just get on it and ride it like a cowgirl, babe.”
“No, not that—I’m not gonna do that.”
“But it’s divine,” he reminded her.
“Ew, gross. No. I was saying I don’t know how I’m gonna do the next four years, like living with you. I might go out of my mind.”
“You’re already out of your mind.”
“But I might really go out of my mind.”
He smiled. “Awesome.”
She rolled her eyes. He was such an unbelievable lunatic.
“It’s gonna be more than four years, though,” he assured her.
“You think?”
“Oh, I know. Even after college, I’ll still be pissin’ you off. It’s gonna be more like forty years. No, four-hundred years.”
“Four- hundred years,” she echoed.
“Of annoyance and dick talk. How’s that sound?”
Horrible, she thought, and kinda nice. “I could think of worse things,” she admitted.
“Damn straight. Let’s go to college, baby.”
“Let’s,” she agreed, excited for the experience. “I have a feeling those are gonna be the best days of our lives.”
Maria’s eyes snapped open, and the dream was immediately cut short. She glanced at her clock. 4:30 a.m. Great. Too early to wake up, but probably too late to go back to sleep. She was bound to suffer from insomnia for the rest of the night.
She sighed, thinking about the dream, the memory. That had been a good day. She and Michael had just lain in that bed for hours, sort of talking, sort of sleeping, definitely making fun of each other. And all that time, she’d had a feeling that the future was going to be full of only good things.
It was true that some of the best days of her life had taken place at the university. But some of the worst days had taken place there, too.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael felt someone walk into his bedroom that night more than he heard it. He opened his eyes, squinted into the darkness, and called quietly, “Maria?”
She just stood there for a moment with her arms crossed over her chest, a frown on her face, and then she slowly stepped forward into the room and came to stand beside the bed. She glanced down, seemingly debating whether or not to sit down on the bed, but eventually she did. She let out a heavy sigh, stared down at her own hands for a moment, then turned to look him right in the eye and ask, “Do you remember four-hundred years?”
It only took him a moment to know exactly what she was talking about. They’d had a lot of conversations over the years—some good, some bad, some calm and some crazy—but he remembered each and every single one of them.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly as he propped himself up into a sitting position. That had been a great day, finding out that they were going to college together with Max and Kyle.
“That’s how long we were gonna make fun of each other and annoy each other.” She sounded nostalgic.
He nodded, remembering.
“I was just dreaming,” she told him, “about that day. And we were so happy. And now we’re here. And we’re not happy.” She sighed again. “I guess I’m just kinda wondering what happened to four-hundred years.”
What was he supposed to say? He felt horrible about what was happening between them, and no matter how hard he tried to make it right . . . was it too little too late? Too much too soon? He’d never been so confused in his life, so he decided to play it safe for once and just point out the obvious. “Maria, we’re not gonna be alive in four-hundred years.”
She made a face. “No, I know that. But that’s not the point. I mean . . . when you said that to me . . . I know I was all, like, rolling my eyes and acting irritated . . . but it was so stupid and romantic. It made me feel warm. And now . . . I feel so cold.”
He felt pretty cold himself, but just having her sitting next to him was heating him up. He refrained from saying ‘I’m sorry, Maria,’ because he knew how it would infuriate her, and sat there in silence instead.
“I just don’t understand,” she said, “why it’s gotten so bad between us. I mean, me and Liz . . . Liz. Liz Parker, the girl I haven’t been friends with for . . . awhile now. She and I might actually be friends again, like real friends this time. But why should we be, right? I stole her boyfriend, she slept with my ex . . . but crazy stuff happens. You know? Even me and Max . . . there’s hope there, so maybe that’s even crazier. But then there’s us, and we couldn’t possibly be any more screwed up, could we?”
He lowered his gaze, feeling guilty for making her suffer. But he had tried, hadn’t he? She was the one who was making it difficult, telling him to go, telling him to go alone.
“Maria . . .”
“It just sucks,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t have relied on you so much. I mean, you were my best friend.”
He winced when she used the past tense.
“But then I started having all these feelings for you, and you were my best friend and more . . .” She sighed in distress.
“Kyle and Tess are best friends,” he pointed out in the same manner Kyle had pointed out that pertinent fact to him.
“Yeah, but we’re not Kyle and Tess. Or Isabel and Alex. Definitely not Liz and Max. We’re Michael and Maria , and we . . . really have a problem, don’t we?”
“Maybe we wouldn’t have a problem if you’d come to L.A. with me,” he suggested, still holding out hope for that.
“No, we’d still have a problem.” She looked him right in the eye and sadly said, “It’s us, Michael. We’re the problem. For eight years, we worked so well as friends. Why’d we have to screw that up?”
“Maria . . .”
“Michael.” Her voice cracked, and she suddenly looked as though she were about to cry. When she spoke again, he couldn’t believe what she said. “You have to forget about me.”
Forget? His confused brain seemed to not know the meaning of the word, or at least not in conjunction with Maria DeLuca.
“Because I’m at the point,” she went on, “where all I can really do is forget about you.”
Forget? Forget? Was she crazy? Clearly she was, but this was just ridiculous. “Maria . . .” How could she even suggest such a thing? Forgetting about her was the last thing he wanted to do. “That’s not possible.”
Somehow, she held back her tears, though there was no mistaking how hard this was for her. “Well, try, okay?”
No. No. He refused. The girl had shaped his entire life for the past eight years. Hell, she was his life. He could go to L.A. if that was what she thought he should do; he could even go alone if she was so adamant about it. But he could not and would not forget about her. She was . . . Maria.
She stood up and hurried out of the room wiping her fingers against her eyes as though to push the tears back. He tried to stop her . . .
“Maria.”
. . . but she didn’t look back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next day was graduation rehearsal. Even though there was still about a week left until the ceremony itself, the rehearsal was being held to prep the class of 2008, make sure they knew where to walk, what paths to take when going up on stage to get their diplomas, what path to take on the way down. Maria was a bit bored out of her mind. Stupid students didn’t seem to get it. They kept asking the coordinator questions. Being that she had years and years of dance team experience under her belt, though, memorizing a simple walking path wasn’t that hard.
“Now, when you walk up on stage, it’s important that you go behind the curtain, and no one should be standing out ahead of the curtain. We want the focus to be on the student receiving the diploma,” the coordinator said.
Maria glanced around at the hundred-some students of the thousand-some students in the graduating class. They all looked . . . hung-over, mostly. All except for Max, of course, who was standing by himself, and Alex, who just looked plain sex-happy.
“This is so boring,” she said to Kyle.
“Yep,” he agreed. “Aren’t you kinda sad, though? It’s almost over.”
Graduation wasn’t what she was sad about. She was sad about the other thing in her life that was almost over.
“I told Michael we need to forget about each other,” she blurted. “Do you think that’s possible? Because he doesn’t think it’s possible.”
“It’s not possible,” Kyle agreed readily.
She sighed in frustration and tried to listen to the coordinator again.
“Now after you get your diploma, please do watch your step when coming down the stairs. Every year the paramedics end up being the guest of honor because someone falls and breaks their neck.”
Maria rolled her eyes at the lameness of it all and returned to conversing with Kyle. “So, don’t tell me you’re still walking with that one girl . . . ah, what’s her name?”
“Stacy. Darcy. Macy. Marcy.” Kyle shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know I slept with her back in the day. She asked me to walk with her a long time ago.”
“How long ago?”
“Uh, years ago. And I was drunk, so I agreed to it. And she still expects me to.”
“Just say no. Tell her she’s a skank from skankland and you don’t want to catch—or re-catch—any of her wide array of skanky STDs.”
“I’m too nice.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyway. They should just go alphabetically. Remember our high school graduation? That thing didn’t go alphabetically, and it was a disaster. But then again, that probably just has something to do with our high school.”
She hung her head as she remembered that. She had been in a very nostalgic mood lately, and as nice as it was to reminisce . . . it was also painful. “Who do you think Max is walking with?” she asked in an effort to get her mind on something else.
“Well, he’s salutatorian, so he has to walk with the valedictorian. Arlene Ross, or whoever.”
“Super nerd,” she declared. “I wish Max would’ve gotten valedictorian. I feel kinda responsible for that.”
“You can’t take the blame for everything, Maria.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Before she could say anything, the coordinator caught her attention.
“Okay, that’s it for today, unless there’s any questions . . .”
“Oh, I have a question,” she announced, raising her hand. “Yeah. Hi. Um . . . what happens if, due to some unforeseen and sucky circumstances, the person you were supposed to walk with doesn’t graduate? Or, he’s graduating, but he’s just not actually gonna be at the graduation ceremony, and then you have no one to walk with.”
“Uh, well, you could try to find somebody else,” the coordinator suggested.
“Somebody else?” she echoed in question. For some reason, when she pictured walking into that auditorium to that ridiculous Pomp and Circumstance song, she could only picture Michael walking with her, just like high school. She didn’t want to picture anyone else. “But what if there’s not someone else?” she asked.
“I’m sure there’s someone. Just ask around.”
“No, but that’s not fair. I mean, come on, this is my college graduation. I’ve worked really hard—I haven’t worked really hard, to be honest, but still . . . it’s this culmination moment and doesn’t everybody deserve to, like, share it with someone they really care about? Not that I don’t care about you people here, but I just . . . don’t care about you. No offense or anything, but . . . I don’t care what you think about me anymore and I don’t think about you guys at all. Probably because I’m too busy thinking about this one person . . . and he’s such an ass. I mean, he’s not even gonna be here. That’s an ass-like thing to do. And did he even consider the fact that I’d be walking alone when he took his porno film internship? No. He just made an impulsive decision, ‘cause that’s what he always does; he acts on impulse. But maybe he should’ve stopped and thought about it, because I know I’m not the best person in the world, but do I really deserve to walk alone? Do I really deserve to be alone? Because if he’s in L.A. and I’m here, that means I’m gonna be alone, because he’s so horrible and wonderful, and everyone else is gonna be second best. Doesn’t he know that? I just wanna forget him. I can’t do that. So I just wanna walk with him. Is that too much to ask?”
Following her rant, everyone just stood there and stared at her, even the rehearsal coordinator. Finally, Kyle cleared his throat and piped up, “I’ll walk with you, Maria.”
“Uh, Kyle!” Stacy-Darcy-Macy-Marcy whined. “No bueno. You’re supposed to walk with me. You promised, remember?”
“Yeah, well, I un-promise. Maria’s my friend. You’re . . .”
“Herpes,” Maria muttered.
“Herpes,” Kyle filled in. “What? Yeah!”
The girl rolled her eyes and stomped her foot in annoyance. “Some people . . .”
“Is that alright?” Kyle asked Maria. “I can walk with you instead.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks, Kyle.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. Don’t take this wrong way; it’s just . . . you’re not . . .”
“Michael,” he filled in. “That’s alright. Right now, he’s the last person I wanna be.”
She tried to smile, but it didn’t work out.
The coordinator cleared his throat and asked, “We got that straightened out? Nobody’s in need of any . . . psychological counseling?” He looked at Maria when he said that.
“Nice. Real subtle,” she told him before glancing up at Kyle pleadingly. “Can we go now?” Her little outburst had left her feeling quite embarrassed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael was busy looking up some hotels in L.A. near the location where the movie was shooting when Maria and Kyle came home that afternoon. Maria didn’t even look at him. She walked through the living room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom without a word. She slammed the door of course. Of course.
“Wow,” Kyle remarked, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “Could that shoulder get any colder?”
Probably not, Michael thought bleakly. “She wants us to forget about each other,” he told his friend.
“So I’ve heard.”
“But how am I supposed to do that? I’ve known her for eight years; she’s my best friend. She’s . . . Maria. I mean, this is the girl who was the queen to my prom king, you know? The yin to my yang . . . or what-I don’t know. I don’t know Chinese stuff. Whatever. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Kyle said, nodding. “She completes you.”
Michael sighed heavily. That sounded a little touchy-feely, but as long as he wasn’t the one saying it . . . plus, it was true.
“I can’t forget about her,” he admitted. “I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” Kyle said simply. “I guarantee she’s not gonna forget about you. Well, maybe when she’s really, really old. But even then, she’ll remember you long after she’s forgotten everyone else.”
Maybe . . . Michael thought, but he couldn’t help having is doubts. Maybe not. Maria was a beautiful girl, and she had a fiery, crazy personality to match. At the end of the day, whether she was the queen of campus anymore or not, she could have any guy she wanted.
“So are you for sure leaving tomorrow?” Kyle asked him.
“Well, I kinda have to. She thinks I should. But I lose either way, you know? I leave, and I upset her. I stay, I upset her.” He sighed. “So I’m just gonna go, maybe upset her less.”
“Well, it’s your mistake to make.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Kyle just shrugged.
Michael shut his laptop and set it aside, tired of looking up hotels, tired of thinking about his future. “So, uh, how was that rehearsal shit today?”
“It was a disaster, as predicted,” Kyle replied.
“That bad, huh?”
“Just boring, mostly. Although it did get a tad more exciting when Maria let loose, had a little rant in front of our whole graduating class.”
“What?”
“Or maybe rant isn’t even the right word for it. Meltdown. Yeah, it was a miniature meltdown,” Kyle amended. “She went off about how it’s not fair that she can’t walk with the person she really wants to and yelled about what an ass you are. And then she said she can’t forget you, even though she wants to. It was a whole moment.”
Michael frowned and glanced at her closed bedroom door. How had he messed her up so much? That had never been his intention.
“Here’s the bottom line,” Kyle said. “Maria DeLuca is a massively tangled psychological network. You get involved with that, and you don’t get uninvolved, especially not when you’re in it as deep as you are. It doesn’t matter if you go to L.A., China, fuckin’ Africa . . . it’s always gonna be Michael and Maria.”
“You sure about that?” Michael asked.
“Of course I’m sure,” Kyle answered affirmatively. “After all, that’s how it’s always been.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Maybe I could get a job at the library, Liz pondered as she strolled across campus that evening. It felt kind of strange walking around there when so many other students were leaving, but since it was emptying out for the summer, she figured her chances of getting a job might be better. Hmm, or maybe I could work at the bookstore. Anything involving books she felt confident about. She used to be really good with books.
“Well, well, well, look who it is.”
Liz spun around when she heard a familiar voice, and she saw her ex-neighbors Claire and Carrie striding towards her with some of the other girls who used to gush about how pretty she was and how cool she was and how lucky she was to have such an awesome boyfriend.
Carrie smirked. “The little bitch.”
Liz knew she should fight back, come up with something snappy to say. Bullies supposedly went away if you put them in their place. But she didn’t know how to do that. Her fall from social grace was different from Maria’s. This was more hostile. People hadn’t ostracized Maria like this because she had Michael, Max, and Kyle in her corner.
“You know, I never liked living next to you two,” Liz said. “You played your music too loud and always left trash in the hallway . . . and you were always really annoying, too.”
Claire grunted. “Look who’s talking.”
Liz began to back up as the group stepped ever closer to her, invading her personal space. “Don’t you all have anything better to do with your time, or is picking on me the highlight of your otherwise dull lives?”
The girls formed a menacing circle around her, and one of them, Sophia, said, “I’d say your life’s gonna be a lot duller now that Michael’s not in it.”
“It’s a good thing. Trust me.” Liz was trying to act calm, trying to keep it together, but as they circled around her like vultures . . . it made her nervous.
“Trust you?” Carrie gritted out. “Trust the liar, the cheater, the whore?”
Okay, that does it, Liz thought. This was just ridiculous. Weren’t they all in college? Weren’t they supposed to be somewhat adults? “You know what? You guys don’t know anything about me, so go ahead and think that. But you’re wrong. And if I may suggest, go home and take a good, long look in the mirror, and think about how well you know yourself. Because FYI, liars and cheaters and whores . . . you all match that description perfectly.”
The moment after they said those words, Claire, Carrie, Sophia, and all the other girls snapped. They grabbed at her and escalated the verbal bullying into physical bullying.
“Let me go!” Liz yelled. “Hey, what’re you doing?”
The girls were a mass of shouts and screams as some of them held onto her arms, some of them scratched at her with their fingernails, and some of them pulled at her hair.
“Ow, stop!” Liz cried. They were really hurting her. They were horrible!
Carrie laughed as she tore Liz’s necklace from around her neck, a beautiful diamond necklace her mom and dad had given her for her high school graduation, threw it on the ground, and crushed the diamond with the heel of her thick boots.
“Stop it, you guys! This is so stupid!” Liz shouted. “Please, just stop!” She felt as though her life was a scene out a book some psychologist would right about female aggression. She had never known girl to get like this before, so terrible and ridiculous and catty. They weren’t letting up.
“Hey!”
Liz felt them let up on their assaults and felt their grips on her arms loosen when a familiar voice rang out in the air: Max.
“Uh-oh,” Claire said sarcastically. “It’s big, bad Max. Everybody run and hide.”
The girls all giggled. Despite the apparent humor they found in the situation, though, they did step back from Liz as Max came forward to confront them.
“Oh, Max, thank God you came by,” Liz said, throwing herself into his arms when he opened them for her.
He hugged her against him and asked, “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Liz admitted as she watched the girls all walk away, looking so happy with their horrible selves. “One day they loved me, and now they hate me. It’s so . . .”
“Liz, they were hurting you,” he said, running his hands over the fresh scratch marks on her arms.
“I didn’t even know girls like this existed,” she thought, horrified by the idea that, had she not left Michael and left that whole lifestyle, she might have become one of these girls.
“Just a minute. Stay here,” Max said as he took off after the group of girls. “Hey!”
Oh my god, Liz thought. Max is getting into a confrontation. Voluntarily. This was so unlike him, but she was thankful for it. As selfish as it sounded, she really wanted a knight in shining armor. Michael had never been able to be that for her, not like he was to Maria.
She couldn’t hear all of what Max was saying, but she did hear him ground out, “Don’t even come near her again.” He went on to say that if they ever tried to hurt her either verbally or physically, he would have them reported to campus authorities, and then they would be subject to being expelled from the university. He managed to scare them without coming off like a creep who was going to hurt them. The looks on their faces were priceless, though. They seemed so surprised to hear Max Evans of all people putting them in their places. As they hurried away, though, Liz felt pretty confident that he had just done her a huge favor. Those girls probably wouldn’t try to attack her anymore. She may not have had Michael and Kyle in her corner the way Maria did, but she had Max . . . and that was enough. Enough for her, anyway.
“Thank you so much,” she said when he made his way back over to her. He was an incredible guy. The more she saw, the more she liked.
“No problem,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded mutely. She would be fine when the shock of the events wore off. Being bullied by girls and rescued by Max . . . stranger things had happened, she supposed.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
That sounded like a very, very good idea.
TBC . . .
-April
Really couldn't have said it any better myself.
Enjoy this part and have a good weekend!
smiley.
Could be. Although it makes it much more dramatic, I think!
Believe it or not, it actually is getting somewhere. Wednesday's update is going to bring things to a head.
smiley. I couldn't find it on Youtube, and the link I tried to provide you wouldn't work, so if you want to listen to it, Google "listen to vitamin string quartet cute without the e" and click on the first result that pops up. Or just don't listen to it. 