Passion (M&M & CC/UC, AU, Adult, ) (Complete)

[April]

grnkrystle:

It irritates me how they do what they want and just wanna have fun. Life isn't all about fun and games. It seems to me they both need to grow up.

Without a doubt! Michael and Maria are really good at the having fun part of life, not so good at the being responsible part of life. They're probably always going to be at least a little bit immature, but I think you'll see them making some progress throughout the fic.
Alien_Friend:

Perhaps he's just on a high off of the fact that he finally gets to be with her now, that his judgment is impaired.

Yeah, Max is definitely on Cloud Nine right now, and he won't be leaving any time soon, I'm afraid.
stinebiene:

And to Max: he should get himself some good glasses!!!

lol, yes, poor blind as a bat Max. Thanks for reading!
nibbles2:

His thoughts about the way he has to treat Liz are interesting...he's thinking the right things and doing the right thing. But what's his motivation? He doesn't seem to have any emotional justification for his reasons. Why is he investing so much in Liz?

That's kind of up for you to decide. The way I always thought about it . . . Michael only decided to start something up with Liz after Maria started something up with Max. So it's probably just one of his unconscious attempts to handle the fact that Maria now has a boyfriend. Get a girlfriend, get even. (Oh, and about Kyle . . . yes, he is a very generous guy, lol. I wish I really had a friend like that. Think of him like a superhero: he's rock solid, he's cool, always there for his friends, and he always has money.
pookie76:

I don't really know what to think about Michael. He seems so....detached to everything..well except sex. I still don't see that he has stronger feelings for Maria.

Michael's feelings are sometimes very hard to figure out, I'll admit. He has what I like to describe as "typical guy feelings." Meaning his main focus in life is sex, and he just doesn't make an attempt to think about anything else. Even though he has feelings, he doesn't acknowledge them at all. But once in awhile, you'll find that he says things to Maria, just little comments, little remarks, and it's clear that he does have feelings he's completely oblivious of.
tequathisy:

Michael and Maria are so funny - despicable but very funny. They are perfect for each other but I think that before they can have a normal functioning mature relationship they each have a lot of growing up to do. And cruel as it may be but their relationships with Max and Liz are necessary parts in their development and maturity.

I couldn't have said it any better myself! And you're right that Max and Liz both need reality checks. And as for Kyle . . . well, it's like I said to nibbles2, he's pretty much just an awesome guy. And you're right, he's definitely the sanest one!

guel: Glad you liked the last part! You won't find out who loses the bet in this part, but you'll find out after I come back from spring break.

Alright, there is one little brief Michael and Liz interlude in this part, but it's not that descriptive, so I don't think we need our smilies. Just read that part fast, lol.










Part 31








When Maria arrived home that evening, she tried to project an air of confidence, tried to act like she wasn’t worried about losing the bet.

Michael, of course, was waiting for her. “And how was your day?”

“Fine, thank you very much,” she bit out.

“Is that fine as in you got a job?”

“It’s fine as in kiss my ass.”

He held up his hands in exasperation. “I just asked a question.”

She sighed, hating to admit this to him. “No,” she said. “No job yet.”

“Hmm. So in other words, I should tell Liz to pucker up?” He grinned.

“Oh, you should tell Liz not to hold her breath. The bet was that I’d have a job within a week,” she reminded him. “I’ve still got four whole days.” She smiled. “That’s plenty of time for someone as smart and beautiful as me.”

He grunted. “And you call me egotistic.”

“I’m just saying, you and Liz better get jiggy with it while you still can. Clock’s ticking.”

“That’s right, clock’s ticking,” he called after her as she headed down the hallway to her room. “You can’t beat me, Maria. It’s not possible.”

She smiled. That’s what he thinks. This job bet was definitely a good idea. It kept her mind off of . . . other things.

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

Michael groaned as he pushed into Liz one last time, releasing himself into . . . well, the condom, not her. Good enough.

“Oh,” Liz gasped, holding on to his shoulders as she, too, fell off the sexual cliff. “Michael!”

He forced his heavy eyelids open and watched her as she came, the look of pure pleasure on her face. It never ceased to amaze him just how many girls he got off. They always came. Always. How many guys could say that?

It took all his strength to hold himself up and not crush her with his bodyweight as he sifted through his post-sex stupor and began to recover from his latest orgasm. It was already his second one that night, third for Liz. They were going to be so spent tomorrow.

Liz smiled happily and tangled her fingers in his sweaty hair. “Wow,” she said.

“Is that your favorite word?” He’d noticed she said it a lot.

“With you, yeah.” She giggled, massaging his scalp with her fingers. A few days ago, she had been very hesitant about touching. Not now. Now, she was getting very comfortable with it.

“Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s with all the mind-blowing sex?”

He chuckled. “You’re a girl. I’m a guy. It seems only natural.”

“And?”

He sighed. “Well, you know, I made that stupid bet with Maria. I mean, she’s not gonna get a job. I don’t think so. But you never know. Anything can happen. Hell could freeze over.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s not nice.”

“Well, Maria’s not nice.”

“She’s always been nice to me.”

“And she’s always been a bitch to me.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”

She smiled and said, “Well . . . I don’t think she’s gonna get a job, either. No offense to her or anything, but . . . it’s just not her style. But you’re right. You never know, I guess.”

“Exactly.” He sighed and felt his hips starting to press into her against instinctively. He couldn’t help it. He was too horny. He had too many hormones.

“Sorry,” he apologized, hoping she didn’t feel like he was just using her for her body. “I’m gettin’ hard again.”

She gave him a suspicious, slightly angry look, and said, “Talking about Maria got you hard?”

Where had that come from? “No, but knowing I was still inside you did.”

“Oh.” She looked away, seeming embarrassed.

Weird, he thought, deciding to ignore it. “Come here,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and rolling so that she was on top of him and he was under her. He lifted her off of his body for a moment, reached down between them, and removed the used condom. He tossed it into the trashcan beside his bed and didn’t make any effort to put on a new one.

“Michael?” she asked.

“It’s okay,” he assured her.

“Well, uh, don’t you wanna be on top?”

Usually he did. Usually he loved the dominance. But not always. “I thought we’d switch it up,” he said. “You on top.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah, you’ll love it,” he promised her. “And I’ll love watching you.”

Even though she looked a little nervous, he knew she was excited, too.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, placing his hands on her hips, helping her to begin moving on him. “It’s mountain time.”

She gasped as she slid down his ‘mountain’ and began to move.

Gettin’ jiggy with it, Michael thought with a smirk as he pressed his hips up to meet hers. If Maria won that bet . . . he was going to be in big trouble.

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

Maria sat out in the living room on the couch and was flipping through the latest Victoria’s Secret catalog when she heard unmistakable sounds coming from Michael’s room.

“Oh! Michael! Yes!”

She grunted. Didn’t he ever get tired of hearing that? Did anyone ever say no, make it at least a little difficult on him? Everything he wanted just fell into his lap.

Except a good film internship.

“Oh, yes! Yes!” Liz kept on.

Vocal little thing, Maria thought, not at all surprised that her friend was becoming so experienced so quickly. She was, after all, dating the campus man-whore.

“Yes!”

“No,” Maria said. She didn’t want to hear all that, so she grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and turned the volume of the television way up. She set the remote back down, then, happily having drowned out the sex sounds, and was about to return to her magazine, when she actually noticed what was on TV.

“There are ten beautiful girls standing before me, but I have only nine photographs in my hand.”

Ooh, America’s Next Top Model, she thought, leaning forward, her interest piqued. She loved that overly dramatized show.

“You girls have got to understand,” host Tyra Banks said to her contestants, “modeling is more than just being a pretty face. I guarantee, it’ll be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.”

How hard can it be? Maria scoffed internally. Hell, I could do that. Get half-naked and smile for the camera? Hell, I already do that.

And then it dawned on her. Modeling. That was what she could do for a job. There was an agency in town. She passed it every day on her way to class. She wouldn’t be America’s Next Top Model by any means, but then again, she didn’t want to be. She just wanted to win the bet.

“Yes,” she said, liking the idea. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“Oh, yes!” Liz practically screamed.

Maria made a face. That was just weird.

Max poked his head out of his bedroom and gave her a confused look. “Are you . . .”

“Oh, no, Max, I’m not cumming,” she told him. “I’m just thinking.”

He nodded, but if it were possible, he looked even more confused.

“Just keep studying,” she told him.

He shrugged. “Okay.” He closed the door to his room again.

“Congratulations,” Tyra Banks said to one of her contestants. “You’re still in the running to be America’s Next Top Model.”

Maria smiled, thinking, Sometimes I’m so brilliant, I amaze myself.

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

Michael was just about to fall asleep when the door to his bedroom swung open. “Fuck,” he cursed, shielding his eyes from the light of the hallway as Liz curled up into him, moaning with discontent.

“Michael,” Maria whispered loudly. “Michael!”

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“Come here.”

“Screw that,” was his response.

“Michael! You know me. I’ll stand here in the doorway and bug you until you do it. So just . . . come here!”

He groaned and untangled himself from Liz. He sat up and looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was only midnight, but he was totally wiped out from the marathon sex and was in desperate need of restorative sleep. “Goddamn fuck, Maria,” he swore, forcing himself out of his bed. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“Put some pants on!” she hissed.

“Too sexy,” he said, locating some sweat pants on the floor. “I knew it. I’m just too sexy.” He yanked his pants on and walked out into the hallway with her, shutting the door to his room so that Liz could get back to sleep. He crossed his arms over his chest, still a little perturbed about being woken up. But if Maria was the one doing the waking, he could handle it. “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know, I just had this epiphany,” she replied nonchalantly. “I’m gonna get a job as a model. And you’re gonna help me.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yep. Come.”

He smirked. “What I do best.”

“Not cum, you perv. Come.” She went into her bedroom, motioning for him to follow her.

“So a model,” he contemplated. “That’s . . . sort of a dumb blonde thing.” He shrugged. “Well, if the boot fits.”

“Hey, it’s a job,” she reasoned.

“But I seem to recall you telling me you’d get a respectable job.”

“It’s respectable enough.”

He chuckled and shook his head. He should have known it was only a matter of time before Maria came up with this idea.

“Okay, here you go,” she said, picking up a digital camera from her bed and handing it to him.

He stared down at the camera and said, “I don’t get it, babe.”

She rolled her eyes. “I need to put together a portfolio of pictures. You need to be my photographer.”

This sounded as though it could take awhile, probably all night if she was as critical as he knew her to be about her photos. “What? Why me?”

“Because,” she whined, “Max is either asleep or studying, and Kyle’s . . . you know, being Kyle with Isabel and Tess. Trust me, I wouldn’t be asking you if you weren’t my last resort.”

“Maria, I’m fuckin’ tired.”

“Then you shouldn’t have had so much sex.” She shrugged unsympathetically.

“You’re a walking contradiction, you know that? Earlier tonight you basically told me to fuck like a bunny.”

“Which you did. Shouldn’t have trusted me.”

He shook his head and turned on the camera. “Alright, let’s get this shit over with.”

“It’s not shit, Michael. It’s a potential career.”

“For dumb blondes,” he smirked and aimed the camera at her, snapping a picture when she wasn’t even ready.

“Michael, don’t.”

He smiled. He was sure Maria would make a very pretty model, but it was capturing her at her candid moments that really thrilled him. “What pictures am I supposed to be taking?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. Figure it out. Taking pictures and making movies can’t be that different.”

“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically. In a sense, they were similar, but in another sense, they were like night and day. Back in high school, he had taken a photography course as an elective only to find that his passion for filmmaking was much greater.

“I do know I need a head shot,” she said. “And a bikini shot.”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly interested in that idea. Maria DeLuca rocked a bikini.

“Nude shot?” he volunteered.

“Oh my god, you’re like one big hormone!” she remarked.

Again he shrugged and said, “If the boot fits . . .”

“Stop with the boot thing,” she snapped. “Oh! That reminds me . . .” She ran to her closet, opened it, and took out a pair of white fuzzy boots that looked like they belonged to a polar bear. “I have to demonstrate a knowledge of high fashion,” she explained as she stepped into them.

“And those are supposed to be fashionable?” he teased.

She gave him an annoyed look and said, “Would you just shut up and take the pictures?”

He stared at her for a moment as she turned to examine herself in her full-length mirror. “Why am I helping you?” he wondered aloud. She didn’t seem to hear him, and he was sort of glad about that, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

As he had expected, the ‘photo shoot’ dragged on well into the night. Even by 3:00 a.m., they only had the first four shots she wanted: a head shot, a sexy dance pose, one of her lying on the bed, and, his particular favorite, one of her laughing. That one had actually been a mistake. He had caught her in mid-laugh and thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

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

Isabel crept up the stairs when she heard yelling that night, eager to see what Michael and Maria were fighting about now. There was never a dull moment with those two.

She cautiously poked her head into the kitchen in case they were throwing objects at each other and saw Maria stomping around in nothing more than a string bikini, thong style. Michael had a camera in his hands and was trying to take pictures of her, but he was preoccupied with the yelling.

Oh my, Isabel thought. This looks sort of . . . kinky.

“Why won’t you do it?” Michael yelled.

“Because! I don’t want to! Not in front of you!”

“Maria, I’ve seen you naked. Taking your top off . . . not such a big deal.”

“Michael, men may like it, but there could be women looking at my portfolio. They’d think it’s slutty.”

“As opposed to the thong bikini, which is just full of class,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh my god, give me that camera! I wanna throw it at your head!”

Isabel laughed, causing both Michael and Maria to turn and look at her.

“What’s up, Iz?” Michael said with a nod of his head.

“I don’t know. You tell me. This looks . . . interesting.”

“Oh, no, it’s just . . . I’m trying to put together a portfolio to bring to a modeling agency,” Maria explained. “Yeah, I’d go get a professional to do it, but it’s way too expensive. So I have to make do with this.” She pointed at Michael, obviously irritated with him. What else was new?

“I should be sleeping right now,” he said. “Do you know how tired I am? Do you wanna take over, Isabel?”

“Uh, no, not really,” she answered honestly. “I should be sleeping, too.”

“Kyle and Tess keeping you awake?” Maria guessed.

“No, actually . . . you guys are.”

“Oh, we’re sorry,” Maria apologized at once. “Well, I am, anyway. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Michael admitted.

Isabel laughed a little. “Well, I guess I’m up now. Anything I can do to help?”

Maria looked at her, seeming surprised by her offer. “Are you kidding me? You’d actually just help for helping’s sake? I wouldn’t have to force you like Michael?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Maria smiled. “Fabulous. Okay, I need you to get on the phone.”

“With who?” Isabel asked.

“With Alex.”

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

“I’m goin’ to bed!” Michael announced at 5:00 a.m. once he and Maria had finally worked out the bikini picture.

“Stay there forever! We don’t care!” Maria called after him, waving him off. She shook her head and turned to Isabel. “Okay, you ready?”

“Sure,” Isabel said. “I don’t get it, though. Why do I have to be the one to get Alex over here in the middle of the night? I doubt he’ll find me that convincing.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Maria mumbled under her breath. If only Isabel knew . . . how did she not know? Alex was so not the mysterious type. How could anyone be so oblivious?

Isabel picked up the phone and dialed the number Maria had written down for her. She leaned against the counter and examined her fingernails absentmindedly as the phone rang, and Maria watched in anticipation. She needed Alex to get his ass over there and edit those photos on the computer, make them look professional. She was turning in that portfolio tomorrow no matter what, but she couldn't turn it in unedited. No way.

“Alex,” Isabel finally said. “Hi. Sorry, I don’t mean to wake you up. It’s Isabel.”

Maria could practically hear Alex shoot up in his bed, his breathing quickening. She rolled her eyes.

“I was wondering if you might come over to Michael and Maria’s house. I really need your help with something important.”

Maria leaned in and listened closely as Alex blabbered, “Yeah. Oh, yeah. No problem. Sure, Isabel. Anything for you, Isabel. Yeah, you don’t have to ask me twice. Yeah, yeah. Oh, yeah.”

“Great,” Isabel said, laughing a little. “So I’ll see you soon?” She smiled. “Okay. Bye, Alex.” She hung up the phone a moment later and said to Maria, “He’s on his way.”

“Thanks, Isabel.”

“Hey, glad to help. Although I’m not sure why you couldn’t just ask him yourself.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t have had the same effect.”

Isabel shrugged, and just as she did, Kyle called to her from downstairs.

“Isabel? Where’s my second girl? Isabel?”

“Oh! Kyle! I’m here!” she exclaimed, scurrying back downstairs to be with him and Tess.

Maria shook her head, wondering how long that relationship would last. It seemed to be on solid ground so far, but Maria knew quite well that feelings sometimes changed.

Deciding to focus on her portfolio, she pushed the thoughts aside and waited for Alex to arrive.

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

Michael felt Liz move out of bed that morning, and it woke him up. Three hours of sleep, he thought as he glanced at the clock. Fucking wonderful.

He thought about joining his girlfriend in the shower that morning, but honestly, he felt too exhausted to do anything. He headed out into the kitchen while she was in the shower, seeking coffee of the most energizing variety.

He wasn’t surprised to find Alex sitting at the kitchen table on Maria’s laptop computer, messing around with some of the portfolio pictures. Maria sat beside him, her face and arms pressed against the table, her lips gently parted as she slept.

“What time did she conk out?” Michael asked his friend.

“About an hour ago,” Alex replied. “Hey, I’m almost done with the pictures, man.”

Michael grunted. “That’s great. I . . . don’t care.”

“Well, I heard you took ‘em,” Alex said. “I guess I don’t really care, either, though. I woke up this morning, got a sultry phone call from Miss Isabel Evans, and I came here only to find out . . . I was duped. Big-time. Isabel didn’t need my help. Maria did. Not to say that Maria isn’t hot. She’s just yours.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Michael wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right.

“Nothin’,” Alex said quickly. “You know, I have no one to blame but myself. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Got my hopes up. What else is new?”

Michael shrugged, moving forward with the conversation. “I don’t know. I got roped into helping out, too. Maria . . . she’s a manipulative little bitch.”

“I heard that you jerk,” she muttered, not moving.

Michael grinned as an idea occurred to him. “Dude, hand me my camera,” he said quietly.

Alex handed Michael his video camera from where it was sitting on the table, and Michael quickly turned it on and began to record. He sat down in the empty chair on the other side of Maria and zoomed in on her face. Her make-up was sort of smeared. She was snoring just a little. Oh, she’d hate him for this, but it was just too perfect of an opportunity to pass up.

“Maria?” he said quietly. “Can you hear me?”

She shifted slightly and said, “Mmm . . . hmm, yeah.”

He smiled. She was definitely talking in her sleep. He could tell. “Can I ask you something, Maria?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she replied sleepily. “Just not math.”

“Okay, no math,” he agreed. “Maria. Maria?”

“Hmm?”

He zoomed in on her sleeping face again and asked, “Who’s the hottest guy you know?”

“Umm . . .” She wrinkled her forehead as if in thought and answered, “Michael.”

He grinned, nodding his head at Alex, who had to hold his fist to his mouth to keep from laughing. “That’s true,” he said. “You’re right, Maria. Good job.”

“Do I get a gold star?”

“Yep.” He zoomed back out and thought of something else to ask. “So are you dreamin’?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And what’re you dreamin’ about?”

She smiled and started laughing in her sleep. Her answer didn’t surprise him. “Sex.”

“Really?” He gave Alex a sarcastic look. “I never would’ve guessed.”

She kept laughing, sounding drunk in her sleep.

“What kind of sex?” he asked her.

“The good kind.”

“Now is this like sex with a girl or a guy?”

“Guy, dummie,” she said. “You’re a dummie.”

“I’m a-I’m a dummie,” he acknowledged. “So, uh . . . this guy . . . anyone I know?”

“Uh . . . yeah.”

“Yeah? Max?”

She tried to shake her head but just ended up hitting it on the table a couple of times. “Ow,” she said, still not waking up. “No, not Max.”

Interesting, Michael thought. “So who is it, Maria?”

“I can’t tell you.”

He looked up at Alex and mouthed Kyle to him since he knew that Maria used to have a crush on him way back when. Alex just rolled his eyes.

“It’s really good,” she said. “We’re in . . . it’s . . . doggie style.”

“Whoa,” Michael said. “Doggie style. Nice, Maria.”

She giggled. “I know.”

He zoomed alternated zooming in and out in rapid succession before going back to the standard zoom window and asking one last question. “So, you gonna wake up with cum between your legs?”

She grinned and said, “Maybe.” Then her grin lessened and she said, “No. No, what . . . what?” She snapped away, jolting up from the table, opening her eyes, and looking around in confusion and squinting against the light. “What’re you-what’re you asking—oh my god, are you filming me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god.” She made a face and stretched her body upward, making a sound of tiredness. “Mmph. Was I talking?”

“Oh yeah.”

“What’d I say?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, setting the camera directly in front of her face, “just random words. Michael. Sex. Doggie style.”

“What? Ew.”

“No, you didn’t exactly say that,” he assured her. “But you did say I was the hottest guy you know. And now it's on film, so you can never take it back.”

“Oh, great,” she mumbled, pressing her head into her hands. “Just what you need, another ego boost.”

“Thanks, baby,” he said.

She groaned and swatted at his video camera. “Would you get that thing out of my face?”

He laughed, still recording. No, he couldn't get it out of her face. If there was ever a day when he stopped filming Maria, he was going to have to start filming something else. And that didn’t sound very fun.









TBC . . .

-April (I actually used to have a friend who would talk in her sleep like that! Just full-on, dazed conversations! lol)

(Damn, I wanted to leave you with a cliffhanger ending, but it didn't really work out. Oh, well. That's all until the afternoon of March 23rd, guys! I'm happy to be going on spring break, but life without the internet sucks! See you when I get back! Well, not SEE, but . . . you get the point.)

[April]

Hi, everyone! I'm back! I had a great spring break, and I managed to get a lot of writing done. (About 90-100 pages, I think! Yea!) But I definitely missed my Internet!

Thanks for all the great feedback! Since you've all been waiting so patiently . . . here's the next update!

ETA: Happy Easter!







Part 32






Fiona’s Model Management. That was the agency in town that Maria set her sights on. She called in earlier that morning and scheduled a time to meet with the executive agent, Fiona Miller herself. She made Michael drive her that afternoon, even though he obviously didn’t want to come.

“Why do I have to be here again?” he groaned as he got out of the car.

“Because I know you,” she explained, leading the way towards the front entrance of the building. “You won’t believe I can get a job until you actually see me get a job.” She whirled around to face him, smiling confidently. “So feast your eyes, buddy. Maria-job-getting.” She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, then turned and skipped into the building. He followed behind much less enthusiastically.

Inside, the agency was bustling. Models were running around like nearly naked chickens with their heads cut off. Agents were bitching and complaining, and photographers were making crazy demands. Maria slinked over towards the reception desk to talk to one of the secretaries. “Hi,” she said. “My name’s Maria DeLuca. I called earlier to meet with Fiona.”

“Oh, right. You were supposed to be here at 2:30.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s 2:45.”

“Oh.” Fifteen minutes late. She didn’t see what the big deal was. Punctuality? Whatever.

The secretary sighed and said, “I suppose Fiona could still squeeze you in. Let me get her on the phone and let her know you’re here.”

“Okay.” Maria waited as patiently as she could while the secretary placed her call. She looked up at Michael and noticed him checking out some of the female models.

“See anything you like?” she asked him.

“Not really,” he replied much to her surprise. “This is like anorexia central. You’re a lot prettier than all these girls.”

She smiled, looking away from him as she felt a blush creep to her cheeks. God, Michael . . .

“Okay, I’ll tell her.” The secretary hung up the phone and returned her focus to Maria. “Fiona’s not happy about the hold-up, but she says she’ll still meet with you. Her office is on the second floor, to the left.”

“Okay, thanks.” Maria grabbed her portfolio and headed towards the stairs. Michael followed her up to the second floor and to Fiona’s office. Maria knocked on the door, feeling completely calm—it was modeling; how hard could it be? She looked up at Michael and said, “I can’t believe we were late. How slow were you driving?”

He smirked, and she knew that he had been driving slow on purpose in an attempt to make her late.

“I hate you,” she said with a glare.

“No, you don’t.”

No, she didn’t.

Finally, Fiona opened the door, an annoyed look on her face. “I said come in. Didn’t you hear me?”

“No,” Maria answered honestly, taken aback by the other woman’s immediate hostility.

“I had to get up from my chair . . .” Fiona shook her head and waddled back towards her desk.

Maria raised an eyebrow as she surveyed the other woman. Fiona Miller was fat and ugly and, in her not-so-humble opinion, could use any workout she could get. It was hard to believe this woman was running a modeling agency.

“Well, come in,” Fiona said, sounding annoyed as well.

Maria trotted into the office, feeling a little more nervous now. This woman was a bitch with a capital B. She felt a little better, though, strange as it was, knowing that Michael was there with her.

“So you wanna be a model,” Fiona asked, though it didn’t really sound like a question.

Maria answered anyway. “Well, actually, I’d like to be a dancer but--”

“No, you want to be a model.”

Maria nodded her head slowly, starting to figure this abrasive woman out. “Yes.”

“Of course. Who doesn’t these days?” Fiona sighed impatiently and said, “Let me see your portfolio.”

Maria handed it to her, anxious to see what she thought about it. The pictures she had taken were good. Of that much she was sure. But they most definitely weren’t professional. Alex had been on the computer a long time editing them, adding some effects. They looked good, but Fiona was obviously hard to impress.

Fiona flipped through the portfolio astoundingly fast as if she had seen it all before. Maria felt a little offended. Hell, she had worked hard on that. Granted, she had thrown it together over the course of one night, but she had still worked hard. Had this woman been anyone else besides a potential boss, she would have ripped into her.

“Hmm,” Fiona said. “Who took these pictures?”

“Oh, just . . . this guy,” Maria said, motioning to Michael.

Fiona looked at him and asked, “And you are?”

“Michael,” he replied.

“And you’re a photographer?”

“Filmographer, actually.”

“Michael’s just . . .” Maria couldn’t think of a word to describe him.

“A friend,” Michael filled in.

“Oh, please, don’t give yourself that much credit,” she said.

“Well, it’s true. I’ve been your friend for eight years.”

“Uh, you’ve been a thorn in my side for eight years,” she corrected. She couldn’t help it. Arguing came so naturally. She turned back to Fiona and said, “Just ignore him. He’s just . . .”

“A boyfriend?” Fiona filled in.

“Oh god no,” Maria spat out.

“No, no,” Michael mumbled in agreement.

Fiona closed the portfolio and handed it back to Maria. “You need work,” she said. “Your thighs are much too big.”

“Wait a minute, her thighs?” Michael cut in. “Her thighs? Too big? She’s got perfect thighs.”

"Michael, do not ruin this for me," she warned.

Fiona ignored him and said, “You need to lose weight, Madonna.”

"Maria," she corrected, forcing herself to remain calm.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell her to lose weight,” Michael barked. “Maria, let’s get outta here. This is stupid.”

“Oh, no, Michael, I am not leaving,” she growled defiantly. “I know what you’re doing. You see that I’m on my way to winning the bet and you’re trying to stop me.”

“No, I see that this woman’s stupid and doesn’t know a beautiful girl when she sees one.”

“What?” she said, taken aback by that word. Beautiful?

“What?” he said in return.

Fiona cleared her throat and said. “Hmm, call me crazy, honey, but I’m willing to give you a chance. Even though you're short."

“Really?” Maria couldn’t contain her excitement. She squealed. “So what magazine do I get to be on the cover of first? Vogue or Cosmo?”

Fiona cackled. “First, you get to do some test shots. I’m not signing you on at the agency until I see some potential.”

“Oh. Okay,” Maria said, her excitement diminishing greatly.

“So you two can head on back to the dressing room and get ready.”

Maria scrunched her forehead up and asked in confusion, “Two?”

“Yes, both of you.”

“What?” Michael spat. “No, I’m not here for that. I’m just the chauffeur.”

“Yeah, he’s just here to . . . be annoying,” Maria said, waving him off. “Look at him. He doesn’t even look like a model.”

“He looks like more of a model than you,” Fiona said harshly. “How tall are you anyway? 5’3?”

Maria stomped her foot in frustration and informed her, “5’4 and a half.”

“And you have your thighs . . .”

Maria made a sound of pure frustration, unable to accept that this was happening. “But he didn’t even bring a portfolio!” she protested.

“He doesn’t have to. He’s a gorgeous man.”

“Well, that’s true,” Michael said immodestly. “Everyone knows that.”

“Oh my god, no, this is so unfair!” Maria whined.

“Honey, what Fiona wants, Fiona gets,” Fiona said. “And I want to see more of the two of you together. You have an interesting dynamic. It should be explored.”

Maria stared at her in disbelief. She shouldn’t have brought Michael. She really shouldn’t have brought him. “He doesn’t even wanna be a model,” she protested.

“Neither do you,” Fiona pointed out. “Listen, I’m not one for negotiations. Either you do a test shoot together, or neither one of you gets a job. Take your pick.”

Maria glanced up at Michael, totally unhappy. He didn’t look particularly thrilled himself, but he wasn’t running out of the office screaming either.

She turned back to that devil woman Fiona and choked out one word. “Okay.”

“Good. Go change,” Fiona ordered, pointing to the door.

Her shoulders slumping, Maria sulked off. Michael followed her, leaning down to say quietly. “Great. Nice job, Maria. Now I’m gonna miss the hockey game.”

And now I’m gonna go out of my mind, Maria thought, certain that one of these days, she really was.

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

Maria walked out of her dressing room and out of the make-up room dreading the photo shoot that lay ahead of her. Dreading it because . . . she wasn’t totally dreading it. It barely made sense to herself, even, but knowing that she would get to heat things up for the lens with Michael . . . that was an okay thought. And because she was allowing herself to think it was okay, she was dreading it.

Their photo set-up was a plain grey background and grey tile floor. Nothing even remotely America’s Next Top Model-y. She looked into Michael’s eyes as he came out of his dressing room, mainly to avoid looking at his bare chest or the outline of his lower half in those swim-trunks. Fiona was right; he was a gorgeous guy.

That bitch made it a point to be at the photo shoot herself. Maria had a feeling that she would be doing more of the directing than the photographer.

“Okay, let’s get a move on,” Fiona said. “Time is money. You two, go ahead and lie down there.”

Maria untied the white robe she was wearing and handed it to her wardrobe assistant. Her wardrobe wasn’t much. Just a bikini. Luckily Michael had seen her in less, otherwise she would have felt very self-conscious.

“How are we supposed to lay?” Michael asked.

“You need to lay behind her,” Fiona told him.

“Basically spoon with her, but prop yourself up,” the photographer elaborated.

Oh, just the thought of spooning with Michael . . . she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. She couldn’t let him see that she was freaking out about this.

He lay down on his right side, and she settled in front of him, trying to remember when they had ever been in such an intimate position. There had been a couple of instances where she had fallen asleep in his bed, but nothing so sexually oriented as this photo shoot.

“Move closer,” Fiona instructed.

She expected Michael to move maybe a fraction of an inch closer, but to her surprise, he moved right up into her, pressing the entire length of his body against hers. She gasped slightly, hoping he didn’t notice it.

“You smell good,” he whispered in her ear.

“Shut up.” She really didn’t need to hear that, not when she was already pretty decently aroused.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“Okay, give me expression,” Fiona said. “Give me a look on your face that expresses how you feel right now.”

Maria refused to look aroused, so she settled for looking pissed off. Which she was! In addition to being aroused, she was pissed off, because modeling was supposed to be her job, not Michael’s.

Had she had eyes in the back of her head, she would have noticed Michael’s intrigued, raised eyebrow expression as he looked down at her body.

“Okay, that’s not working,” Fiona said. “Try to look like you’re enjoying yourselves.”

Oh, I am, Maria thought. She and Michael both plastered blatantly fake smiles on their faces.

“Oh god, not that,” Fiona said. “Bobby, help me out.”

The photographer, Bobby, put down his camera and said, “Okay, you’re both great looking people. You’re basically naked and lying pressed up against each other. How would you feel?”

All of a sudden, Maria felt Michael’s free hand smooth up her bare leg and over her hip to rest right on her pelvis, his fingers mere inches away from her center of pleasure. She closed her eyes, secretly loving the feel of his hands on her.

“Great,” Bobby said as he began to take pictures. “That’s great.”

“Finally,” Fiona grumbled.

“Maria, open your eyes,” Bobby instructed.

She did, but the moment he pressed his face against her neck, she closed them again. She could feel his lips pressed against her skin, not kissing her, but just there. She could feel his breath, and it made her shiver.

“Maria, open your eyes,” Bobby said again.

She did, feeling her breathing become a bit more labored as Michael smoothed his hand over her stomach and circled his index finger around her navel. Oh god, he had such talented hands.

“Very sensual,” Bobby said. “Very sexual. Keep it coming.”

Sexual, Maria thought, recalling bits and pieces of the dream she had been having that morning when Michael had been filming her. It was sort of hazy, but she was fairly certain it had been a sex dream about Michael. And had it gone on a little bit longer, she probably would have cum.

The camera flashed over and over again as Bobby took his pictures, but Maria could barely notice. The longer the photo shoot when on, the more she forgot about where they were and what they were doing. All she could think about was Michael, Michael’s hands, Michael’s breath on her neck. She actually whimpered in disappointment when he lifted his head, but then she smiled when he reached up and stroked her hair.

“Eyes open, Maria,” he teased.

“No, I think it’s better closed after all,” Fiona said.

Maria could barely hear them. She felt one of Michael’s legs gently urge hers apart and slip in between. She turned to face him, still smiling, still with her eyes closed, and leaned her head back against his shoulder. It just felt so good.

She wasn’t really doing any work as far as she could tell. No actual modeling. He was doing everything; she was just getting really turned on.

“Alright, that’s a wrap.”

He didn’t move away from her, so she made no effort to move away from him.

“We’re done,” Bobby said again.

“Alright you two, we’re done,” Fiona snapped. “That would be your cue to separate.”

No, Maria thought as she felt Michael disentangle himself from her and got to his feet. Get yourself under control, she told herself as she did the same.

“That was surprisingly good work,” Fiona said as she approached them. “The passion was just outrageous.” She smiled. She actually smiled. “Congratulations. You two are the newest members of Fiona’s Model Management. One wrong move and you're fired.”

Maria put her robe back on, making sure not to look at Michael. She didn’t want him to see how flushed she was.

Fiona walked away, and Michael just said. “Huh.”

Maria tied her robe around her midsection and said to Michael, “You suck,” before heading off into the dressing room to request some alone time and put her fingers to work. Someone had to finish what he had started.

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

“I’m just saying, you never would’ve gotten the job if it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh, I totally would have!” Maria insisted.

“No, you heard that Fiona bitch. She said we had to do the shoot together or else.”

She grunted, tossing her portfolio and her purse into the chair. “Yeah, you’re gonna make a great model, calling your agent a bitch.”

“Oh, come on, she is.” He knew she had to be thinking the same thing. “Like saying you had to lose weight? What the hell was that?” He plopped down on the couch, not liking that one bit. Maria had a perfect body, in his opinion, and shouldn’t change a thing.

He turned on the TV just as the sound of someone clearing his throat came from the kitchen. He turned his head and noticed that Kyle was standing here. Had he been standing there that whole time? He wasn’t sure. He’d been too busy talking to Maria.

“Can I ask what the hell’s goin’ on?” Kyle asked.

“I got a job,” Michael replied.

“So did I,” Maria added emphatically.

“Because of me.”

“Not because of him. In spite of him.”

Kyle didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted to know, “What kind of job?”

That was the part where Michael shut up.

“Modeling,” Maria replied.

“Oh, good Lord,” Kyle said dramatically.

“No, it’s not that bad, really,” Maria assured him. “You get paid, like, five-hundred bucks per ad you shoot—seriously—so I figure if we both shoot, like, an ad a week, that’s a thousand bucks each week.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s not bad at all,” Kyle agreed. “How’d you get into this, man?” he asked Michael.

“I got roped into it,” Michael replied. Though he knew he had his fair share of good looks, modeling wasn’t something he ever would have pursued by choice. It was sort of metrosexual. As long as he got to keep doing steamy photo shoots like the one he and Maria had just done, though, he could handle it.

“Well, that’s good, guys,” Kyle said. “I’m gonna go ahead and pay off the rest of the car today, but you guys can pay me back this time.”

“Can’t wait,” Maria mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m stoked for that,” Michael added, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You guys are impossible,” Kyle muttered, heading down to his seclusion downstairs.

Maria sighed and took off her jacket. “Well, at least I won the bet,” she said.

His eyes immediately shot up from the screen to look at her. “How do you figure?”

“Hello, el stupido, the bet was whether or not I could get a job in a week. I totally did.”

“Yeah, but I did, too,” he pointed out.

“Besides the point.”

“No, not besides the point. You wouldn’t have fucking landed the job if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Fine, maybe not,” she admitted. “But it’s not my fault if you made the mistake of helping me.” She shrugged, smiled, and proudly proclaimed. “You lose, Michael. You’re a losing loser who loses.”

“And you’re a bitching bitch who bitches.”

“Knock, knock,” she said, continuing the joke by herself. “Who’s there? Rosy. Rosy who? Rosy palm, and she’s looking for you.” She grinned and pranced off down the hallway, squealing with delight over her victory.

She did win, Michael thought, an internal admission of his defeat. The gravity of the consequence that lay before him hit him like a load of bricks, and he actually felt his cock twitch in response. “Oh, fuck.”







TBC . . .

-April (Ah, it's good to be back!)

[April]

pookie76: Yes, Maria is for sure still a little irresponsible. She's definitely never going to be the most responsible person in the world, but you'll see her grow up a little as the fic progresses. And actually, Michael has to go a whole MONTH without sex now, so we'll see if that helps him use his brain more, because you're right, he's definitely not using his brain at the moment. Thanks for reading!
Tine: Are M+M only getting jobs as a couple now? Well, not necessarily, but they'll definitely be asked to do photo shoots together. Maria by herself is pretty passionate. Michael by himself is pretty passionate. The two of them together is explosive! Thanks for the feedback!
gnrkrystle: The tension is unbearable, I know. Michael and Maria are going to start to find themselves in a few sexual situations without even really trying.
Alien_Friend: Oh, first I leave, then you leave! Talk about bad timing. But yes, you'll have parts to read when you come back. I always look forward to reading your feedback!
Mag: I knew you would be happy about the way the bet turned out. lol about God being against Michael and Liz.
Rice Krispy: I hate to tell you, but Max and Liz aren't going to see those pictures. I will tell you that it's going to take something HUGE for Max and Liz to finally open their eyes. And that's all I'm saying about that!
cassie: Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed the last part! And I'm glad you like M+M's chemistry in this. I must say, it's been an absolute joy to write.
tequathisy: Oh, sorry, Liz isn't going to get to see those pictures. But even if she did . . . well, you know Passion Liz. She would just be blind to it. Thanks for reading!

CONGRATS, EVERYONE! YOU HAVE REACHED PAGE 300! SUCH LOYAL READERS!








Part 33







“So when you do the jump, you just have to, like, really throw yourself into it. Otherwise it just looks like, like poo, basically.” Maria tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to think of a better way of explaining what she considered to be a fairly easy jump to some of the members of the dance team at practice that day. “So you just do your shanay prep, then you have to jump off of your left foot. Extend your right leg, and I mean like totally extend it, and just have your upper body and your back leg follow. It’s just like . . .” She demonstrated quickly, unsure why it wasn’t clicking with some of the girls. “You just have to go for it.”

Just then, someone’s cell phone rang shrilly, interrupting everything. Liz gave her an apologetic look and scurried off towards the bleachers to get it.

“Since when do you have a cell phone?” Maria asked the team’s captain.

“Since yesterday. Michael got it for me,” Liz replied. She got her phone out of her purse and smiled when she read the caller ID. “Speaking of . . .” She flipped it open and headed off towards the other side of the gymnasium. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, baby,” Maria mimicked quietly. She told herself to focus and remembered that there were seven other girls who were waiting for further instruction. “Okay, so just practice the jump a couple of times, okay? I’ll count you off. On five, six, seven, eight. Turn one, two, jump three, four, five, hold six, seven, eight. Again, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” She stopped counting aloud then and simply clapped out a pace with her hands so she could concentrate more on watching them. A few of them were getting it. A few were still really struggling.

She heard Liz giggle loudly and lost her focus on the team.

“And you can do that over the phone?” Liz said. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe it.”

What the hell? Maria thought, immediately suspicious of what Liz and Michael were talking about. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. She slowed down her claps and listened closer.

“Well, I can’t talk that loud,” Liz said. “I’m at practice.”

Okay, that does it! Maria thought, stopping clapping altogether. “Okay, guys, just hold on a minute,” she told her dancers. “Just . . .” She marched over to Liz and said, “Give me that!” seizing her phone from her.

“And right now,” Michael was saying on the other end, “just imagine I’m undressing you.”

“I’d rather not, asshole!” she roared.

“What? Maria?”

“Yeah, I confiscated Liz’s phone. Nice try with the phone sex, but I’m not stupid!”

Liz bit her bottom lip and just sneaked off to join the rest of the group.

“Hey, the deal was no sex,” he reminded her.

“Exactly! So what’s with the whole ‘imagine I’m undressing you’ bit?”

“That’s phone sex! It’s different, Maria!”

“Hello?! No! Sex! As in no sex at all!”

“Hey, that’s not fair. You can’t change the terms last minute. You never specified.”

“And I never said just regular sex, either. I meant all forms of sex. That means no phone sex, no anal sex, no oral sex . . .”

“No oral sex?!” he shrieked. “Holy hell, Maria! How am I supposed to live?”

“I don’t know! Just . . . you know what, shut up! You’re pissing me off!” She hung up on him, fuming with anger, and groaned in exasperation. She turned back to the dance team and noticed that all of them, except for Liz, were just standing there staring at her. “What’re you guys looking at?” she barked. “Come on, hop to it! Five, six, seven, eight!”

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

Michael was in absolute agony. Liz came over that night, but they couldn’t do anything. Not anything worthwhile, anyway. Maria was being a tyrant when it came to enforcing the bet. No oral sex. He still couldn’t get over that.

“Mmm, we should’ve never started having sex,” Liz murmured as she cuddled against him in his bed that evening.

“What?” Where was the logic in that?

“Well, now it’s so hard to go without,” she explained.

“Oh, that’s true,” he agreed, stroking his hand up and down her back. It had only been one day, and already he felt as though he were about to die. He had masturbated at least three times that day, and he still felt unsatisfied.

Only thirty more days to go, he thought morosely.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” she said.

“Oh, yeah? How so?”

“Well, now we can do other stuff,” she said. “Like go out on dates.” She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Have conversations.”

“Go insane with arousal,” he added as she licked at his ear.

She laughed. “No, I’m serious, though. I would hate for us to be one of those couples that’s just all about sex.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “‘Cause that would suck.” Truthfully, though he wouldn’t completely hate that. “Liz, you know . . . you know it’s not just about that for me, right? I mean . . .” He felt weird saying that. It was so out-of-character. “I used to just sort of . . . you know, with girls, but not with you, alright? You’re my first girlfriend, so . . . it’s gotta be different. I’m gonna make it different. First girlfriend.”

She smiled and pressed her hand against his chest, subtly fiddling with the buttons. “Well, that works out well,” she said, “since you’re my first boyfriend.”

He smiled up at her, trying to remember a time when he’d thought she was weird. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like it. Nowadays, he just thought she was a pretty good girl. She was good for him. Maybe a little weird sometimes still, but he could deal with it.

She leaned in to kiss his mouth just as she trailed her hand down his chest and his abdomen to crawl beneath his jeans. He broke the kiss off sharply when she grasped his length in her hand and said, “What’re you doin’?”

“Well, as far as I know,” she said, “this isn’t breaking any rules.”

He smiled, happy that she’d figured this one out by herself. “You’re catchin’ on fast,” he told her, leaning in to capture her lips again.

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

Maria went out with Max to The Lightning Strike club that night only to find herself trying to subtly glance at his watch every five minutes. It wasn’t that she was bored; it was just that she . . . wasn’t exactly thrilled. From the moment they had ordered their drinks and sat down at a table, they had spent most of their time trying not to be awkward around each other.

“It’s pretty . . . lively here tonight,” Max commented, looking around.

“Yeah, yeah,” she agreed hastily, wishing he would say more. Because she honestly had nothing to say.

After another ten or so seconds of silence, he said, “So I guess this is our first one-on-one date.”

“Yeah,” she said again, feeling like a broken record saying that. It was strange. She complained so much about double dates and group dates with Michael, but now she wished he were there.

“I’m having a good time,” Max said.

“That’s . . . good,” she said, unable to lie and say that she was having a good time as well. Because she totally wasn’t.

“I just . . . I don’t know, I wanna make sure that nothing’s changed between us,” he said. “I mean . . . obviously things have changed, but I think it’s for the better. Right?”

“Oh, of course,” she said.

“We haven’t really gotten to talk about it.”

She laughed nervously, unused to this whole dating thing. Most of the time, she and a guy just had sex, went their separate ways for awhile, then maybe had sex again a week later. Maybe not. Now she was stuck having to talk about it.

“I mean, was I . . . was I okay?” he asked.

“You were . . . you were great, Max,” she told him sincerely. “I’m sorry I kinda just . . . pounced on you.” She shook her head, regretting her impulsive behavior that night. “I just . . . had an urge. That’s all.”

“Oh, that’s fine by me,” he said. “And if you have an urge again . . . you know I won’t say no.”

She smiled. He was such a nice guy, so sweet and innocent. She didn’t want to be the one to corrupt him.

“And we’re friends no matter what,” he added.

“Exactly.”

“Yep.”

She nodded her head silently, feeling the silence settle over them again. Oh, no.

Luckily, it didn’t last long.

“Uh, you wanna dance?” Max asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she said.

“Okay.” He got up from the table and held out his hand to her like a perfect gentleman. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor. He tried to go back into the corner, but she pulled him out into the middle of the floor instead. If she was going to dance, she was going to be seen. It was only natural.

Max wasn’t the greatest dancer in the world. He was a little awkward on his feet, didn’t really have a natural rhythm or a whole lot of coordination. She danced with her back towards him, taking his hands and placing them on her hips. They danced like that for awhile, but there was just no stimulation. Not for her anyway. When she accidently brushed her backside against his front, though, she noticed that he was more than a little stimulated.

She spun around then and placed her arms on his shoulders, still moving to the beat, still turning him on. She would have given anything to feel turned on.

She trailed her hands down his chest, all the way down to hook into the belt loops of his jeans. She slithered down his body then, swaying her hips as she did so, and then slithered back up again. Max just smiled at the maneuver. He wasn’t even dancing anymore.

“Maria!”

She turned when she heard a few guys say her name. “Hey, guys,” she said, finding two guys standing near her. She didn’t recognize them, but she figured she had slept with them at some point. The uncommitted part of her wanted to grab hold of the two of them and bring them home to fuck away her problems. But she couldn’t do that. Max.

“Hey, what’s up?” one guy said. The other guy nodded his head at Max and said, “What’s up, Evans?”

Max just smiled shyly in return.

“So, Maria, havin’ fun tonight?” one of the guys asked.

“Oh, of course,” she lied.

“Cool, cool. So is Liz here?”

She couldn’t stop a surprised look from appearing on her face. “Liz?”

“Yeah, Liz Parker. You’re her friend, right?”

She’s my friend, Maria thought, feeling a little frustrated for some reason at that moment. “Yeah, but she’s actually at home with Michael tonight.”

“Oh. Dammit,” one guy said, sounding disappointed. “Alright, well, you guys have a nice night.”

“Huh,” she said, attempting to smile as the guys disappeared again into the crowd. What was that about? Since when did people start looking for Liz? Since when did people even know who Liz was?

Probably since she had started dating Michael.

Max didn’t seem to detect how upset she was, because he just wrapped his arms around her waist again and resumed dancing. She did as well, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. It never had been.

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

Maria yearned for the simplicity she had once felt. She wanted things to be the way they once had been, when everything had been cut and dried, black and white. Popularity. Sex. Dancing. Good. Feelings. Relationships. Michael. Bad. She wanted that simplicity again. She wanted it back. That was why she pushed Max back into his bedroom, kissing him savagely, clawing at his shirt, rubbing herself against him. Because sex was one of the good things.

Sex was simple.

“Maria,” Max murmured against her lips. “Maria, should we talk, or--”

She silenced him by ripping his shirt in half, yanking it off his shoulders. Slapping her hands against his bare chest, she pushed him back onto the bed. She gazed at him her eyes narrowed in concentration.

Sex was very simple.

She peeled off her own shirt, tossed it to the floor, and jumped on top of him, hoping to make the simplicity last all night.

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

Maria would have slept until noon that next morning if her cell phone hadn’t rang. Groaning, she propped herself up and looked around. She was in Max’s bedroom. He was lying beside her, naked as the day he was born, and completely oblivious to the sound that had awoken her. Poor guy. He had been worked to his limit last night.

She sprawled out atop him and reached down onto the floor where she had discarded her jeans. She stuck her hand in the pocket where she kept her phone, took it out, flipped it open, and answered the call groggily. “Hello?”

“Maria, it’s Fiona. I booked a job for you today. Get here pronto.”

Before Maria could even ask what the job was, Fiona hung up the phone. Well, Maria thought, glancing at the clock, she certainly didn’t leave much room for debate.

But it was only 8:00 a.m. And she and Max had been up doing the nasty until 4:00.

She groaned again and lay her head back down atop the pillow. Life was just not fair sometimes.

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

Michael walked slowly through the mall, feasting his eyes on what was truly a sight to see. All decked out in a blue evening gown, Maria stood on a rotating platform, her right arm outstretched in the direction of a sleek black convertible. She had an oh-so-fake smile plastered on her face, but she looked hot as hell.

When the platform rotated in his direction and she saw him looking up at her, her fake smile immediately dissolved into a death-glare, and she dropped her arm to her side.

He just looked up at her, smiling, trying not to laugh.

“What?” she roared. “I’m doing my fucking job.”

“Yes, I see that,” he said. “I heard you were here, but I just had to come see it for myself.”

“Fine, laugh it up, jackass,” she said, “but this’ll probably be you tomorrow.”

He stopped laughing and got serious. “You think?” Then he shook his head and negated the possibility. “No, car modeling’s definitely a female thing.”

“Freakin’ sexist society!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in outrage.

He walked along with the rotating platform in order to stay in her view and kept talking to her. “So how long you been at this?”

“Too long!” was her response. “I got a call this morning from freakin’ Fiona. She says she has a job booked for me. So I’m thinking, ‘Oh, Playboy,’ or something like that, you know? Oh, no. I’m car girl.”

“Pretty car girl,” he said. The words just came out.

“I’m just . . . I’m tired and I’m cranky, and my feet hurt, and I’m gonna be here for the rest of the afternoon. It’s like, there goes my whole Saturday!”

“Oh, the hardships of being a model,” he said sarcastically.

“Watch it. You’re insulting your own kind now,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “I’m just in it for the cash.”

“Oh, what, and I’m in it for the supposed fun?” She grunted. “God, I have to pee.”

“Then go pee.”

“I can’t! I can’t leave the car unattended!”

He shook his head, still walking along with the platform. “So dramatic.”

“I just . . . I feel like a Desperate Housewife,” she said. “You know, like in that one episode where Gabrielle’s modeling the car just like this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t watch that show.”

“Yes, you do.”

No point in denying it. “I do. I watch it. You know why? ‘Cause Eva Longoria is a beautiful woman.”

“Blah, blah,” she said, waving him off. “Blah-de-blah-blah-blah.”

He smiled and hopped up onto the platform with her.

“What-what’re you doing?” she sputtered.

“You’re such a good model. I just gotta get behind the wheel, test this sweet ride out.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”

He opened the climbed into the car, opting against opening the door in case there was some kind of alarm set. He sat down in the driver’s seat and placed his hands on the wheel. “It is a nice car,” he said. “Maybe we can earn enough money to buy it.”

“Oh yeah? And then how do we share it? Switch off days? Slice it in half?”

“No, I get it more of the time ‘cause I’m hotter.” He smirked.

“Oh, seriously, Michael,” she said with a fake laugh, “that’s just, like, way un-funny.”

He smiled at her, but his smile fell when he glanced behind her and noticed a group of young guys—they couldn’t be older than high school—looking at her with obvious intent in their eyes. A few of them even loosened their pants. She couldn’t see them because she wasn’t facing them.

“Maria, get in the car,” he ordered, his protective instinct for his friend kicking in.

“What? Why?”

Because he didn’t want them looking at her like she was a piece of meat. “You said your feet hurt. Come on, car girl.”

She grunted and gave him a look of exasperation, but it didn’t take long for her to walk around to the other side of the car and clamor into the passenger’s seat. “Ooh,” she said. “It is a nice car. What kind is it?”

He looked at her in disbelief. “You’ve been standing here all day and you don’t know what kind of car this is?”

“Hello! I was too busy thinking about my sore feet.”

He shook his head and sat up straighter, pretending to be a chauffeur driver. “Where to, Miss? The nearest orgy, perhaps?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

He chuckled and sat back again.

“So how you holdin’ up, Michael?” she asked. “No sex and all.”

“Fine,” he lied. Truthfully, it was killing him. Liz had been very handy last night, pun intended, but it still didn’t compare to the whole enchilada.

“Where’s Liz?” she asked.

“She went home to see her parents this weekend,” he replied.

“Oh, so you guys have nothing to do if you’re not doing each other?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he said. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you and little Maxie last night, gettin’ it on.”

“He’s not so little.”

“Oh, TMI.”

She laughed and said. “What kind of guy says TMI?”

“The cool kind.”

“More like the arrogant kind.” She sighed and set her elbow on the side of the car, resting her chin against her fist. “You should leave,” she said. “You’re distracting me. I’m supposed to be standing.”

He shrugged. “I can go if you want me to.”

He loved the way she tried not to smile at him, the way she turned her head to the side in an effort to conceal her grin.

She didn’t want him to go anywhere. That knowledge made him smile, too.

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

Maria didn’t realize she had nodded off until she heard someone with loud, heavy shoes step up onto the platform and make her presence known. “Interesting,” a familiar, scratchy voice remarked. “I would have never thought of modeling the car like this.”

Maria struggled to open her eyes and realized at once where she was. She was still in the car, and she was still with Michael, but he had fallen asleep, too. His arm was around her, and her head was resting on his shoulder. How the hell?

My agent! she remembered, sitting up abruptly. “Fiona!” she shrieked, looking up at the woman hovering above her. “Hi!”

Michael began to stir as well, muttering, “Oh, shit,” under his breath.

“We just took a nap,” Maria blurted. “Just a little nap.”

“For three hours,” Michael yawned as he looked at his watch.

“Shut up,” she told him. She climbed out of the car then, and scurried around it to stand beside the much larger woman. “I was modeling,” she assured Fiona. “For a very long time. And I was doing good.”

“She was,” Michael agreed. “She got a lot of guys hard. Not me.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said, hoping this wouldn’t cost her the job she had just gotten.

“Relax, honey,” Fiona said. “What do you think I am? A bitch?”

“Well . . . yeah,” Maria admitted after a long pause. Honesty was the best policy, right?

Fiona rolled her eyes and said, “Models. You’re done for today. Here’s your share.” She handed Maria a small wad of bills, mostly twenties. Maria counted it out, and even though she wasn’t a math whiz, it was . . . substantially less than she had been expecting. “Two-hundred and fifty dollars?” she said. “I thought I was supposed to get a full five-hundred.”

Fiona shrugged. “The other half goes to him.”

“What?!” Maria shrieked as she watched her agent hand the exact same amount to Michael. “He didn’t even do anything! Except be a pain in my ass!”

“And a pillow for your head,” he said, patting his shoulder.

“That’s so besides the point!”

“If you don’t like it, deal with it,” Fiona said. “I’ll call you when a job comes up.”

Maria gasped in disbelief and watched as Fiona waddled down the platform. She actually fell, rolled around like a fat slug for a minute, and then tried to stand up and act as though nothing had happened. Maria wished she’d stayed down so she could kick her. What was she thinking giving Michael an equal share? The nerve!

“Don’t be hatin’, baby,” Michael said, fanning out the bills in his hand. “You know, add this together, it’s a fairly substantial amount of cash for one day’s laziness. I mean work.”

“Whatever,” she muttered.

“Nah, I’m just sayin’, we should probably give this to Kyle, since we owe him, you know?”

Great. So she’d just earned some money, and it wasn’t even going to be hers for long.

“We should do that,” he repeated mischievously, and she wondered what he had in mind.








TBC . . .

-April

(The next part is sexy-exy, just so you guys know.)

[April]

gnrkrystle: Don't worry about ranting. Rants are fun! It makes sense that Maria would be irritating you more than Michael is since you're a GZ girl. Thanks for reading!
Mag: You're sticking to your Karma theory, huh? I know you're hating the UC sex (as are most people), but you've survived the ABOMINATION (lol) that was Chapter 29, so you can handle the rest.
nibbles:

Michael sounded like he was reading lines to Liz when he told her she was different. It's a marked difference to how sincere he is with Maria.

Great observation. That's a wonderful way to put it, and it's so true.
pookie76:

what would they be able to talk about? The size of Michaels package and how far they would like to explore the Kama Sutra AFTER the month is over?

lol, Michael probably wouldn't mind talking about that. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!
Tine: I'm glad you laughed at the last part. Thanks for reading and feedbacking!
tequathisy: Oh, yes. Poor Kyle. I must admit, he's a pretty awesome guy. You'll find out what Michael and Maria do with their money in this part. Thanks for the feedback!








Part 34







Fifteen minutes later, Maria stood in the mall’s Victoria’s Secret store, watching as Michael looked through a rack of lingerie. “What’re we doing here again?” she asked for the umpteenth time.

“I told you, Liz’s birthday’s comin’ up in a few weeks. I wanna have something to give her.” He grinned at her and teased, “Don’t act like it’s not your favorite store.”

“No, I like Victoria’s Secret,” she admitted outright. “I’m just not sure Liz does.”

“Oh, you don’t know the girl like I do,” he said. “She’s got a wild side. You fuck her enough, it’ll come out.”

Maria grunted. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” he said, picking out a black lace teddy that looked . . . intriguing. “I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about that.”

She sighed heavily, making a sound of annoyance low in her throat, and proceeded to look at some of the items on display herself.

“Don’t you have enough lingerie already?” he asked her.

“How would you know? Peeking through my underwear drawer again?”

He chuckled. “You caught me.”

“Are you serious?”

“No,” he said. “Yes.”

“I really do hate you, Michael. Really.”

“Okay.” He put the black teddy back and held up a skimpy red garment instead. “Hey. What do you think about this?” he asked her.

She took one look at it and said, “It’s cute. I don’t know if Liz has the boobs for it, though. That looks like Tess and Isabel lingerie. You know what I mean?”

“Try it on,” he said, thrusting it at her.

“What?”

“You and Liz are about the same size. If it fits you, it’ll fit her.”

“You want me to try on lingerie that other people have already tried on and that your girlfriend someday might try on?”

“Ding, ding, ding. Give the girl a prize.”

She rolled her eyes but took it from him anyway and headed back towards the dressing rooms. “You’re lucky I’m not conservative,” she muttered as he followed her.

One of the workers opened up a dressing room for her, and she stepped inside. “Hold my purse,” she said, handing it to him.

He took it and almost dropped it. The damn thing felt like it weighed fifty pounds. “You gotta let me see it when you got it on,” he said.

“In your dreams,” she shot back.

He chuckled and shook his head. Since when was Maria DeLuca reluctant to show off her body?

As he waited, he turned to face a guy standing next to him who appeared to be around the same age, maybe just a little older. “Great store, huh?” he said.

The guy nodded. “Oh, yeah. You here with your girlfriend?”

“No, not really.”

“Wife then?”

“Oh, hell no.”

The guy wrinkled his forehead in confusion, but asked no further questions.

Michael sighed, waiting impatiently. “Maria, you got it on yet?”

“No,” she answered. “This thing’s, like, a maze. I can’t even figure out how it’s supposed to work.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. If Maria couldn’t figure out sexy lingerie, Liz was never going to be able to figure it out.

Michael turned around, glancing around the store, seeing if anything else jumped out and caught his eye, and then he saw a horrible sight. A girl walked in, one he was sure he had slept with but couldn’t quite remember her name. She had red hair. She was hot (of course). Rachelle? Rachel? He couldn’t recall, but he did recall that she had been a bit clingy after the act.

“Shit,” he said, tugging open the door to Maria’s dressing room and ducking inside.

“What the . . . fuck!” she shrieked, splaying her hands across herself. “I’m fucking naked!”

“Yeah, I noticed. You should’ve locked the door.”

“I thought I did.”

“You didn’t.” He locked the door securely and peered out over the top of it. That damn girl was still there. He didn’t think she’d spotted him yet, but he couldn’t take any chances. She had the potential to be a Stage Five clinger. It could be bad. He ducked back down again, hoping she’d be on her merry way in a few moments.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, trying to cover up her body with some of the clothes she had already taken off.

“There’s this girl I fucked out there. She’s really . . . I don’t know. I just don’t wanna deal with her.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Rachel something.”

“Rachelle?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

She tossed her head back and groaned. “Oh, god. You’re so dramatic.”

“Just cut me some slack, okay?” he said. For the first time since he’d barged in, it registered that he was indeed in a very confined space with a very naked girl; and even though that girl was just Maria, he couldn’t help becoming a little aroused.

“Hmm,” he said, peering over her shoulder to look at her ass in the mirror.

“Oh, my god, don’t be disgusting,” she hissed, hitting his shoulder.

Nothin’ disgusting about that, he thought as he forced his eyes away. “Well, now that I’m in here,” he said, “let me help you figure that thing out.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Only sometimes. Come on.” He took the clothes she was using to conceal herself from him and tossed them to the floor.

“Oh my god,” was all she could say.

He grabbed the red-hot lingerie and held it up in front of him, surveying it. It didn’t look all that complicated. But then again, maybe that was just because he had a lot of experiences removing similar garments from various girls.

“Michael, you’re not really . . .” She trailed off when he dropped down to his knees and held out the garment for her to step into.

“Come on, DeLuca,” he said. “Why you so scared?”

She gazed down at him, her eyes swirling with passion, and said, “I’m not scared.” She stepped into the lingerie with ease, then, and he slowly slid it up her legs, over her thighs. He’d meant it the other day when he’d told Bitchy Fiona that she had perfect thighs. As far as he could tell, Maria DeLuca had perfect everything.

He stood up as he continued pulling the garment upward. The male in him couldn’t deny the power of seeing the center of her pleasure up close like this, having his hands so close to it, yet far enough away. Seeing her legs spread even just slightly . . . good Lord. He thought he must have some kind of disorder, because he was getting hard all the time.

She held out her arms to the sides slightly, and he moved the lingerie around them, sliding it up to hook onto her shoulders. It fit like a tight one-piece bathing suit, only much thinner and lacier. He let his hands smooth down her arms then. Her skin was so soft.

God, he thought. Who would’ve thought putting clothes on a girl could be so fun?

“Well,” she said, “how do I look?”

“See for yourself,” he said, placing his hands on her hips and spinning her around so she could see her reflection in the mirror. She smiled when she did.

“Not bad,” he said, severely understating it.

“Do you think it’ll look as good on Liz?” she asked him.

“Yeah, it’ll look good,” he replied confidently. As good? That remained to be seen. He grinned as he surveyed her in the mirror and couldn’t control his hands as they trailed up her sides and moved around to squeeze her breasts playfully.

“Stop,” she said, though she made no effort to swat his hands away.

He laughed and let go of her, backing up so she could have some space to breathe. “Don’t tell Liz about this, okay?”

“Don’t tell Max.” She placed her hands on her hips then and asked him, “Is that girl still out there?”

“What girl?” he asked in honest confusion.

“The one you’re hiding from.”

“Oh, right.” He’d almost forgotten about her. Rachel. Rachelle. Whatever her name was. He turned and peered over the top of the dressing room again. He looked around the small store, but he didn’t see her anywhere. “Uh . . . yeah,” he lied, not thinking much of it. “Sure, she is.”

Maria groaned. “Great.”

He had to hide his smirk as he sat down on the small bench in the corner and watched her undress and get dressed again. Good stuff.

She shook her head and mumbled, “You’re really lucky I’m not conservative.”

He felt lucky.

When they exited the dressing room shortly afterwards, a few of the people waiting outside stopped whatever they were doing and gave them overt questioning looks.

“Oh, baby,” Michael said, glancing down at Maria, “you’re always so much better in a public place.”

She gasped in outrage and smacked him on the shoulder. He just laughed and went to pay for the lingerie.

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

“Kyle!” Maria exclaimed in a sing-song voice as she pranced through the front door that night. “Look what I’ve got! Mucho money.”

Kyle’s face lit up. “Really?”

She made a face. “No. But, two-hundred and fifty bucks . . . better than nothing.” She held out a small stack of bills, and he gratefully accepted.

“Thanks, Maria,” he said. “I’m glad you’re making an effort.”

“No problem,” she said. “I would’ve made more money if someone hadn’t come and distracted me.”

“She drools when she sleeps, Kyle,” Michael said. “You know that?”

“I . . . have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Kyle said.

“Michael made two-hundred and fifty bucks today, too,” Maria made sure to tell the responsible member of the household. “For doing nothing.”

“Really? That’s awesome, man,” Kyle said. “See? Five-hundred bucks right there. Just a thousand more to go and you’ll have paid me back for the car.”

Michael laughed a little. “Yeah, see, I kinda . . . spent it.”

“What?” Kyle spat.

“Yeah, see, unlike me, he was not frugal,” Maria said, pleased with herself for resisting the temptation of that oh-so-adorable lingerie in Victoria’s Secret.

Oh god, things had gotten pretty heated in that dressing room . . .

“What the hell?” Kyle shrieked, ripping her from her thoughts. “Guerin! What’d you spend it on?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Just stuff.”

“Lingerie,” Maria answered for him. “For Liz.”

“Her birthday’s comin’ up!” Michael reminded them emphatically. “Holy crap!”

“You spent two-hundred and fifty bucks on lingerie?” Kyle barked.

“No, I spent ninety on lingerie. I spent the rest on a new cell phone,” Michael explained.

“And in the arcade,” Maria made sure to add. “He stopped in the arcade, played pinball like a big loser. Lecture him, Kyle.”

“Oh, I will,” he said assuredly. “Dude, what were you thinkin’? A new cell phone? That’s just stupid. The arcade? That’s even stupider. But lingerie? Ninety bucks on lingerie?”

“But hey,” Michael said, taking it out of the bag and holding it up. “Check it out.”

Kyle’s eyes grew wide and he said, “Whoa. That is hot.”

Maria rolled her eyes at her boys. “Kyle!”

“Right,” he said. “You’re missing the point, Michael. You spent your money foolishly. Now it’s gonna take you guys even longer to pay me back for the car repairs.”

“You’re very good at lecturing, Kyle,” Maria applauded him.

“Thanks.”

“I think you guys are the ones missing the point,” Michael said. “It’s gonna be her fucking birthday. Isn’t that what people do when they’re dating, get each other gifts?”

Kyle sighed in admission. “Yeah, but . . . couldn’t you have just made her a card or something?”

“Oh, yeah, and you’re one to talk, Valenti. What’d you get Tess for her birthday again? Oh, yeah, those fuckin’ huge boobs!”

“That’s different,” Kyle insisted, pointing a finger at him. “Those are permanent effects.”

“Whatever,” Maria mumbled. Shaking her head, she headed down the hallway to her bedroom, leaving the men to quarrel it out.

She slammed the door to her bedroom and immediately went over to her closet. It was a Saturday night. Not a night for staying in. She’d spent all day ‘working,’ if it could really be called that, so she wanted to treat herself to a festivity.

She pulled out a red halter lined with gold sequins at the bottom and tossed it onto her bed. And to go with that . . . She smiled when she remembered the new jeans Tess had just designed for her. The girl was such a fashionista and, hence, an awesome friend.

Maria undressed completely, even discarding her panties, and stepped into her jeans commando style. She closed her eyes and let herself remember for a moment being in that dressing room with Michael. She should have stopped him. She should have thrown his ass back out where it belonged. But it had just been too erotic.

Once she had her jeans on, she slipped into her halter, too, and reached behind her neck to attempt tying it. Just as she was doing that, the door to her room opened and Michael came in.

“You goin’ out?” he asked.

“Yeah, tie this for me. And stop barging in on me.” Or continue, she thought to herself.

He stepped closer and took the halter from her, tying it right around the back of her neck. “Goin’ out with Max?” he asked.

With Max? she thought. “Oh, yeah.” Sure, she could go out with Max. It would look weird if she didn’t. He was her boyfriend, after all.

“Cool, I’m comin’, too,” he said, resting his hand in the small of her back.

I wonder if he realizes how much he touches me, she thought. She certainly realized it. “Wait, what?” she said, stepping away and turning to face him when what he said registered.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything better to do.”

She sighed heavily. On the one hand, she had vowed never to go out on any remotely date-like outings with him again; but on the other hand, everything was so boring when he wasn’t there. “If you must,” she decided. She figured she might like it a little better since Liz wouldn’t be there. She kind of enjoyed the thought of having Michael all to herself.

But of course Max would be there . . . Max and Michael . . . and her.

She groaned as Michael left the room. How did she get herself into these situations?

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

“Max.”

Max looked up from the book he was reading when Maria waltzed into the room. “Hey,” he said. He was happy to see her. When he’d woken up that morning and she hadn’t been lying next to him, he’d been so worried. But when he’d heard that she was modeling, he’d felt better. Still, it would have been nice to be able to spend the day with her.

She sat down on the edge of his bed and said, “So, I know you’re all busy being studious, but it is a Saturday night. There’s fun to be had somewhere.”

“Translation?” he asked.

“I’m going to a party. Michael, of course, invited himself along, which means Kyle will be there, which means Tess will be there and possibly Isabel. So all we need is for you to be there.”

He sighed. He just hated all those frat parties. “Oh, Maria, I’ve got an exam Monday. I promised myself I’d study all weekend.”

“That sounds boring,” she said, making a face.

Oh, no. He didn’t want to bore her. “But I can go with you, if you want.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and standing up again. “No, it’s okay, Max. I know how important school is to you. I totally shouldn’t--”

“No, Maria, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is,” she said. “We said nothing was gonna change, right? I don’t wanna change you. Trust me, you don’t wanna be changed by me.” She smiled a little and said, “I’ll see you later,” as she slipped back out of the room and shut the door quietly.

Max lay there on his bed, staring at the closed door, feeling like a bad boyfriend. He was definitely willing to sacrifice his study time for Maria time. But then again, she didn’t seem all that devastated that he was staying home.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

pookie76: lol, you're so right. Lingerie is most definitely a gift for Michael, not for Liz!
grnkrystle: Yes, Maria still needs to grow up. She will, but it's an arduous process. And how have M+M not hooked up before? Well, in addition to being very horny, they're also very stubborn!
SweetnSpicy: Hey, I'm so happy to see you're still reading! I'm glad you liked the Victoria's Secret scene. It was definitely a highlight for me to write.
nibbles: Max is indeed self-deluded like Michael. As the fic progresses, it's harder to tell which one of the two of them is more oblivious. And yes, the "No, not really" answer to the guy asking Michael if he was with his girlfriend . . . glad you caught that.
crazysnape: lol, Michael and Maria can definitely seduce anyone. Except each other, it seems! They're so obstinate! Thanks for reading.
tequathisy: Yes, Maria's not spending the money is a HUGE step for her. And you're right, Michael still has a loooong way to go.
Tine: Oh yes, Michael and Maria don't even need to be touching each other to have chemistry together, but when they are . . . I'm glad you liked the last part! Thanks for the feedback!



The song used in this part is "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers. I'm not sure if the lyrics are a total match to the scene, but I just like the song, so I used it. Enjoy, readers!








Part 35








The party group ended up being a little small that night. Kyle and Tess were the only ones that went along with them. Isabel had some kind of meeting with a tutor, and Max . . . well, Max would have been invisible even if he had tagged along. Parties weren’t his thing. Michael didn’t really mind it just being the four of them, though. As much as he liked all his friends, they sometimes got in the way of what really mattered: infuriating the hell out of Maria.

Michael followed Maria into the fraternity house, and Tess and Kyle followed him. The party was already out of control, since it was already fairly late in the evening. Michael fully intended to find the keg and binge before the cops came and broke it up.

“Looks fun,” Tess commented, giggling.

“Sure does,” Kyle agreed.

Michael glanced back at the pair, unaccustomed to seeing them without Isabel. “Uh, Tess,” he said when he noticed a certain part of her anatomy peeking out over the top of her shirt. “Your . . . birthday present’s fallin’ out.”

“Let it,” she said confidently.

“That sounds good,” Michael said, happy to stand there and stare. Even though her boobs were fake, they were awesome.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Kyle said, already leading Tess in that direction.

“Mmm, I love you, Kyle.”

“I love you, too.”

Michael shook his head. “Saps.” He turned his head to glance down at Maria and noticed that she was already walking off in the direction of the keg. He pushed his way through the crowd to catch up with her and said, “What’re you tryin’ to do, ditch me?”

She spun around to face him, trying to look irritated. “So I guess this is another one of those oh-so-fun group outings where I end up on a date with you.”

He shrugged. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

“I’ll consider myself cursed,” she muttered, reaching down beside the keg for a can of beer.

He grabbed himself a can, too, getting the feeling that this was going to be a fun night.

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

Alex walked into the math resource center that night, fully prepared for his first tutoring session. Hopefully his student would learn a lot from him. Hopefully his student would be ready and willing to learn in the first place. Hopefully his student would be . . .

Isabel Evans?!

His heart almost stopped when he walked around the corner and saw her sitting there at a table, an algebra book lying open in front of her. He couldn’t be that lucky. Could he?

He looked around the tutoring center. There was no one else there.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself and act cool as he approached her. Don’t freak out, he told himself. Don’t freak out.

“Hey, Isabel!” His voice came out in one loud squeak when he tried to talk, and he immediately slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed.

“Hi, Alex,” she said, laughing a little. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Good Lord, why was his voice so squeaky?

She smiled, one of those big, radiant smiles that made him get lost in a fantasy world consisting solely of Isabel Evans.

“So you’re . . . you’re here for tutoring?” he asked her as he sat down beside her. He was so nervous, he almost tipped backwards in his chair and had to grab hold of the table and pull himself upright again.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m so not mathematical. This semester’s kicking my ass already.”

“Oh, it’s okay, we’ll get you through it,” he said.

“You’ll get me through it,” she corrected. “I had a feeling you’d be my tutor. I always thought you’d be really good at math.” She shrugged. “Then again, you’re probably good at everything.”

He laughed nervously. “Oh, don’t be too sure.” He most definitely wasn’t good at everything. His first near sexual intercourse experience a year ago, for example, had been a complete disaster. He’d taken off his pants, and the girl he was with had asked, ‘Where’s the rest of it?’ Needless to say, that had ruined the mood for both of them. It sure as hell wasn’t puny!

He realized he was spacing off and said, “Oh, tutoring. Right.”

“Right,” she said, wrinkling her forehead in conclusion.

At least she doesn’t know how crazy she’s making me, he thought. A small miracle. He leaned over to look over some of the problems in her book, but he couldn’t think about numbers. No, he was too busy smelling her perfume. “So,” he asked, “where’s Kyle? And Tess?”

“Oh, they’re at some party,” she replied flippantly. “I wanted to go, but . . .”

“Stuck here with me,” he filled in.

And her response? It blew his mind. “It’s not so bad.”

He gazed right at her, thumping his foot excitedly beneath the table like Thumper the rabbit. He couldn’t help it. Isabel Evans just got him so excited. “So,” he said, forcing himself to stay focused and remember that she had a boyfriend . . . and sort of a girlfriend, too. “I see you’re starting parabolas . . .”

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

“Woo!” Maria hollered, throwing her hands in the air. Without Max and Liz around, she was well on her way to getting drunk, and Michael seemed right there with her.

“Woo!” he mimicked, doing the same thing with his arms.

“No one rocks a party like Michael and Maria!” she exclaimed, tossing her now third empty beer can aside. “Oh my god, Michael, I’m getting drunker and drunker.”

“I won’t let anyone lay a hand on you, Maria,” he said, pointing his finger at her in an over-exaggerated way. “K?”

“K!” she replied loudly, drunkenly, stumbling over her own foot and almost falling down.

He reached out and caught her by the arm. “Hear that?” he shouted to everyone around them. “No one . . . lays a hand . . . on this girl. ‘s my piece of ass.”

“Uh-uh, ‘s not,” she slurred back at him, jerking her arm away from him.

He laughed stupidly. “You just said snot.”

She laughed, too. “I did. Ew.”

“Ew.”

She laughed a moment longer, then suddenly remembered what he had said and turned serious. “Don’t . . . talk about my ass,” she told him sternly.

“I can’t help it, Maria. It’s so nice and pretty.”

“Shut up,” she said, staggering through the crowd of people over to the other side of the room, not really sure where she was going. She came across a group of partygoers sitting on the floor in a circle, spinning an empty beer bottle around in the center and kissing each other.

“Spin the bottle!” she exclaimed. “It’s been, like, forever since I’ve played that.” She practically fell down on the floor in between two guys she didn’t know and said, “Hi. I’m Maria.”

“Yeah, we know,” one of the guys said. “Is your friend Liz here?”

“Huh?” She was so confused.

Michael took a seat in the circle across from her and mumbled, “This is stupid. Let’s get some beer pong.”

“You don’t need to get drunker,” she told him. “I’m cuttin’ you off.”

“No fair,” he whined. Only drunk Michael whined.

“Hey, Guerin,” one of the guys sitting beside her said, “your girlfriend here tonight?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered. “She’s right there.” He pointed to Maria.

“No, your girlfriend.”

“Duh, Michael,” Maria said, rolling her eyes.

He just said, “I don’t get it,” and left it at that.

Poor drunk Michael, she thought. I’m glad I’m not as drunk as he is.

“Guerin, spin the bottle,” the guy said, pushing it toward him. “Live it up while you still can. Your college days are almost over, man.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, reaching for the bottle. He spun it, and everyone watched as it went from person to person, gradually slowing down, gradually coming to land on one person in particular . . .

Maria felt suddenly sober when it stopped pointing directly at her. She stared at the bottle in horror, then looked up at Michael, wondering if he was as mortified as she was.

He glanced at her only briefly before reaching for the bottle again. “No, I gotta call a do-over. Ssssorry.”

“A do-over?” Maria grunted. Although part of her was relieved, the other part of her was in disbelief. No one called a do-over on her. Ever. It just wasn’t right.

Again, Michael spun the bottle, and again, everyone watched in anticipation. Oh, please don’t let it land on me, she begged internally. If it does . . . oh, just please don’t let it land on me.

But, of course . . . it did.

“Whoa . . .” a couple of other people in the circle said in astonishment.

This time, Michael did look into her eyes. She looked back into his, and for a minute, she wondered if maybe he was thinking about it, thinking about what it would feel like, taste like. She sure as hell was.

“Come on, man, kiss her,” one of the guys urged.

But . . . it couldn’t happen. She knew that. She was with Max. And he was with Liz. And they were just plain . . . incompatible.

“Screw this,” she muttered, pushing herself to her feet.

“Oh!” the rest of the circle exclaimed. “Dissed and dismissed, Guerin!”

She heard him get up and follow after her. He caught up to her as she made her way through the crowd and casually said, “Weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Weird.”

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

Light is both a wave and a particle, and you will see one or more of these aspects depending on . . . Max trailed off as he struggled to read through his physics homework. Usually physics, or anything involving science, for that matter, would interest him; but his mind was on other things that night. Maria. His girlfriend.

The house was quiet. They were all gone. Kyle, Michael, Maria . . . once again, they all felt like going to a party, and he was the oddball who didn’t. He loved his friends (one friend in particular), but sometimes he just couldn’t relate to them. Why did they like going to parties so much? Didn’t one party just start to blend together with the next party after awhile? What was the big appeal of getting so drunk you couldn’t walk straight? He didn’t get it.

Max sighed, sort of wishing he had tagged along with them. He trusted Maria; he believed she wouldn’t cheat on him. But there was just a little nagging piece of doubt . . . she had never had a real boyfriend before. All of her previous relationships had been based on pleasure. Could she handle a commitment? Did she know how to be committed?

Have some faith in her, man, Max told himself. Just trust her.

He wanted to. And he did . . . but he picked up the phone to call her anyway.

Her phone rang a couple of times before switching over to voicemail.

“Hey, you’ve reached Maria DeLuca. Lucky you.”

When the beep sounded, Max wet his lips and struggled to speak. “Uh . . . hey, Maria, it’s me. I just . . . wanted to make sure you were having a good time. I’ll, uh . . . I’ll see you later. Bye.” He hung up his phone, shaking his head, feeling like an idiot. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, the girlfriend fretting over her boyfriend’s behavior?

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

Michael left Maria alone for a few minutes to go mingle with other people at the party, but he found it strangely boring without her and had to seek her out again.

He walked outside onto the deck in the back and found her standing there by herself, oddly. She was the epitome of a social butterfly, hardly ever alone. But there she stood, leaning over the railing, looking out upon the night with a beer can in her hand, her blonde hair blowing gently away from her face. And alone.

He made his way to her, feeling a lot more sober ever since the Spin the Bottle game. The way that bottle had landed on her twice had just been too freaky for words.

“It’s cold out,” he commented, standing beside her, peering over the railing.

“Big baby,” she teased, taking another sip of her beer. She turned to look right at him then and asked, “So do you miss Liz?”

“That was random,” he said.

“Well, do you?”

He shrugged. Sure. Why not? “Yeah,” he said. “Almost as much as I miss having sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “You guys were having a lot of it before you lost our bet, weren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And is she . . . developing a new talent?”

Nice way to phrase it, drunk Maria, he thought. “Of course. She’ll probably be more ‘talented’ than you.”

“Uh-uh,” she said confidently. “No one’s more talented than me.”

He let his eyes sweep over her body for a second and reminded her, “I wouldn’t know.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she agreed quietly.

He couldn’t resist disgusting her. “Care to show me?”

“Uh, let me think about it. No,” she answered quickly.

He chuckled. “Good.” It wasn’t as though he actually wanted to know what having sex with Maria was like. Sure, the thought had crossed his mind at various points in time, but that was just because he was a guy. Guys thought about sex with beautiful girls, no matter how crazy those girls were.

Okay, so maybe he sort of wanted to know.

He glanced back over at her then as the music playing inside the house changed, and he noticed her moving in time with the beat, bending her knees and shaking oh-so-slightly on every count.

“I’m coming out of my cage
And I’ve been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all.”

“You can’t help it, can you?” he said. “You’re always dancing.”

“Yeah, so what?” she said. “Don’t you ever just feel like dancing?”

“No.”

“Sure you do,” she said. “Come on, Michael, dance.”

“It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this?
It was only a kiss
It was only a kiss . . .”

She leaned towards him, shaking her shoulders in time with the music, trying to get him to join in. “Just shimmy and shake,” she said, shaking back in the other direction now.

“I don’t shimmy.”

“Come on, Michael, dance with me!” she exclaimed, tossing her beer can over the edge of the deck onto the ground then.

“Now I’m falling asleep
And she’s calling a cab
While he’s having a smoke
And she’s taking a drag.”

He laughed as he watched her shuffle around the deck, never wandering too far away from him. She looked so good when she danced. The way her hips moved, the way her arms moved . . . it was enough to make a man go crazy.

“Now they’re going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it’s all in my head.”

She stomped towards him suddenly then and draped her arms over his shoulders. She trailed one finger down his chest, moving her hips at a slightly faster pace, turning him on a little bit. Or a lot. Oh god, the girl could move.

“But she’s touching his chest, now
He takes off her dress, now
Letting me go . . .”

She tossed her hair from side to side, then walked in a slow circle around him, looking so exotic and so exciting in that moment that he just couldn’t take his eyes off her. She stopped back in front of him, then, and spun around in a circle, arms above her head, swirling her hips.

“And I just can’t look
It’s killing me!”

“Dance with me, Michael,” she said again, much quieter this time.

“And taking control . . .”

He didn’t object when she grabbed his hand, held one in the air, and started dancing to the chorus, moving from side to side, tossing her head and her hips all around.

“Jealousy
Turning saints into the sea
Turning through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis.”

He was too busy watching that incredible midsection of her body undulate to realize that he was, in fact, dancing. Dancing badly, but still dancing.

“But it’s just the price I pay!
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes . . .”

She lifted her arms and raked her hands through her hair, looking so sensual, so sexual.

“‘Cause I’m Mr. Brightside!”

He would have kept dancing, but for some reason, after that, she slowed down, eventually stopping altogether. She looked at him, smiling, and said, “I’m intoxicated. That’s my excuse.”

He thought about it and decided it sounded like a good one. “Yeah,” he said. “Mine, too.”

She turned, smirking at him, and headed back into the house; and, of course, he followed her.

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

Kyle pulled the car into the driveway and turned it off. “New engine’s nice,” he commented. “It better be, for twenty-five hundred.”

Tess smiled at him. “Yeah, it doesn’t make that putt-putt sound.”

“Yeah, that’s a plus.” He took the key out of the ignition and looked over at her, smiling as well. She was a beautiful girl. Hell, all the girls he knew were beautiful girls, but there had always been something about Tess that had especially mesmerized him. Even before the breast implants.

“I hope you don’t mind if I stay with you tonight,” she said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” They both leaned in then, and he was just about to touch his lips to hers when movement in the backseat distracted them. They both turned and looked at Michael and Maria, both drunk and asleep. Maria was lying with her head in his lap, stirring just slightly.

“Two of a kind,” Tess remarked. “You think they’ll ever figure it out?”

Kyle thought about it. It had been eight years of constant bickering and flirting, and still . . . “Not a chance,” he said before leaning in to give his girlfriend a kiss on the lips.

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

Michael thought he heard smacking, but he wasn’t sure. He felt so out of it. He didn’t even know where the hell he was.

“You guys might wanna wake up,” he heard Kyle say. “We’re home.”

He rolled his head from side to side, trying to open his eyelids, but they felt like they weighed twenty pounds. Each.

He heard two car doors slam, and that noise was enough to wake him up just slightly. He watched as Tess and Kyle headed into the house, then looked down at the girl lying asleep in his lap. “Maria,” he said, shaking her shoulder gently. “Maria, wake up.”

“Mmm,” she groaned. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know, late,” he replied. “Come on. My fuckin’ . . . my fuckin’ leg’s fallin’ asleep.”

“No,” she whined. “I’m sleeping here.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, slowly easing himself out from under her. “Come on, Maria.”

“I’m too drunk; I can’t do exercise,” she said in a rush.

Exercise? Whatever. He, also, was too drunk to try to figure it out.

It took all his energy to push open the door and get out of the car. When he stood, his legs were a little wobbly, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “Maria, come on,” he said, starting to get impatient.

“What do you want from me?”

“Just stand up.”

“Carry me,” she said. “You’re good at that.”

“Dammit, Maria.” He reached into the backseat and put his arms around her, lifting her smaller, lighter body out. He tried to shut the door with his foot, but when he did so, he accidently lost his balance, and the two of them went tumbling onto the front lawn, landing with a loud thump.

“Ow!” Maria yelped, hitting his shoulder as hard as she could in her inebriated state. She still didn’t open her eyes.

“Well . . . if you’d just walk.”

“I told you, I’m too drunk.”

“Me, too.”

Just then, the porch light snapped on. Michael and Maria both groaned and covered their eyes, looking away.

“What’re you-what’re you guys doing?” Max asked.

“Maxwell,” Michael said. “You were smart to stay home.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Max asked again, making his way toward them.

“Nothin’, we’re just hammered,” Michael told him. He struggled to sit up, then struggled even more to get to his feet. Max grabbed onto his arm and helped hoist him up.

“Thanks, man,” Michael said. He turned back to Maria, who had curled up on her side in the grass now, seemingly perfectly content to just sleep there the rest of the night.

“Come on, my little lawn gnome,” Michael joked, reaching down to pick her up.

“No,” she whimpered.

He set her down on her own two feet, but she could barely stand, so he put one arm around her to hold her up. “Alright, Max, you can go back to sleep,” he said. “I got her.”

“No, it’s okay. I got her,” Max said, grabbing hold of her free arm.

“No, I got her,” Michael insisted, pulling her closer to him.

“Michael, really . . .”

“No, Max, just go back to bed. I got her, okay?”

And all of a sudden, in the midst of that tug of war, Maria leaned forward and threw up. A loud, smelly, nasty throw-up.

“Oh, sick,” Michael said, holding his hand to his own stomach, feeling a similar urge. Seconds later, he bent forward in the same manner and released the contents of his stomach as well, wishing now that he hadn’t drunk so much.

“Whoa,” he said, actually feeling much better when he did.

“You’re disgusting,” Maria said barely coherently. “People who throw up are disgusting.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Come on, Maria. Let’s go.”

“Okay,” she said. “Bye, Max.”

Max didn’t say anything.

Together, Michael and Maria staggered inside the house. They fell down in the living room, and he almost couldn’t get back up. She refused to walk after that, so he tried picking her up again. Instead of taking the chance of walking without support and falling again, he slid against the wall, hoping she would appreciate this come tomorrow. It would have been much easier just to leave her out in the front yard.

Either because she was so drunk or maybe just plain weird, she started singing the tune to the wedding march when he carried her across the threshold his bedroom. “Dum, dum, da-dum.”

“Very funny,” he said, practically tossing her down atop his bed. He crashed down beside her, flat on his face. He could have attempted to carry her to her room at the end of the hallway, but that just seemed like too much work. Besides, he didn’t mind sharing his bed.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Mag: That's an interesting point, that all these characters are pretty much canon, except exaggerated. And it's true! It's a very OTT fic.
SweetnSpicy: I'm glad you liked the spin the bottle touch. That bottle was trying to tell them something!
crazysnape: I can't give you an EXACT number of parts for how long it's going to take Michael to realize how he feels. Let's just say . . . it's too many for me to count. Oh, by the way, I'm glad you like Kyle so much!
guel: I'm glad you liked the last part. Thanks for taking the time to feedback!
stinebiene: Yes, the friendship is a huge part of this fic. Will it last? Will it destruct? You'll have to wait and see. Oh, and yes, Kyle definitely does prefer one girlfriend over the other . . . uh-oh.
gnrkrystle: Yes, a whole chapter without Liz! I had a feeling you'd like it. And Michael is most definitely starting to have an issue with Max. The only problem is, drunk Michael is much more aware of that issue than sober Michael is.
pookie76: Liz really grates your cheese, huh? lol, yeah, she's definitely meant to be that way. By the end of this fic, I really have no idea how people are going to feel about her, so it should be interesting.
Rice Krispy: Well, I'm glad the last part evoked a smiley from you. Thanks for reading!
Alien_Friend: Oh, I'm so glad to have you back! I missed reading your feedback while you were gone, so thanks for feedbacking on every chapter you missed. Much appreciated. It's good to hear that Michael fascinates you. Also, you're right about Max. "hook, line, and sinker" is a really great way to describe his feelings for Maria.
tequathisy: You're right, M+M and Max are the only ones who truly don't know. But even Max has his suspicions . . . thanks for reading!

ETA: I made another video for this fic, which you can find here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Chr5j8H9tE
I tried to find some song lyrics that seemed to match every character in this fic, and then I made a video out of it. Because God knows I would never be doing anything productive, like studying, lol.









Part 36








7:35, Liz thought when she glanced at her bedside clock that morning. Michael will be up by now. She reached over and picked up her phone—it was a real lame one, one of those really old, really stupid Sabrina the Teenage Witch phones that “predicted” when someone was calling. She’d had it ever since she was a little girl. Her parents didn’t want her to get rid of it. They said it had sentimental value. It probably did.

She dialed his cell phone number, missing him. Spending the weekend with her parents was nice. It was hard having them all the way in Nebraska and seeing them only once a month, if she was lucky; but she found herself missing college, missing her dorm room, even. Mostly missing her boyfriend.

Oh, she couldn’t wait to get back to him.

It took him awhile, but finally he answered. “Yeah?”

Uh-oh. He sounded groggy. But it was 7:35. It wasn’t that early.

“Michael, hey,” she said. “It’s just me.”

“Liz?”

“Yeah. Who else?”

“Oh,” was all he said. “What time is it?”

“7:35,” she answered. “Well, 7:36 now. I figured you’d be up.”

“On a Sunday?”

She bit her bottom lip and confessed, “Okay, I actually knew you’d be asleep; I just wanted to talk to you.”

He sighed heavily, sounding completely out of it.

“Michael?” she asked. “You still there?”

“Sort of,” he replied. “Talk soft. I’m really hung-over.”

“Oh,” she said. “So you went out and partied last night?”

“Yep, Saturday nights. That’s what they’re for.”

“Sounds fun,” she said, although she could sympathize with the hang-over. She’d had exactly one in her entire life, and it had been absolutely horrible. But at least now she could say that she’d gotten drunk. That was, like, a college rite of passage, and she planned to do it again and again if it would impress Michael. “So, I’ll be flying back today,” she said. “I’m really excited to see you.”

“Yep,” he said.

“Are you excited to see me?”

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna be at the airport to pick me up?”

“If I’m okay to drive, yeah,” he said. “If not, Max will be there.”

“Well, I really hope you’re there,” she said. “I can’t wait to see you. I know it’s only been two days, but it feels like it’s been forever since I--” She cut off abruptly when she heard a voice in the background.

“Michael? Is that Liz?”

I know that voice, she thought. I definitely know that voice. “Michael?” she said. “Is that Maria?”

“Wha-what?” he sputtered, sounding completely confused.

“Is that Maria?” she asked again, louder and more forcefully this time.

“Uh . . . yeah,” he said. “She got smashed, too.”

For some reason, Liz really didn’t like the thought of that. “So you guys got drunk together?”

“Uh, I think she got drunker than I did.”

“Michael,” Liz heard Maria say over the phone. “Move over. You’re hogging all the covers.”

Liz sat up straight in her bed, jealousy racing through her veins. “What?” she demanded. “Where are you guys?”

“Just in my room,” he answered.

“In your bed?” Her mind raced with the possibilities. What if they had gotten so drunk that they’d slept together? Or what if it hadn’t taken alcohol to get them to give in to temptation? What if they’d just . . .

“Liz, can you just . . . not talk so loud? Please?” he asked. “My head feels like it’s on fire.”

She sighed heavily, disappointed. “Fine, I’ll just . . . I’ll see you later.” She hung up the phone, leaving it at that, hoping and praying that she was wrong about Michael and Maria, hoping that they had just indulged in drinking, not each other.

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

Michael got in the shower that morning and almost fell back asleep. It had taken Kyle’s impatient banging on the door and moaning, “I gotta piss!” to wake him up again and hurry him to finish. He skipped shaving his face that morning, figuring it would suck if he fell asleep with a razor near his skin, and tiredly plodded out to the kitchen for breakfast.

Max, of course, was already awake, sitting at the counter, and multi-tasking by eating a bowl of cereal while reading biology.

“What’s up, man?” Michael said, heading for the refrigerator himself.

“Nothing much,” Max replied. “How are you feeling? Hung-over?”

Michael chuckled, taking out the half-empty milk carton and shutting the door. “Not as bad as Maria. She’s gonna be asleep ‘til noon, I bet. Maybe later.” He grabbed a bowl from the cupboards, then sat down beside Max and grabbed the box of cereal from where it sat on the counter.

“Yeah, she had a pretty wild night last night, didn’t she?” Max said.

“Oh, yeah.” Michael couldn’t even remember how many beers he’d seen her drink. He’d been watching her the whole time, though, making sure she didn’t go too overboard. He liked to think of it as his job, taking care of her. And his other job was pissing her off. He was equally good at both.

“You think she’s gonna be okay to go out on a date tonight?” Max asked. “'Cause I kinda wanted to take her out to eat.”

Michael made a face. That sounded so boring. “You should take her to a party. Girl likes to party.”

“Yeah, but . . . I don’t,” Max pointed out.

“Dude, that doesn’t matter to chicks. They want what they want when they want it.”

“Well, there’s no parties on Sunday night,” Max reasoned.

“Yeah, there are,” Michael informed him. There was a party every night somewhere. You just had to know where to look.

“Well . . . I wanna take her out to eat,” Max said. “And she’s my girlfriend, so . . .”

Michael couldn’t help but feel as though he’d struck a nerve. Max sounded sort of . . . pissed. “Sorry, man,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything.” He busied himself with emptying some cereal into his bowl and adding in milk, hoping Max would pull the stick out of his ass fast.

“No, I’m sorry,” Max apologized. “I didn’t mean anything, either. I’m just . . .”

Michael dipped his spoon into his cereal and began to eat. “You alright, man?”

Max sighed heavily and closed his book. That alone was enough to make Michael stop what he was doing and pay attention. Max rarely ever closed a textbook. What was the world coming to?

“Can I ask you something?” Max said, sounding serious. But then again, Max always sounded serious.

“Yeah, whatever,” Michael replied flippantly, though the truth was, Max was freaking him out. Closing his book . . . that was just too weird.

Max wet his lips, seemingly struggling to get the words out. “You know how Maria’s not exactly the committed type?”

“Hmm.” Michael grinned. He wasn’t exactly the committed type, either.

“I’m just . . . I’m wondering . . .” Max attempted to explain. “It’s not that I don’t trust her; I do. It’s just that . . . well, considering her history . . . I mean she’s never really . . . I’ve never really, either, but it wasn’t by choice. You know, and I just . . . I really . . . I do . . . it’s just this little piece of nagging doubt—not doubt, just . . . curiosity or--”

“Max,” Michael cut in, unable to take anymore. “While I’m still young.”

“Right,” Max said. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is . . . was Maria committed to me last night?”

The question came as no big shock. Max had built up to it enough. “Yeah, she was, man,” Michael told him.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Michael didn’t know why Max sounded so surprised. As much as he liked to tease Maria about all sorts of things, he really did think she could do anything she set her mind to, and that included having a real boyfriend.

“Oh, good,” Max said. “I knew she would. I just . . . like I said, curiosity.”

“Yeah.”

But Max wasn’t done yet. “So she didn’t hook up with anyone?”

Michael grunted. “No.”

“And she wasn’t kissing anyone?”

“No.”

“And she didn’t dance all over anyone or anything like that?”

Michael was about to say ‘no’ for the third time when he lifted his eyebrow and remembered.

Her hand smoothing down his chest, her hips shaking effortlessly, mesmerizing . . .

She had done some dancing. With him.

What the hell? No, he thought. She just likes to dance. That’s all.

“Michael?” Max asked.

“What?” he said, coming back from his thoughts. “No. I told you, Maxwell, she was committed.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did.” Max laughed a little and said, “I guess I’m just paranoid.”

“Well, you don’t need to be,” Michael said. “You like her; she likes you, too. Simple as that.”

“Right, simple. I know,” Max said, smiling a little now. “Yeah.” He reopened his book again, and Michael felt a feeling of normalcy settle over things again. Max reading his book. That was as normal as it got.

But Maria dancing with him definitely wasn’t normal. At all. And he couldn’t forget, he’d danced with her back.

She’s just a flirtatious person, he rationalized, staring down at his cereal blankly. And so am I. We’re flirtatious people, and we were drunk. It doesn’t mean anything.

He shrugged and dipped his spoon into his cereal again. “Hmm.”

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

When Liz got off her plane, she eagerly looked around for Michael. But she didn’t see him anywhere.

Duh, he’s not a passenger. He can’t go beyond the security checkpoint, she reminded herself. He’ll be waiting for me up there.

She made her way through the small Santa Fe airport, rolling her suitcase behind her. A man tried to stop her and get her to participate in an airline satisfaction survey, but she politely declined and continued on her way. She had a boyfriend she needed to see.

Once she got back up to the security checkpoint, she was sure she would see him. But she still didn’t. Her eyes settled on Max, and the smile she had been displaying fell at once. Max. Not Michael. Not her boyfriend.

He’s probably with Maria, she thought dismally, making her way around the security scanners toward him, trying not to act ungrateful. Max had probably gone out of his way to come pick her up. It was nice of him. He was a nice guy.

“Hi, Max,” she said.

“Hey,” he returned. “Did you have a nice flight?”

“It was okay,” she said with a small shrug.

“Well, uh . . . well, Michael wanted me to tell you that he would’ve been here himself; he’s just been fallin’ asleep all day and didn’t wanna get behind the wheel.”

“Oh,” Liz said, again trying her best to conceal her overwhelming disappointment. “Well, thank you for coming.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling pleasantly. “Well, uh . . . let’s go, shall we?”

“We shall,” she said as they walked off. But now, she wasn’t sure where she was going to. If Michael had been there to pick her up, she would have gone home with him without a doubt.

But Michael hadn’t been there.

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

“Sleeping?”

Michael opened his eyes when Maria sat down beside him on the couch. “Just resting my eyes,” he said.

“Oh my god. Seriously?” She gave him a look and shook her head.

“Nice to see you’re finally awake,” he commented.

In response, she nodded and yawned.

“Max is taking you out for dinner tonight,” he informed her.

“What? Why?”

“’Cause you guys are dating.”

She groaned. “I’m not even hungry.”

“Oh, we both know that’s a lie,” he said. “You’re always hungry for cum.”

She whacked him on the shoulder and said, “Ass.”

He chuckled. “So,” he said, “do you even remember anything about last night?”

She was silent as she thought about it for a moment, and then she said, “I remember Spin the Bottle.”

“Yeah, that was freaky,” he agreed.

“And I remember . . .” She trailed off quickly and said, “Never mind.”

“What?” he prompted, sensing what she had been about to say. “Dancin’ all up on me?”

“I was not on you,” she denied.

He grinned. “Yeah, you were.”

She looked at him in exasperation and said, “I can’t help it if the rhythm takes me over.”

He just shrugged. “I wasn’t complaining.” And he wouldn’t complain if she decided to do it again and again, either. The girl knew how to move . . .

Just then, the front door opened.

“Hey, welcome home, Liz,” Michael said before he even saw who walked in. It was just Max. “Or not,” he added after the fact.

Max smiled a little and shut the door.

“Evans, where’s my girlfriend?” Michael asked him.

Max hesitated a bit before answering. “She asked me to drop her off at her dorm room.”

“Wait, you mean instead of here?” Michael was confused.

Max nodded.

“Ooh,” Maria said teasingly. “What’d you do wrong?”

He ignored her for the moment and got to his feet, wondering the same thing himself. “Girls are so weird,” he muttered as he grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

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

Which room is Liz’s again? Michael asked himself as he walked down the fifth floor hallway, glancing at all the names on the doors. He couldn’t remember. He and Liz spent most of their time together at his house. It just worked out better that way. The beds in the dorm rooms were too small to do anything.

Not that he was doing anything these days, having lost that freakin’ bet . . .

Wait, am I even on the right floor? he wondered, looking around in confusion. He perked up when he spotted something that looked . . . well, not familiar, but damn good. Two blonde girls, freshman-looking, walking out of the bathroom in just their towels, pointing at him and whispering excitedly to each other, “That’s Michael Guerin.”

He grinned and waved at them, causing them to blush and giggle as they scampered off down the hallway.

Oh, yeah, he thought, pleased. I’ve still got it. He glanced at the door to his left, then, and noticed that his feet had indeed taken him to the right place. Liz’s name was scrawled on the whiteboard attached to the door, along with a bunch of comments left by other girls on the floor.

You’re so lucky, one comment read. I love your boyfriend!

Michael smirked and knocked on the door. After a moment, he heard Liz sigh heavily from inside, and then she came to open the door. She didn’t smile at him. She didn't even look happy.

“I thought you’d be glad to see me,” he said.

She walked back into her room, leaving the door open for him. “And I thought you’d be there to pick me up at the airport,” she muttered.

“What, didn’t Max tell you?” he said, stepping into the room. “I was tired; I--”

“Didn’t wanna drive, I know,” she filled in. “Sorry I’m such a burden.”

He shut the door, confused by the way this conversation was spiraling downhill so fast. “I never said you were a burden, Liz. I said I was tired.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She flopped down on her bed, still looking angry.

He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight,” he said, trying to sort it out in his head. “You’re pissed at me ‘cause, for once in my life, I was actually responsible?”

“No, I just wish you would’ve been there,” she explained. “I feel like there’s this whole part of your life I’m not a part of.”

What the hell? Michael thought. “And which part is that?” Until now, he hadn’t been aware that his life had parts. He’d thought it was just one whole thing. Stupid him.

“Just . . . parts,” she replied, not clarifying it one bit.

He shook his head and stared at her in utter bewilderment. “I don’t get this.”

She groaned in exasperation and said, “Oh, Michael . . .”

Parts, he thought. Parts of my life.

What?

He shrugged a little and reached back for the doorknob. “Sorry I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

“Michael, wait.”

But he didn’t wait. He opened the door and left the room without another word.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

pookie76: You make an interesting point, that it takes more than "sleeping with one girl" to be in a relationship. Michael doesn't understand that. To him, that's the closest to a relationship he's ever gotten.
nibbles: You understand my Liz character so well! Everything you said in your feedback about her was spot-on. You describe her so much better than I can.
starcrazed: Hey, I'm glad to see you're still reading! Don't worry, it's not wrong to like to see her and Michael fighting. This isn't going to be their last disagreement by any means.
stinebiene: I think it's interesting that you noted Max's oh-so-calm reaction to Michael and Maria sharing a bed. Max doesn't really have much of a backbone. He lets people walk all over him while maintaining the delusion that he's actually happy with the way his life is.
Rice Krispy: Okay, I'm giving you CPR, I'm giving you CPR . . . not helping? Poo. lol.
crazysnape: You also make an interesting point, that Max in this fic is actually a lot like Max on the show. He would rather be passive, whereas Michael would rather be active.
grnkrystle: You're right, the reason why Liz is so annoying right now is because she knows Michael and Maria have feelings for each other. Maybe it's subconscious knowledge. She is really trying to convince herself that what she and Michael have is real. That's the difference between Liz and Max here. While Liz is trying to convince herself, Max truly believes.
Alien_Friend: I'm glad you liked the video and the update. Max definitely needs some balls. He's trying, he really is, but he's just too nice! I'm glad he fascinates you, too. He definitely has his own journey to go on in this fic. I think Max might surprise a few people much later on in this fic . . . (lol about the men are too chaotic and that's why there's women thing. For sure!)
tequathisy:

If Michael was dating Maria but still so close to Liz and going out with her and sharing his bed with her, us candies would be spitting nails.

And THAT is perspective! And so true. Nice.
ForeignLoveMonkey: Hey, glad to see you're still reading, too!

Thank you ALL for the wonderful feedback!



Alright, so . . . I hope nobody got their hopes up on the last part, thinking Michael and Liz were just going to be over, because . . . well, remember when I said that sometimes you have to take two steps back before you take one step forward? These characters typically take about ten steps back before they take one forward.

This part is a little bit shorter. My apologies. I wanted to leave it at a cliff-hanger ending, though.








Part 37







Maria stood in front of the dance team at practice the next morning, mirroring their moves and watching them. She smiled and watched in excitement as they started to get it. It wasn’t perfect yet, but it was getting there. They were getting there.

Well, some of them were getting there.

Her smile fell as she watched Liz. Her friend was struggling, barely keeping up with the dance’s fast pace, obviously half-assing the moves and obviously not really caring. It was when she missed an entire toe-touch that Maria reached down and stopped the music. “Okay, Liz, what’s your problem?” she said, well aware of how unsympathetic she sounded.

Liz sighed and just started to walk off.

Shit, Maria thought. There goes the captain. “Okay, the rest of you, just keep doing it with music,” she told the rest of the girls as she scurried off after her friend. “Liz, Liz, where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Liz said, running one hand through her hair.

“Well, what’s the matter?” Maria asked her. She mentally narrowed down the options in all of one second and concluded, “This is a Michael thing, isn’t it? I’m gonna kill him.”

“We got into our first fight last night,” Liz told her. “I’m kinda worried.”

“Well, what did you guys fight about?” After she and Max had gotten home from dinner that night, Michael had already locked himself in his bedroom. She hadn’t been able to ask him any questions, and her curiosity was now piqued.

Liz sighed and just looked at her, not saying anything.

“Well?” Maria prompted.

“I don’t even know,” Liz admitted. “I just . . .” She stared at Maria a moment longer, then said, “Okay, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me.”

Maria didn’t really nod, even though she intended to be. She just gave a confused, questioning look.

After a slight hesitation, Liz asked a question that almost knocked Maria off her feet. “Do you have feelings for my boyfriend?”

Oh god, Maria thought. Honesty really had been her intention, but she couldn’t go that route now. Not with this question. Denial, absolute. That was the best solution. Even though it was a lie. Even though she did have feelings for Michael. Gross, disgusting, unavoidable feelings. “No,” she said. “I hate your boyfriend, Liz, remember?”

“Yeah,” Liz said quietly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean . . . I’m just . . . insecure is all, I guess.”

Maria quickly tried to steer the subject in a different direction. “You guys already had sex, Liz. How can you still be insecure?”

Liz laughed a little and said, “I know. It’s just that . . . sometimes I feel like you have a deeper connection to him than I do.”

Maria wasn’t sure what to say to that, but she tried to say something reassuring. “Well, he’s been my friend—and I use that term loosely—for eight years, Liz. He’s been your boyfriend for two weeks.”

“Yeah,” Liz said quietly. “I guess I’ll have to apologize to him.”

“Make him apologize to you, too,” Maria suggested.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Make him apologize anyway.”

Liz laughed a little and said, “Right, okay.” She glanced over at the rest of the team, going through the dance again, looking exhausted. “I guess I’d better go be captain,” she said.

“Yeah.” Maria stayed behind as her friend rejoined the rest of the team. The knowledge that she had just told one of the biggest lies of her entire life began to sink in, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

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

What the hell’s taking my spaghetti so long? Maria wondered absentmindedly, peering around Max, trying to get a glimpse into the kitchen as waiters walked in and back out again. Seriously, how long does it take to make spaghetti? She wouldn’t complain too much, though. At least Max had taken her to an Italian restaurant, which Michael wouldn’t even. No, he’d have asked, ‘Hey, how ‘bout some crab rangoons and other Chinese nastiness?’ Jerk.

“Two date nights in a row,” Max commented. “How do I rate?”

Maria smiled at him a little and said, “You’re my boyfriend.” God, it felt weird saying that.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling as well. He looked so happy to hear that.

Oh god, she thought. He really likes me. Looking back now, she realized she should have known sooner. Max had always agreed with her over Kyle and Michael. He had always blushed around her. He had always gotten sort of nervous and smiley. The signs had all been there. She just hadn’t noticed them.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked her suddenly.

Michael. His name popped into her head instantly. No doubt about it. She was thinking about Michael; she always was. She was imagining being on a date with him, wondering if it could ever work out. Would they play some footsie under the table, or would they end up in a heated argument over dessert, disrupting all the other people around them?

She’d never know, but her money—if she had any money—would have been on the latter.

Shit, Max asked me a question, she remembered. But she couldn’t recall exactly what that question had been. “What’d you say?”

“I asked what you were thinking about,” he repeated.

“Oh.” Answer. “Just you,” she told him.

Again he smiled, and this time he leaned over the table to give her a kiss. Max really was a good kisser. Surprisingly good.

Yet, she wondered how good of a kisser Michael was.

She gently pulled away from the kiss and looked down at her empty plate, feeling guilty for thinking these things around Max. He was such a good guy, a lifelong friend, and a really good boyfriend, too.

“Oh, right,” Max said. “PDA.”

She would let him believe that.

Clearing her throat quietly, she said exactly what she had been thinking about before thoughts of Michael had invaded her mind. “Hmm, I wonder what’s taking my spaghetti so long.”

“I don’t know,” Max replied. “It’s probably my lasagna. Want me to go check?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Silence descended upon them, and Maria couldn’t think of anything to say. She thought about saying something about the weather, because weather discussion was always good filler, but then she remembered that she didn’t know anything about the weather. She hardly went outside and liked it that way. So what should she talk about? Her sucky classes? Kyle’s ménage tua? Reality TV?

Max found a topic before she did, but it wasn’t one that she liked. “So do you think Michael and Liz made up yet?”

Her eyes grew a bit wider at the mention of Michael’s name, and she hoped he didn’t notice it. “I don’t know,” she said. “They might be making up, but they’re not making up, you know?”

“Oh, right, the bet.”

“Yeah, he sucks.”

Max chuckled. “Well, I know you two have your friction--”

“Friction?” she echoed, her eyes growing even wider. “No, there’s no friction. I only have sex with you.”

“Uh . . .” He seemed momentarily confused as he said, “No, I meant friction like . . . arguments. Like, you guys argue a lot.”

“Oh.” She felt embarrassed. “Right.”

“And . . .” He paused for a contemplative moment and then asked, “What was I saying?”

“I don’t know.”

And then it dawned on him. “Oh! I was saying, even though you guys have your . . . friction, I think you want them to work things out. Right?”

“Them?” she echoed in an effort to avoid answering the question.

“Yeah, Michael and Liz.”

No. Not really. “Sure,” she said, wishing they were talking about something else.

“I think they actually make a good couple,” Max went on. “Like opposites of a magnetic pole, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, thinking to herself, Magnetic pole? What?

“I think they might actually make a go out of it.”

She wanted him to shut up about the other couple, but she didn’t want to arouse suspicions by saying anything, so she lifted her foot underneath the table and brushed it against his inner thigh. That would shut him up.

“Oh,” he said, squirming a little in surprise. “Wow.”

She inched her foot closer to his crotch, noting his reaction. He definitely wasn’t thinking about Michael and Liz anymore. And that was exactly what she wanted.

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

I should be doing homework, Michael thought momentarily as he walked into his room, listening to his iPod. Nah. He bobbed his head to the beat of a rap song for a bit—he really hated rap, but Maria was starting to get him to like the shit, what with all her sexy hip hop dances. When the song came to an abrupt end, he set his iPod down on the nightstand beside his lamp and did what he was becoming accustomed to doing every night: he undid his pants.

He was just about to take himself in his hand and jack off when he heard a voice come from the doorway. “Um . . .”

“Oh, shit,” he said when he spun around to see Liz. He quickly put himself back together, hoping they would reconcile quickly so that her hand could take the place of his.

“Hi,” she said, blushing and smiling a little. She looked a lot less pissed than she had twenty-four hours ago.

“Hi,” he echoed.

“I’m here to apologize,” she blurted before he could even ask.

Awesome, he thought.

“I was . . . totally neurotic yesterday.”

He nodded, not one to disagree with that.

“I think I just worry,” she went on, “because I really like you.”

“Well, I like you, too, Liz,” he assured her. “What’s there to worry about?”

She smiled nervously. “Well, how about the fact that you’re super popular and any girl would sleep with you if you just asked?”

“Not Maria,” he pointed out.

“Oh, don’t be too sure.”

“No.” For a brief moment, he pictured it. “Really?”

“Michael, you’re, like, the most popular person ever.”

“Yeah,” he said, not one to disagree with that, either. “But in case you haven’t noticed, you’re pretty popular these days, too.” He saw her smile and said, “Yeah, you know you are. Dance team captain, my girlfriend. It’s kinda inevitable.”

“I guess,” she said. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being such a girl.”

“No, that’s okay,” he told her. “Trust me, I’m glad you’re a girl. We’d have issues if you were a guy.”

She laughed and swayed closer toward him. “You’re so funny.”

“I know,” he said, grinning. “So we’re good?”

“Yeah,” she said. “As long as you kiss me.”

He nodded and leaned in to press his lips against hers. That was something he could do well.

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

When Maria returned home with Max that night, she heard playful, laughing sounds coming from Michael’s bedroom and immediately grew suspicious.

“I guess they made up,” Max remarked.

“Just go wait for me in the bedroom,” she told him, determined to bust those two. If Michael was trying to get some action and cheap out on the bet without her knowing about it, he obviously didn’t know who he was dealing with.

When Max headed into his bedroom, Maria made her way down the hallway to Michael’s. She crept quietly, on her tip-toes, hoping to remain unheard.

“Oh my god,” she heard Liz giggle. “And that actually feels good?”

“Hell yeah.”

Maria pushed open the door and exclaimed, “Aha!” pointing a finger at the duo.

Liz shrieked and removed her hand from where it had been wrapped around Michael’s cock. Michael just grinned at Maria, making no effort to cover himself up. “Thought you’d catch me in the act, huh, baby?” he teased. “I’m no cheater.”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” she reminded him. “You’ve still got three long weeks ahead of you, and I plan to monitor you like a . . . thing that monitors.”

“Okay.” He turned to Liz and chuckled. “Sex Nazi, I swear.”

Liz just giggled and said, “Maria . . .”

Maria rolled her eyes, unable to stand the sight of the two of them in bed together any longer, and shut the door. She would be a Sex Nazi because, truthfully, a large part of her liked this celibate Michael. It wasn’t as though he were having sex with her, but he wasn’t having sex with Liz, either.

“Maria, you comin’?” Max called from the bedroom.

She’d almost forgotten about him. The poor guy was probably anxious to get started. She’d gotten him all worked up at the restaurant and left him hanging. “Coming,” she replied, heading towards Max’s bedroom.

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

Sometimes, Kyle had the hardest time waking up in the morning. When he was asleep in his bed by himself, it was easy—well, easier—but when Isabel and Tess were lying beside him, it was almost impossible.

He forced himself out of bed that morning and headed upstairs to piss and get some coffee. He had just finished the pissing part when he heard a knock on the door. He just stood there a minute in confusion, trying to think of who it might be. No one they knew woke up before 9:00 a.m. When no one in particular popped into his mind, he decided to just go see who it was. He opened the door wearing only his boxers and was both shocked and terrified to see the face that stared back at him.

“Whoa.”









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

starcrazed: lol, okay, seven steps backward. Not ten. It's still pretty far back, though. Thanks for reading!
pookie76: I'm glad you're so hooked on the fic! And don't worry about ranting about Liz. It's an easy thing to do. She's that kind of character. I'm not sure how anyone will feel about her by the end of this fic.
Alien_Friend: Yes, it is unfortunate that Liz didn't stand her ground in her and Michael's little argument. She will be given more opportunities to stand her ground, but the question is, will she take them?
SweetnSpicy: Well, you certainly had lots of great guesses as to his is at the door. One of them is right!
Mag: Max is most definitely the nicest person in the story. Don't worry, he will never be a bad guy. But he's definitely going to have some regrets.
stinebiene: Oh, no, a reader on strike? lol, I know I'm cruel with the cliffhanger. Since you waited, though, now you won't have to be cliff-hanged.
Behrgirl21: Hey, I'm glad to see you're still reading! And anytime you leave feedback, I'll get to see that SEXY icon of yours! lol. I'm glad you're getting so into the story. It's okay if the characters bug you. They're kind of supposed to.
nibbles:

Have mercy on your readers April. We're faithful desciples, we worship at your alter daily, we're building a golden effigy of you right now. Please, throw us a bone. (One that Liz doesn't get her hands sticky on!)

Oh my god, you have no idea how much this cracked me up!
Rice Krispy: Thinking about this fic when you're supposed to be studying? Gasp! lol, I always do that, too. Fics are so distracting. You're right about Max being a "blind man walking into traffic." Great way to phrase it. He has some difficult times ahead of him.
grnkrystle: Oh, no! Last update, I was giving CPR to a reader, now I'm putting you into cardiac arrest? Shame on me. lol, so you're willing to give Max some loving, huh? I figured as much. Thanks for reading!
crazysnape: Well, you'll see who is at the door in this part . . . Thanks for the feedback!
guel: You think it should be the parents at the door, huh? Well, it is one of the parents, as a matter of fact. Thanks for reading this fic!









Part 38







Maria felt Max shifting around beside her that morning and wished he would stop. She wanted to keep sleeping. He might be set on getting up and going to class that morning, but she sure as hell wasn’t. If she just happened to sleep in, that was fine by her.

She was about to tell Max to stop moving when she heard the bedroom door squeak open. “Oh my god,” she grumbled, assuming only one person would be rude enough to wake her in the morning. “Michael, I swear . . .” She groggily reached over onto Max’s bedside table, grabbed a picture frame, and through it at the door.

“Hey!”

She knew immediately that that wasn’t Michael’s voice, so she sat up and squinted. “Kyle?”

“Yeah,” he said, “and if that’s what poor Mike has to deal with, my heart goes out to him.”

“What do you want, Kyle?” she grumbled, pulling the sheet up to cover her naked self.

“Uh . . .” This time he wasn’t so vocal with his reply. All he said was, “There’s someone here to see you.”

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion, wondering who it could be. Ted, the guy she’d slept with, like, five months ago? She’d always assumed he had stalker-like qualities. Maybe now they were starting to kick in. “Who?” she asked.

“Just . . .” He didn’t give her an answer. “Just get dressed.” And with that, he shut the door.

Maria sat there, utterly baffled. It had to be Ted. Or maybe a police officer. Maybe someone had found out about the way she’d sleazed it up with her professors over the years and now she was going to be questioned about it. But that was highly unlikely. She was sneaky.

She got out of bed and yawned. She was tired and totally not ready to get up yet, but she obviously didn’t have a choice.

“Maria?” Max said, feeling around for her.

“Go back to sleep, Max,” she told him, reaching down on the floor to pick up one of his t-shirts. She slipped it on over her head, figured it was long enough, and decided to forgo panties underneath. Hey, if there was a police officer waiting for her, she might need to seduce him, too.

She walked out of the bedroom scratching her head and squinting against the brightness of the living room with the morning light shining in through the window. “Alright, who the hell made me get up so early?” she demanded, looking around. When her eyes settled upon the person standing by the door, she almost thought she was still asleep. Almost.

“Mom?”

“Maria.”

No, she thought. What? No. Her mother, Amy, was . . . negative energy in a nutshell. Maria had no desire to see her and couldn’t help but wonder why she was there after years of staying away.

“Told you someone was here,” Kyle muttered.

She would have preferred stalker Ted, or even a police officer. Anything but this. “What’re you doing here?” she asked her mom.

“I came to see you,” Amy replied.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my daughter.”

Maria actually laughed at that. “Really?”

Amy gave her a look of all too familiar exasperation and said, “Can’t you just say you’re happy to see me?”

“I’m not happy to see you.”

Kyle let out a heavy sigh and immediately retreated. “I’m gonna go back downstairs.”

Once he was gone, Amy didn’t hold any punches. “So nothing’s changed,” she commented. “You’re still living with the same friends, dressing the same way.”

Maria glanced down at the t-shirt and said, “I just got out of bed!”

“And who were you in bed with?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Or do you even know his name?”

“Uh, yes!” she grunted in exasperation. She marched forward, refusing to back down against this dreadful woman. “You know what, Mom? You’re not welcome here, so why don’t you just take your bible and go thump it somewhere else.”

“This is the thanks I get?” Amy asked in disbelief. “I pay for your college, I turn a blind eye when you make reckless decisions . . .”

“Turn a blind eye?” Maria echoed. “Mom, all you’ve ever done is judge me!”

Before either of them could say more, the door to Michael’s bedroom opened, and the worst thing happened: Michael poked his head out. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Oh, shit,” Maria muttered.

“Michael Guerin,” Amy said with an oh-so-fake smile. “Long time, no see.”

His only response was the one word Amy couldn’t stand. “Fuck.” And he immediately disappeared into his bedroom again.

“Oh, he was always such a charming boy,” Amy said sarcastically.

A moment later, Max came out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who Maria was talking to and said, “Oh. Hi, Ms. DeLuca.”

“Hello, Max,” she said, smiling a genuine smile this time. Then she glanced at his bedroom for a moment, then back at Maria, obviously connecting the dots that they had come out of the same room.

Maria looked away, not wanting to hear all of her mother’s little comments.

“Well,” Amy said, “one thing you’ve done right.”

“Mom,” Maria said sternly, “I can’t take this right now.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Amy said, “because mark my words, honey, I am staying in Santa Fe until we work things out.”

Maria felt her anxiety start to kick in. It was a feeling she’d always felt around her mother, and even after all this time apart, she still felt it full force.

She hated her.

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

Michael leaned back against the door, shell-shocked. “Oh, shit,” he said over and over again. “Shit, shit, shit.” Amy DeLuca. He was sweating like a whore in church now. That woman would stab him in his sleep if she weren’t so Christian.

“Michael, what is it?” Liz asked, sitting up sleepily.

“Pretty much the end of the world,” he told her.

“What?”

Well, that had been exaggerating it a little bit. “No,” he said, crawling back into bed beside her where it still felt safe. “But it is pretty bad.”

“What is it?” Liz asked, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him.

“Maria’s mom,” he replied. “That woman has never liked me.”

“Oh, I find that hard to believe,” Liz said, smiling.

“No, I’m serious, Liz. This is serious.”

She laughed.

“Liz. I’m not kidding. That woman’s like . . . don’t mess with Texas, you know; she’s . . . she’s Texan.”

“Is she really that bad?”

“Yes!” He knew Liz wouldn’t get it until she actually came face to face with the bitch. He, too, had underestimated the judgment of Amy DeLuca’s glare until he’d actually been the object of it.

“Well, why does she hate you?”

“That’s exactly it, Liz. I don’t know!”

“Well, she sounds terribly unreasonable,” Liz decided.

“Oh, and that’s understating it,” he assured her. Suddenly, as he lay there, worrying about the situation, an idea occurred to him. It was sort of Eureka-type. It just popped into his mind. “Hey, I know,” he said. “You can make her like me better.”

“I can?”

“Yeah. She’ll like you. Trust me.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

“That’s great,” he said. “You befriend her, tell her I’m not all that bad, and I won’t be so freaked out around her.”

Liz shrugged. “I guess I could do that.” She tossed the covers aside and started for the door.

“Uh, Liz?” he said, stopping her.

She whirled around, and he suggested, “You might wanna put on some clothes first. Amy DeLuca is not into nudity.”

“Oh.” Liz frowned. "Then she better not stay in this house."

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

Kyle cowered under the blankets, crying, “Protect me!” to Isabel and Tess when he heard loud, angry footsteps stomping down the stairs. Moments later, his head was being swatted at by Maria’s angry hands. “Ow, ow!” he yelped.

“What were you thinking, Kyle?” she demanded. “Inviting that woman into our house? Are you crazy?’

“Hey, I didn’t invite her,” he said, reluctantly peeking out from under the blanket. “She kind of just . . . eased her way inside. I’m not thrilled to see her, either, you know.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Isabel asked.

“My mom decided to pop in for a surprise visit,” Maria informed her. “She’s the devil, so you guys better just stay down here.” She turned to leave, but then turned around again and added, “And if she asks, you’re all just really good friends.”

“But--” Tess started.

“Really good friends,” Maria repeated sternly.

Kyle nodded. Sounded like a plan to him. He breathed a sigh of relief when Maria headed upstairs, thankful that he had survived the wrath of DeLuca Jr.

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

Here we go, Liz thought as she left Michael’s room and made her way out into the living room. A thin, modestly dressed woman with short brown hair was walking around, surveying everything, paying special attention to the picture of Maria, Michael, Max, and Kyle at a frat party on New Year’s Eve. They had all been drunk, except for Max of course. Liz watched as she shook her head, looking disappointed, and set the picture back down.

She can’t be that bad, Liz told herself, putting a smile on her face. “Hi, Ms. DeLuca,” she said, nearing the woman.

“Oh, hi,” Amy said, looking her over skeptically. “How many people live here?”

“Oh, I don’t live here,” she told her. “My name’s Liz. I’m Michael’s girlfriend.” She extended her hand politely for a handshake.

Amy seemed taken aback for a moment as she shook her hand. “Oh. Michael has a girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. And how long have you been dating?”

“A few weeks.”

“Oh, so it’s not serious?”

Liz kept smiling, though she was beginning to sense that what Michael had been saying about this woman was true. She definitely wasn’t pleasant. “No, it’s serious,” she said.

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’m also Maria’s friend,” Liz added, trying as hard as she could to make a good impression. “Yeah, I just transferred here this semester, and I’m a freshman. I had this total fish-out-of-water feeling, but Maria talked to me when no one else would, made me feel really welcome.”

“Well, she always was a social butterfly,” Amy muttered.

“She and Michael have both been really great.”

“You know, I must say, I’m rather surprised your Michael’s girlfriend,” Amy commented suddenly.

Liz didn’t know what to say to that, so she just said, “What?”

“Oh, yeah. Granted, I haven’t spoken to my daughter in years, but I always thought she and Michael would be parents by now.”

“Parents?” Liz echoed. Where had that come from?

“But not married, of course,” Amy added, “because they’re not smart enough to do that.” She rolled her eyes and said, “I just always assumed they’d give in to temptation someday.”

“Huh,” she said, biting her tongue. Had she been in debate class with this woman, she would have let her have it.

Bitch, she thought. It wasn’t a word she used often. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever using it at all. But in this case, it was necessary.

“I think I’m gonna go now,” she said, still smiling. “But it was nice to meet you.”

Amy didn’t say ‘you, too,’ or ‘likewise’ or anything like that. Instead, she just nodded.

Liz stepped around her and let her fake smile turn into a real scowl as she walked out of the house. Never again was she attempting to impress that woman. From what she could gather, it was impossible.

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

Maria stood in front of her mirror, critiquing her own outfit. Jeans and a wool-knit sweater? What on earth was she thinking? That wasn’t her style.

But it was her mom’s style, which was precisely the reason why she’d gotten dressed in it.

No, what am I doing? she asked herself, yanking the sweater off again. I don’t have to suck-up to her. God knows it wouldn’t help if I did.

She put on a black spaghetti strap shirt and paired it with an off-the-shoulder black poncho instead. It definitely wasn’t her sluttiest look ever, which was probably a good thing, but she wanted to enrage her mother at least a little bit; so she exchanged the jeans for a short white skirt and black knee-high boots instead. It was actually an incredibly cute outfit, but her mother would never appreciate it. Because it showed her legs. God forbid.

Maria left her room, hoping that, miraculously, her mother would have disappeared, headed home, done something to go away. But she was still there, sitting on the couch, taking the liberty to look through all the magazines scattered about the coffee table. She seemed appalled when she came across Michael’s and Kyle’s Playboy collection. “Oh dear god,” she said quietly. When she looked up at Maria and saw what she was wearing, she said the words again with much more emphasis. “Oh dear god! Maria!” She shot to her feet, looking outraged. “How can you dress like that? People judge you by the way you look, you know.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So? Is that really the image you want to project?”

You bitch, Maria thought. You unfashionable bitch. “Yes,” she answered stubbornly.

“Oh, Maria!”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want people to look at me and think, ‘Oh, Suzy Homemaker.’”

“Well, would you rather have them think, ‘Trashy Teresa,’ because that’s what they’re thinking,” Amy assured her.

“Mom, if you can’t handle my lifestyle, why don’t you just leave?” Maria suggested.

Much to her surprise, Amy crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Fine. I’ll leave.”

Thank God, Maria thought.

“But you’re coming with me.”

“What? No!”

“I’m not talking about going all the way home,” Amy said. “I’m talking about going out for brunch. You and me, one-on-one, laying our cards on the table.”

Maria tossed her hands outward and exclaimed, “Woo-hoo! Cards. Cards, cards. Out on the table. Now please go home.”

“Maria, if you don’t come eat brunch with me, I’ll go to the dean himself and tell him all about your sexual interludes with your professors,” Amy threatened suddenly.

Maria was taken aback. “How do you know about that?”

“I didn’t,” Amy said. “Until now.”

Maria tossed her head back and groaned. When it came to manipulation, Amy DeLuca was the master. She could squeeze any juicy tidbit of info out of anyone without their realizing it. “I have class,” she lied.

“No, you don’t.”

“I . . . have a study group.”

“You don’t study.”

Maria sighed heavily, seeing the uselessness in all of this. Maybe if you just go spend some (gag me) time with her, she’ll go away, she pondered. Anything was worth a shot. “Fine,” she gave in. “I’ll go have ‘brunch’ with you, but don’t expect me to enjoy it.”

“And don’t expect me to approve of your outfit,” Amy retorted, marching arrogantly toward the door.

Maria clenched her hand into a fist, trying to hold the anger in. If there was one person in the world who truly knew how to get under her skin, it was her mother.

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

Maria scraped her fork against her plate on purpose in an attempt to annoy her mother. Amy was a stickler for table manners, and anything that was remotely impolite drove her up the wall.

“Maria, please stop that,” she said as she ate away on her scrambled eggs.

In response, Maria began tapping her fork against the plate instead.

“Maria, don’t be immature.”

“Don’t be a pain in my ass,” Maria mumbled, setting her fork down, bored then. “Are you almost done? I seriously do have class in a half an hour, and contrary to what you might think, I actually do attend. Sometimes.”

“And sleep with your professors,” Amy added. “What does Max think about that?”

“I haven’t done that since I started dating Max,” she informed her.

“How long have you been dating him? That seems to have come out of nowhere.”

Well, that was one thing Amy was right about. It had come out of nowhere. “I don’t know,” she replied. “A couple of weeks.”

“Hmm,” Amy said. “Just like Michael and Liz.”

“You met Liz?”

“Oh, yes. She was . . . satisfactory.”

Maria looked at her mother in disbelief. If sweet Liz Parker couldn’t even measure up to her standards, who the hell could?

Amy set her fork down and used her napkin to wipe off the corners of her mouth, even though there was no food there. “I think it’s good that you're dating Max, though,” she said.

“Oh my god, mark it down,” Maria mumbled. “My mom actually approves of one of my actions.”

“He’s a nice kid with a good head on his shoulders,” Amy continued. “You’d do well to stick with him. Maybe he can straighten you out.”

Maria made a face. “Straighten me out? See, that’s what I hate, you waltzing in here with this obvious mission to . . . fix me or whatever.”

“Oh, I wish to God I could fix you,” Amy said. “There’s a million things I would do. Dress you more conservatively, take away all the alcohol, make you find the Lord.”

“Yeah, that all sounds real fun,” Maria said sarcastically, “but no way.”

“If you weren’t so obstinate . . .”

“And you always do that. You use big words to try to make yourself sound smart,” Maria grumbled. “You didn’t even go to college.”

“That’s right, because unlike you, I didn’t have a mother who loved me enough to pay my way.”

“Oh, so now you love me?” Maria laughed at that. “Oh, that’s great.”

“I do love you, Maria.”

“Okay, all better.” She grunted and made an angry face. “You don’t get it, Mom. You walk around acting like you’re this perfect person, but you’re not. And you make me feel inferior any way you can. You say that I’m a failure as a daughter because you can’t admit that you’re a failure as a mother.”

When Amy said nothing in response to that, Maria knew she had struck a nerve.

“I don’t want you here,” she growled. “But then again, you don’t care about what I want.”

Amy stared right at her for a moment and then responded, “Because you want all the wrong things.”

Maria held her head in her hands and clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. If she survived this motherly invasion, it would be an utter miracle.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Evans3: Yea, another new feedbacker! Amy is like your mother, huh? Oh gosh, I feel sorry for you! Thanks for reading!
Mag: Crazy indeed! I thought I might try something new with Amy in this fic.
Alien_Friend: I'm glad you understand how Amy adds a layer to Maria. Oh, and yes, the guys are TERRIFIED of her! Like you said, she's a real witch.
SweetnSpicy: I'm gald you say you've never read Amy like this before. (And that you also like Stimulation! ) Thanks!
stinebiene: I know, I just finished re-watching the first season of Roswell, too, and I love Amy! But I just thought about it, and it didn't make sense to make her a nice person in this fic. And since that one question of yours was rhetoric, obviously you're not gonna get an answer!
pookie76: Yep, Amy is super conservative, which is pretty much the exact opposite of Maria. Thanks for continuing to read!
RiceKrispy: I wouldn't quite say that Amy understands Maria, but she definitely knows Maria. And Maria hates that.
Antarian Chick: Oh, another new feedbacker! How exciting! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. Amy and Maria definitely have a complicated relationship, and although I'm not going to have any flashbacks or anything, I think you'll understand why they don't get along. They're just two completely different people with different sets of values in life. And as for how long I'm planning to keep you in suspense about M+M . . . awhile. Let's just say that. Thanks for reading!
nibbles:

You know what I thought was hilarious, was that Michael persuaded Liz to help him make a good impression on Amy. He used his girlfriend to try and improve his standing in the eyes of the mother of the girl he's really in love with.

Once again you noticed something that I didn't even notice when writing it! You amaze me.
grnkrystle: Well, Michael's going to do his best to try to avoid Amy. (She just HATES him!) But he can't avoid her forever, so you'll definitely see some Amy/Michael stuff.





Well, this update is a few hours late. That's what happens when I sleep in.








Part 39








“So, what’s the deal with Maria and her mom?”

“Oh, where to start,” Michael pondered in response to Isabel’s question. She, Tess, and Alex all sat congregated around the kitchen counter, eagerly awaiting some answers. “The story of the DeLuca women,” he began dramatically, “is a long and complicated history.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out four bottles of beer, distributing them to each one of his friends. “It’s a story of anger and disappointment and . . .” He trailed off, struggling to fill in the gap. “And I can’t really think of any more adjectives.”

“Actually, those are abstract nouns,” Alex informed him.

Michael made face. “Whatever. The point is, they don’t get along.”

“But why not?” Tess asked. “Come on. My life needs a little drama to survive.”

“Yeah, tell us, Michael,” Isabel said with a pout.

He sighed and took one swig of beer before starting. “Alright, keep up. Amy DeLuca got pregnant when she was, like, sixteen or something. Alright? She had Maria when she was seventeen, married Maria’s dad. But everything pretty much sucked for them, so they got divorced. Maria was really young, so Amy automatically got custody. But after the divorce, Amy got really weird. Like all of a sudden, she found God; and she became this-this evangelical person, and that was all good for awhile, until Maria started high school. That’s when she started to get really . . . militant with it, you know?” he explained, liking that word. “Like, she’d get pissed if Maria got a B on a test. Well, Maria always got Cs, so Amy was always pissed. Anyway, long story short, Amy wanted Maria to be all these things, and Maria wasn’t any of ‘em, so they fought a lot and pretty much ripped each other apart until Maria headed off to college. They haven’t seen each other since she moved here almost four years ago. They haven’t even spoken for two years.”

“Wow,” Isabel said. “That’s pretty intense.”

“Yeah, but of course Amy pays for all of Maria’s tuition and stuff, so she’s probably gonna try to make her feel indebted or something,” Michael added, firmly planting himself on Maria’s side of the mother-daughter war.

“I’m glad I love my parents,” Tess said. “So she’s basically just a really big bitch?”

“Oh, worse,” Michael said. “A really big bitch who’s convinced she’s a really good Christian.”

“Oh God, those are the worst,” Alex said. “Remind me to high-tail it outta here before she gets back.”

“Yeah, she probably wouldn’t like you,” Michael said.

“What? Why not?” Alex asked, sounding offended.

“Well, ‘cause, even though you’re really smart, you wanna be a director. That’s not one of her approved careers.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. To her, if you’re a guy, you gotta be a doctor or a lawyer. If you’re a girl, you gotta be a nurse or a stay-at-home mom.”

“Not a fashion designer?” Tess asked.

“Yeah, definitely not that.”

Tess raised her eyebrows. “Okay. So I should stay away from her, too, then.”

“Oh, we all should,” he said. “But especially me.”

“Why’s that?” Isabel asked.

“Well . . . it’s weird. She loves Max, right? Thinks he, like, the second coming of Christ or something. She’s sort of on the fence about Kyle, ‘cause, you know, Kyle’s sort of . . . on the fence.”

Isabel and Tess smiled at each other.

“And me . . .” He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I don’t know what that’s about. All I know is, she’s had it out for me since day one.”

“She thinks you’re a walking hormone,” Kyle announced as he came upstairs to join the rest of the group.

“Oh, well, that much is true,” Alex said jokingly. “She’s right about that.”

Kyle came to stand beside Michael and said to him, “Yeah, she thinks Maria had a secret abortion when she was fifteen. She thinks you knocked her up.”

“What?!” he shrieked. “What the fucking hell?!”

“Yeah, she blames you for corrupting her daughter,” Kyle added with a smirk.

He held his hands out in front of himself in a sign of defense. “Her daughter was corrupted before I met her. Hell, her daughter corrupted me! You know who introduced me to my first orgy? Maria. My fist illegal drug? Maria. My first time bein’ chased by the cops? Oh, that was all Maria’s fault.”

“She’s crazy,” Kyle agreed.

“Yeah, but crazy in a good way, you know? Like fun crazy. But her mom . . .” He turned back to his captive audience of Tess, Isabel, and Alex, and gave them one further warning. “She’s crazy in a bad way. Don’t fuck with her. She’s full-blown mentally insane.”

“Hello, Michael.”

He threw his hands up in the air and literally screamed (a high-pitched, girly scream) when he heard Amy’s chilling voice in the doorway behind him. “Ah!” He threw himself down on the floor behind the counter, hiding from her even though it was useless.

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

Max happily hid out in his bedroom all day. There was a lot of commotion out in the living room and kitchen, mostly Maria yelling at her mom, sometimes yelling at Michael, and sometimes yelling at . . . air apparently. Once in awhile, either Michael or Amy would yell back, but there was a definite difference. With Michael, there was a hint of humor in the yelling. With Amy, there was no such thing.

Max would have loved to go out there and rescue his girlfriend, but he just wasn’t sure how. He had a good relationship with Amy DeLuca and wanted to keep it that way.

He was studying only halfheartedly when there was a soft knock on his door. “Come in,” he said.

The door slid open a bit, and Amy peeked her head inside.

“Ms. DeLuca,” he said, setting his biology book aside. “Hi.”

“Hi, Max,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude on your studying.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I study all the time.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said, gently shutting the door. “You were always so smart.”

He shrugged. “I try.”

Amy smiled and sat down beside him. “Oh, it’s been a hectic day, hasn’t it?” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Are you . . . are you staying here?”

“I am,” she said with an affirmative nod. “It took awhile, but I finally . . . convinced Maria.”

Max nodded, too, though he knew that ‘convinced’ was probably just a fancy word for ‘bribed.’ “Well, you know, you’re welcome to sleep in my room,” he told her.

“Oh, I’m fine on the couch.”

“No, really, it’s no problem,” he assured her. Then, remembering how he and Maria had had sex in that bed last night, he reconsidered. “Or . . . the couch is comfy, too.”

“I’ll be fine there,” she repeated. “But thank you for offering. You’re such a gentleman.”

He just smiled. Even though he was used to these compliments from Amy, it was weird knowing that she gave them to no one else.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “how did you and my daughter start dating anyway? You seem like such opposites.”

He laughed a little and said, “Well, we are a little different, but maybe it’s just true that opposites attract.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But Max . . . I love my daughter, but you could do so much better than her.”

To that, he said nothing. True, Amy said she loved her daughter, but she did have an awfully odd way of showing it.

“I mean, she’s . . . unmotivated, promiscuous, out-of-control a lot of the time. You’re not any of those things.”

“Well . . . we balance each other out,” he reasoned.

“Well, I honestly do hope it works out,” she said. “I think you’re really good for her. She could use someone like you in her life, someone . . . smart. Kind. Responsible.”

“Ms. DeLuca . . . I really care about her,” he blurted suddenly. “I mean, she’s not just my girlfriend; she’s my friend. And I know she’s got her flaws, but we all do. I mean, I know I do.”

“Well, I haven’t seen any. Unlike that dreadful Guerin boy . . .”

“No, I do have flaws,” he insisted. “A lot of them. But . . .” He hesitated a moment before coming right out and saying it. “I’m in love with your daughter. I’ve been in love with her from the moment I saw her.”

And to that, Amy just smiled.

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

Maria pushed open the door to Max’s bedroom without knocking. She needed a quickie before dinner desperately and hoped he would be up for it, so to speak.

“And I . . .” Max trailed off the moment she walked into the room, and Maria found herself surveying quite an awkward sight: her mother and her boyfriend, obviously talking about her.

“Sorry, Mom, Max is Jewish,” she said. “You can’t convert him.”

Amy shot an alarmed look at Max, and he quickly assured her, “I’m not Jewish.”

“Oh, thank God,” Amy said. “My grandchildren do need to have a relationship with Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, you’re so tolerant,” Maria muttered under her breath. “Can you just, like, clear out of here?”

“Well, why should I have to?” Amy asked in return. “It’s Max’s room.”

“Yeah, but it’s our do-it room,” Maria blurted, “and I know you’re sexually frustrated, but you’re just gonna have to get your kicks elsewhere.”

Amy rose to her feet and said. “A mother always dreams of hearing those words come from her daughter’s mouth.”

“Oh, trust me,” Maria said, “I’m holding back a few choice words.”

Amy shook her head in disappointment and resignedly left the room.

Once she and Max were alone, Maria slammed the door shut. “Why were you talking to her?” she demanded of Max.

“Well, she was talking to me. I couldn’t be rude,” he reasoned.

“Yes, you could’ve been. In fact, rude might be the only way to get through to that witch.”

“Maria, she’s your mom.”

“No, she’s not my mom,” she whined. “She’s . . . a bully.” That seemed an appropriate term. “I don’t want or need that in my life. You don’t understand because she likes you. She doesn’t like me.” It hurt to say it, to know it. Her own mother didn’t like her. Her own mother probably never would.

“I think you two just have some miscommunication,” Max said, remaining neutral.

“Be on my side, Max,” she told him. “Please, just . . . be on my side.”

“I am,” he said softly. “I am on your side, Maria.”

“Funny,” she said. “It doesn’t seem like it.” Unsure whether she was angry at him or just super angry at her mother, she left the room and stomped through the living room towards her bedroom. She was going to shut herself in there for the rest of the night and go to bed. Nothing else.

Michael poked his head out of his room as she stormed down the hallway and asked, “Hey, is your mom out there?”

“Not now, Michael,” she muttered, continuing on her way.

“Why are you pissed at me?” he said, following her down to the end of the hallway. “I didn’t do anything.”

When she opened the door to her bedroom, she was both shocked and appalled to find her mother sitting there in front of her computer, watching something on the screen.

“Shit!” Michael exclaimed dramatically, making a mad dash back for his bedroom, slamming the door.

Maria made her way towards her mother and saw exactly what she was watching. The dance montage Michael had put together for her and given to her as a birthday present. “So you think you just invade my stuff?” she said, ejecting the DVD from the computer.

“I’m trying to get reacquainted,” Amy said, “what with having not seen you for four years.”

“Yeah, I liked it that way,” Maria mumbled, putting the DVD back in the case after checking for scratches. Unharmed. Good.

“So I guess you’re still doing the dance thing,” Amy said, her disapproval coming through loud and clear.

“The dance thing?” Maria echoed. “It happens to be my major, what I’m gonna do for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, that’s a mistake,” Amy said.

“Of course it is.” Everything’s a mistake in your eyes, she thought bitterly. I’m a mistake in your eyes.

“What are you going to do when you’re forty and your body doesn’t work the way it used to?”

“It will,” Maria insisted. “And God, forty, that’s like, years from now.”

Amy sighed heavily and inquired, “Well, who made that for you?”

She didn’t want to tell her, but she knew she’d find out. Her mother found out everything. “Michael,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“Michael,” she said louder. “Michael Guerin.”

“Oh, I’m sure he enjoyed putting that together,” she said. “All that shaking and gyrating . . .”

Maria took offense at that and couldn’t help but lash out again. “For your information, some of those jumps you saw me do on there . . . not easy. And those turns . . . I’d like to see you try to balance on your toes. It takes talent, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, it takes a lot of talent to shake your butt.”

“Mom, you don’t get it,” she said. “Although I don’t expect you to, being that you never went to any of my performances.”

“Because I don’t approve,” Amy said.

“What else is new?”

“Maria, one of these days you’re gonna realize that I’m right,” Amy said confidently. “You’re gonna look back and realize that you should’ve pursued something much more prestigious than this . . . this dance thing.”

This dance thing. There it was again. Maria couldn’t take it anymore. With her dance DVD in hand, she left her room and went to Michael’s. He had the door locked, but all she had to do was knock, and he opened up and let her in.

Much better.

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

Maria and Michael stayed awake all night in his bedroom doing . . . relatively nothing. At 7:00 a.m., they began an intense card game: Go-Fish.

“Got any fours?” Michael asked her.

“Go fish.”

“Dammit,” he cursed, drawing a card from the messy pile scattered in front of them for the umpteenth time. He frowned, seemingly unhappy with what he got. She smiled a little at that. Michael sometimes bragged about what a great poker player he would be. She doubted he could play poker if he couldn’t even play Go-Fish.

He was so weird.

“Got any threes?” she asked him when it was her turn.

Obviously frustrated, he handed over yet another card to her.

“I knew it,” she said proudly, laying down another set. Two more sets and she’d win.

He waited a moment, then, obviously having no clue, asked a question he had asked three times already. “Any kings?”

“Go fuckin’ fish.”

He sighed heavily and picked up another card. “You think I could just count myself as a card?” he said. “I am practically a king.”

“Or a queen,” she said, unable to keep from smiling.

“Oh, that’s . . . pretty good, actually,” he admitted.

“You do spend an awful lot of time on your hair,” she said. “Makes a girl wonder.”

He chuckled. “You’re funny, Maria.”

“So are you,” she said, never taking her eyes off her cards. “Funny lookin’.”

“Good-lookin’,” he said. “Come on, it’s your turn.”

“Mmm . . .” She waited a moment, studying him cryptically, and his face gave it all away. “Give me that damn five.”

“Oh, shit,” he said, reluctantly handing it over.

“I’m so kicking your ass,” she said excitedly.

“You always do.”

She lay down her second to last set. All she had to squeeze out of him now was one six, and she knew he had it. Victory was totally near.

But just as Michael was about to pose the next card question, there was a knock on the door. The two of them shared alarmed looks, and Maria said, “If it’s her, hit her. You have my permission.”

He set his cards down, stupidly laying them face up, and she quickly glanced at them. Oh, yeah. There was the six she needed.

He opened the door just a crack and breathed a sigh of relief. Obviously it was not Amy who was on the other side.

“Morning,” Liz said, squeezing inside.

“Morning,” he said, bending down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek as he shut the door into place again.

God, Maria thought. They’re really starting to act like a couple. Peck kisses. That’s a couple thing.

Don’t be jealous.

“Is my mom out there?” she asked Liz.

“Yeah, she’s asleep on the couch,” Liz replied. “I tip-toed past.”

“You don’t like her either, huh?”

“Well, no, not really,” Liz admitted, lying down on her stomach on Michael’s bed. Michael sat in front of her, cursing when he noticed the way he’d lain his cards.

“What’d she say to you?” Maria asked, ready to confront her mother about it if it was something particularly offensive.

“Oh, you know, just some stuff that kind of rubbed me the wrong way,” Liz said, not going into detail. “It’s no big deal.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Liz said. She draped her arms over Michael’s shoulders and looked down at the cards in his hand. “Oh, you know what? You should ask for a six,” she suggested.

“No!” Maria yelped.

“Got a six?” Michael obediently asked.

Shoulders slumped, she handed over one of the cards she needed to win.

“Alright,” Michael said. “Should’ve had you here all along. You my lucky charm or something?”

“Hmm, maybe,” Liz said, smiling.

“I should take you to Vegas,” he pondered. “You could blow on my dice.”

“Oh, I’ll blow on your dice anytime,” she said.

“Nice.” They leaned in and kissed then, and Maria had to look away.

Don’t be jealous. For God’s sake, DeLuca, don’t be so jealous.

“Sorry,” Liz said to Maria once she pulled away. “Too much?”

“Oh, no, I just . . . remembered I have to . . . pee,” Maria stuttered lamely, laying her cards down and standing up.

“Baby, where you goin’? I’m gonna peek at your cards,” Michael warned her.

“You suck,” she muttered, slinking out of the room. But as bad as losing a card game to Michael was, sitting there while he and his girlfriend macked on each other was even worse.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

nibbles: Yep, right now, Liz is winning. She's turning out a lot more manipulative than people suspected her to be. And Max . . . he's a timid guy who really should stick up for Maria.
Tine: Oh, the last question wasn't rhetoric. I must have misread that. Well--surprise, surprise--I'm going to be tight-lipped. But one couple does indeed break up before the other couple. They don't break up simultaneously. Oh, and to answer your questions with this part . . . Amy has no particular reason to come see Maria now, and she likewise has no particular reason to think that Michael got Maria pregnant years ago. She's just CRAZY like that (bad crazy, you know?) and she just thinks whatever she wants to think, says whatever she wants to say, and does whatever she wants to do. So I suppose she and Maria are alike in that aspect.
grnkrystle: Whoa, if Max irritated YOU, then he must have irritated everyone! lol. He'll try to rectify things in this part. He always does.
SweetnSpicy: Well, if you say you might cry . . . I better hand you the tissues right now, because there are a LOT of parts left before M+M start "going places" in their relationship. It's a very slow build-up. It has to be. They've been friends for eight years. Any change to their relationship is a monumental change.
pookie76:

I think soon she won't be able to handle the emotional highs and lows

You're right about that. In Thursday's part, Maria's emotional turmoil is going to catch up to her big-time.
Antarian Chick: "Green-eyed monster." Everyone in this fic is going to experience the green-eyed monster at some point. Even Michael, a little bit. Oh, and just so you know, my definition of a "little bit longer" is REALLY long. I'm so mean like that.
Alien_Friend: Amy will be sticking around for a few more parts, and you'll see her again MUCH later on in the fic. And you're so right about M+M accepting each other's flaws! Because we all know, they are very flawed.
RiceKrispy: Oh, no, this must be killer on you. First Liz hatred, now Max hatred. Hopefully your Max hatred won't last. He really is a good guy, he's just a little clueless. Obviously he should have stood up for Maria in the last part, but it's just not in his nature to be outspoken and confrontational.
Mag: Well, the Max-Maria sex will never be as descriptive as it was in that dreaded Chapter 29 (the ABOMINATION! lol), but it will happen again.
ForeignLoveMonkey: This is so weird. Dr. Phil is actually mentioned in this part! (I hate him, too. )
crazysnape:

I mean Amy must have been sleepng for a long time, Maria coult have go back to her room.

That's right. She could have. But she didn't. Would you?
spacegirl23: Another new feedbacker! Yes! Welcome to Fanatics. I'm glad you're hooked on the story and that you like Michael and Maria. I like them, too, even though they're messed up.
tequathisy: It seems that you understand both sides of Maria and Amy's relationship. You're right that Amy doesn't know how to express her love for Maria and that Maria doesn't make it easy on her. With the exception of Amy's bible-thumping ways, she and Maria are probably actually a lot alike. Headstrong. Stubborn. And about Max . . . he is in love with Maria, but it's definitely not true love. One of these days, he'll learn that, I promise.









Part 40 (the big 4-0!)








Maria rarely paid attention during her psychology lecture, especially when the subject matter was complicated, but that afternoon, she found herself leaning and listening intently to a concept that wasn’t all that easy to understand.

“In order to understand classical conditioning,” her professor said, “I want you to create an example that’s meaningful to you. So, think of something that . . . think of something that makes you salivate.”

“Ew,” Maria said.

“Think of something,” the professor went on, “that just naturally elicits that reaction. It can be a food, maybe even just a smell. Anything.”

Maria smiled a little when she thought about her salivation-producer. Michael. His face sprang to mind, and she sat there for a moment, thinking about how sexy he had looked last night in his white wife-beater, like Ryan Atwood from The O.C., only taller and hotter.

“So whatever you thought of,” the professor continued, “was the unconditioned stimulus. And, of course, the salivation was the unconditioned response. It was something that just automatically happened; you didn’t have to learn it.”

Oh my god, Maria thought. I’m salivating over Michael.

“Now, think of something different,” the professor instructed, “something that doesn’t naturally cause salivation. That’s going to be your conditioned stimulus.”

Immediately, Max’s face popped into her mind.

“Now, eventually, if you pair your first thought with your second thought long enough, you might be able to salivate to both of them. That would be the conditioned response. That’s the whole classical conditioning procedure. Learning by association. One thing is natural; the other isn't. The goal is to make it natural. Now sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't.”

“Huh,” Maria said. She was beginning to think her example was a little too complicated. Maybe instead of thinking of Michael and Max, she should have thought of food like her professor had suggested. Like cheese. Cheese wasn’t complicated. She salivated over cheese all the time.

“Alright, hopefully everyone’s done salivating as they leave the room,” the professor said, subtly dismissing class.

Some of the students laughed and started to file out of the lecture auditorium.

“Sick, huh?” this girl sitting beside Maria said. “I totally don’t salivate.”

“Oh, yeah, me neither,” Maria said, but when she turned the other way, she whispered, “Oh my god!” to herself, wondering why Michael had that effect on her. If only he were uglier . . .

But no, that would be a damn shame.

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

When Maria got back from class that afternoon, she found her mom sitting on the couch watching Dr. Phil. She purposefully dropped her heavy backpack on her foot and mumbled, “Oops, sorry,” in a very unemotional tone.

“I’m sure you are,” Amy mumbled in reply, holding her toes. “How was class?”

“Oh, yeah, suddenly take an interest.”

“I was just asking.”

“Well, it was fine,” she replied. “Psychology was . . . particularly insightful.”

“What’d you learn about?”

Maria grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator just to piss her mom off. “Oh, you know. Salivation. Stimulation.”

Amy’s eyes bugged out. “My God, what kind of school am I sending you to?”

“Chill out, Paranoia,” Maria said, unscrewing the top of the bottle. “It was psychological stimulation.”

Amy sank into silence for a moment and watched in obvious disapproval as Maria took a drink of beer. “Could you please not do that in front of me?” she said.

Maria just shrugged. “I’m an adult.”

“Oh, you are not,” Amy assured her.

“And you’re not a mother. Ha, ha.” Maria raised her bottle as if she were toasting someone and took another swig.

“You disappoint me,” Amy said quietly.

“No shit.” Maria set her bottle down and wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. “So when are you leaving?”

“Not yet,” Amy said. “You see, I think what you need is a little spiritual stimulation.”

Maria knew at once what her mother was insinuating and absolutely detested the idea. “Uh-uh. Forget it.”

“I will not forget it,” Amy said stubbornly. “There’s a little church I passed on the way here. They have Wednesday night services. I was hoping it’d be Lutheran, but it’s Catholic. I think that’ll do.”

“No way, I’m not going,” Maria protested.

“Oh, yes you are,” Amy said confidently. “I have leverage, remember?” She smirked.

Maria’s resistance began to diminish, and she knew her mother was once again going to get her way. “You wouldn’t really do that, would you? Out me and the professor sex stuff if it came down to it? I’d get kicked out of college.”

Amy shrugged. “Oh, well. It’s not like you’re doing anything worthwhile here anyway. Dance major.” She huffed.

Maria just stared at her, amazed by how casually she could dismiss her life’s passion. “I hate you,” she said, just so it was out in the air.

For a moment, Amy said nothing. Then, suddenly, she became animated again and said, “Oh, Michael?”

Maria spun around and saw that Michael had been trying to slink out into the kitchen unnoticed. Idiot.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed, immediately turning and heading back.

“Michael.”

He reluctantly stopped just short of the hallway and turned around slowly, schooling his features to remain calm. “Ms. DeLuca.”

“Michael, I trust you’ll be joining us tonight,” she said.

“Uh, no, probably not,” he replied hastily.

“Oh, I think you will,” Amy said, smiling an oh-so-fake smile. “Maria and I are going to church. I think it could benefit you greatly.”

“Uh, church? No,” he said. “I don’t do that.”

“Well, you should.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Well, you should.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Well, you--”

“Okay, enough,” Maria interjected, approaching Michael. “You,” she said, pointing a finger at him. ”Shut up and drag your ass to church.”

“What? Why?” he whined.

“Because you can’t leave me alone with her! I won’t come home in one piece!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “So you tag along tonight or I’ll . . . I’ll do something drastic.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Like . . .” She crossed her arms over her chest, searching for a threat. “I’ll destroy your video camera, is what I’ll do,” she promised.

“You wouldn’t,” he said. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Oh, I have the—no, I don’t have—I’d do it!” she exclaimed in frustration. “And I’d . . . . I’d light your bed on fire.”

“Pyro,” he said. “I’m still not going.”

“I’ll never let you see me naked again!”

That got him. “Whoa, Maria, don’t get crazy on me.”

“I’m serious, Michael!”

He tossed his head back and sighed. “Fucking Christ. Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.” She turned back around to face her mother and asked her a question that she honestly didn’t know the answer to. “So what does one wear when entering the house of the lord?”

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

Michael found himself sitting in an uncomfortable church pew an hour later, wishing he were somewhere else. Anywhere else. This was his first time ever in church, and as far as he could tell, it was the most boring thing on the planet earth.

Amy sat strategically between him and Maria, probably to keep them from causing any mayhem. He wished he could lean over and ask his friend what she thought about what the priest was saying, because to him, it was totally bogus.

“Sex is a sin,” the priest declared as if it were a matter of fact. “Those who have sex are sinners. If you are having sex, you are sinning.”

Michael leaned backward, arching his neck and glancing over at Maria with an alarmed look on his face.

‘I know,’ she mouthed in return.

“Dump me in that baptism thing,” Michael muttered. “Apparently I need to be cleansed.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Maria mumbled in agreement.

“Shh,” Amy hissed, swatting at them both.

Michael shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though the priest’s gaze had settled on him. This was really just a ridiculous waste of time. He had cancelled his date night with Liz for this. Although, he wasn’t too distraught about that. Dates were a waste of time, too. Fucking . . . now that was worthwhile. That was a way to spend an evening. But he’d gone and lost that bet . . .

“Make no mistake about it,” the priest went on, sounding more like a dictator than a spiritual leader, “the lord our God frowns upon those of us who sin, who sin consciously and willingly, and fail to see the error of our ways.”

“Holy crap,” Michael swore a little louder than he had intended to. Members of the congregation turned to look at him, and Amy told him to be quiet.

“Comments from the back?” the priest asked. “No? Good, then I’ll continue. As I was saying, those of us who--”

“Yeah, I got a comment,” Michael blurted suddenly. Slapping his hands on his legs, he stood up and prepared to do one of the things he did best: argue. “Where the hell do you get off tellin’ people this crock of bullshit?”

“Michael!” Amy hissed.

“No, let me finish,” he said. He’d already started the ball rolling. Couldn’t quit now. “I’ve heard some pretty dumb-ass things in my life, but this really takes the cake.”

“You’re welcome to meet with me after the service,” the priest invited.

“No, the service sucks,” he decided. “I mean, I’m not a church expert or anything, but I came here tonight thinking I’d hear stuff about, like, the cross or whatever. Bread and wine and stuff. And instead I’m listening to some old guy sayin’ sex is a sin? What the fuck?”

The priest schooled his features to remain calm. “Again, you’re welcome to meet with me--”

“Nah, screw that. I’ll say everything I wanna say right here,” Michael decided. He glanced down at Maria and saw her smiling up at him. “This is insane,” he said, “and anyone who believes it’s insane. Obviously sex isn’t a sin. It’s fuckin’ natural. And it’s fuckin’ fun. And hell, none of us would even be here if it weren’t for good old sex.”

“But how do you explain the fact that Jesus was immaculately conceived?” the priest countered.

“Alright, I don’t know what that means,” Michael admitted, “but how do you explain the fact that I’ve got a dick and Maria here doesn’t?” He gestured to her, causing her to laugh a little. “We’re supposed to do something about it. I mean, not me and Maria. We’re not supposed to . . . The point is, we’re built this way for a reason, and anyone who doesn’t get that should just shove it up their ass.”

Everyone gasped in horror, including the priest. Amy’s gasp was the loudest of all, and the outrage was apparent on her face. He was well aware of the fact that he’d just given her yet another reason to hate him, but he didn’t really care at that point. She was the one who had insisted on dragging him to church in the first place.

“For once I agree with you!” Maria exclaimed, getting to her feet as well. “Yeah!”

“Yeah!” They high-fived each other, and Amy lowered her face into her hands, shaking her head and hiding.

Michael took one more look around at everyone, at the poor deluded people who liked to think there was no grey area in life, and said, “Come on, let’s get outta here, Maria.” He slid out of the pew and walked out the way he had come in, with Maria by his side. At last minute, she whirled around to face the priest and yelled, “Yeah!” once more before stomping out of the worship center with him.

“Man, I just kicked ass!” Michael exclaimed, once they were outside, pausing a moment to jump around like Rocky Balboa at the top of the stairs, arms above his head, all energy.

“Wait a minute,” Maria said suddenly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “We should do something bad.”

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

How could I raise such an ill-behaved daughter? Amy wondered as she tried to concentrate on the rest of the church service. She could still hear a few people whispering about Michael’s outburst and ‘the horrible young lady who’d gone along with it.’ Oh, that boy corrupted her . . .

She’d tried. She really had tried to guide Maria in the right direction, to keep her away from temptations, from evils. But there was only so much a mother could do. In the end, Maria was just as headstrong as a girl could be and would probably never change her ways.

But that was unacceptable.

Amy was just starting to get back into the swing of the sermon when she heard a loud, screeching sound, followed by some muffled scratchy sounds. It sounded like a microphone with a lot of feedback.

She and the rest of the congregation looked around in confusion, and the priest slowly stopped talking and looked around with them. A moment later, sounds could be heard.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, that’s the spot.”

That’s my daughter! Amy thought in a panic. That’s my daughter’s voice!

“Oh, oh, right there,” Maria continued to moan. It didn’t take Amy long to figure out that she and Michael had probably found the sound room and decided to play a practical joke.

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

Michael could barely keep from laughing. More than anything, he wanted to see the looks on all those holier than now faces when they heard him and Maria pretending to have sex. “You like that, baby?” he asked before placing the microphone close to Maria’s face again.

“Oh, yes,” came her exaggerated moan of a response. “It’s so . . . sinful.”

He did laugh at that. Couldn’t help it. “Yeah, it’s great,” he agreed. “Let’s sin all night long.”

“Let’s,” she echoed. She gestured for him to turn the volume up on the soundboard, and he did so. “Oh!” she cried then. “Oh, yes!”

“Yeah.” He turned the volume up even louder, motioning for her to keep going. She was so hot when she made sex sounds, even though they were fake.

“Yes!” she cried again. “There! Right there! Just do me, baby!”

“I’m doin’ you,” he said, partially wishing he really was.

“Harder!” she exclaimed. “Faster!”

“Oh, yeah, baby!” He thumped hit his hand against the microphone a few times in rapid succession, just for added acoustical effect.

“Just . . . make me a sinner!” she cried, tossing her head backward. “Make me a sinner, Michael! Please!”

“I am, I am,” he said. “You gonna cum, baby? Are you gonna cum?”

“I’m gonna,” she said. “I’m gonna make a big sin.”

“Big sin,” he agreed, hoping that the people downstairs were going out of their minds. They deserved to for buying into such obvious bullshit.

“Just . . . a little . . . bit . . . more!”

He covered the microphone for a moment and told her, “God, you really sound like you’re doin’ it.”

“I know. I’m so talented.” She smiled. “Girls learn to do this when a guy doesn’t get them off.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” He grinned and shoved the microphone back in her face.

“Ah!” she screamed. “I’m sinning. Right . . . now!”

Just as she pretended to have an orgasm, the door to the sound room flew open, and there stood one very angry old priest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “This is a place of worship!” He grabbed Maria by the arm, yanking her away from where she had been sitting on the sound machine, and Michael reacted on instinct.

“Hey, get off her!” He curled his hand into a fist, swung, and ended up knocking the priest backwards. Amy and a few of the other church-goers came to the door and gasped in shock as he did so, covering their mouths with their hands.

Maria glanced down at the priest, who was grumbling unholy swear words as he got up, and then she glanced up at Michael, her eyes twinkling with delight. “That was fun.”

He smiled in agreement.

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

“You hit a priest!”

“Yeah, so?” Michael said with a shrug.

“You hit a priest!” Amy exclaimed again with even more gusto this time.

“What’s the big deal? He’s alright.”

“But that’s just not something normal people do!”

“I do,” Michael said.

“Well then, obviously you’re not normal!”

Maria had to laugh at Michael’s reaction to that. He scrunched up his face in confusion and said, “I’m not normal? Taken a look in the mirror lately?”

“You hit a priest!” Amy yelled for the thousandth time.

“Well, excuse me for protecting your daughter!” Michael roared right back. “He was obviously just an old geezer tryin’ to cop a feel.”

Maria nodded her head in agreement, keeping her facial expression serious for about a second before bursting into giggles. “Mom, just face it,” she said. “We have a sense of humor and you don’t.” She shrugged. “Not even Jesus can fix that.”

“Do not insult my faith,” Amy snapped.

“Oh my god, I’m not. I’m just joking. Chillax.”

“Chillax?” Michael echoed, smiling at her. “That’s cute.”

She blushed, hoping he didn’t notice. That word coming out of anyone else’s mouth would mean nothing to her, but he made it a compliment, one she was more than willing to receive.

“I just can’t believe you embarrassed me so horribly!” Amy went on. “And yourselves!”

“No, I feel very good about myself,” Maria said. “What about you, Michael? Do you feel good about yourself?”

“I always do,” he said, smirking. “It’s a result of having such a huge package.”

“Oh, this dialogue!” Amy cried hysterically. “I can barely tolerate it!”

“Then leave,” Maria suggested.

“No.”

“Boo.”

“No!”

“Boo,” Michael joined in, giving her the thumbs-down sign.

“You two are so childish.”

“Try living with ‘em,” Kyle piped up from where he sat in the kitchen, working on his computer. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

“It’s okay. We love you, Kyle,” Maria assured him.

“Maria wants you, Kyle,” Michael added jokingly.

No, I want you, Michael.

“She really wants you.”

“Oh my god, that was so ninth grade,” she said.

“Can you two focus?” Amy barked, interrupting the fun once again. “Not only were you an embarrassment to yourselves and to me, but you also damaged property!”

“Oh, please,” Maria scoffed. “For the last time, we didn’t break into the room. The lock looked like that when we got there.” But that was a lie. That lock had come unlocked with the simple swipe of a credit card. The church had no one to blame but itself.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Amy said. “You can expect a bill from them soon enough. I assume poor Kyle will have to pay it.”

“Uh, no, they’ll just take off their clothes, smile for the camera. It’s all good,” Kyle said.

Amy gave Maria a stern look and said, “What does he mean by that?”

“Maria and I got jobs,” Michael said. “Well, actually, she got a job because of me, but . . .”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s easy money,” he went on to say.

“Oh, great,” Amy said to Maria. “So that means you’re a stripper.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Michael said, stepping between Maria and Amy before Maria had the chance to freak out on her. “That’s only cool when I say it.”

“At least I have a job, Mom,” Maria said, stepping around Michael. “Unlike you.” The only reason Amy had any money to her name was because she and her semi-wealthy ex-husband hadn’t signed a prenup.

“My job is spreading the word of God,” Amy said, sounding offended. “Don’t you dare discount that!”

“I feel a game of Go-Fish comin’ on,” Michael said loudly, rubbing his hands together. “How about you, Maria?”

“I do,” she concurred, and the two of them scampered off to his bedroom, away from one very unpleasant woman.

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

Max stepped up to the door to Michael’s room that night, knowing he would find Maria in there. Michael and Maria didn’t realize it, but they spent a lot of time together.

Luckily they were just friends. That was all.

Max knocked on the door, and the response he got was an angry one from Maria. “Mom, I swear to God, get a life!”

“Yeah, go fish!” Michael added.

“Uh, actually, it’s just me,” he said.

“Max!” Moments later, the door flung open, and he came face to face with Maria. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you were she who shall remain nameless.”

“So I gathered,” he said, surveying the card game they were playing. “Having fun?”

“Please, an evening with Michael? A root canal’s more fun.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Michael said in a sing-song voice.

“See, he’s so annoying,” Maria said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah. Well, I was . . . I was wondering if we could talk,” Max stuttered.

“Oh. Sure.” She glanced back at Michael and said, “Don’t cheat.”

“You know I will,” was his response.

Again, she rolled her eyes, but this time she stepped out of the room and shut the door. He started to head for his bedroom when she grabbed his arm and said, “Uh-uh. My mom’s probably hiding in the closet hoping to hear every juicy detail.” She pulled him into the bathroom instead and shut the door.

“Oh,” Max said, feeling like an idiot as, all of a sudden, shower fantasies of Maria began to race through his mind. He didn’t want to be that kind of boyfriend. He wanted to be the perfect boyfriend, the kind who pushed aside sex thoughts long enough to have an actual conversation.

“You okay?” Maria asked.

“Yeah, uh . . . I just . . . I wanted to apologize,” he said.

“For what?”

“Well, in case I upset you yesterday by talking to your mom. It’s not that I’m taking her side over yours. You know I’ll take your side every time. I just . . . I do want her to like me, and you know how I’m the type of person who likes to avoid confrontations. But if you want me to steer clear of her, I will.”

“Oh, Max,” she said. “You know you sound very whipped?”

“I know,” he said, smiling. “But as long as you’re the one doing the whipping . . .” He trailed off when he realized how wrong that sounded. “No, wait, I didn’t mean . . .”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to apologize for everything. As far as boyfriends go, I’d say you’re one of the good ones.”

“Well, I try.”

“Well, you succeed.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She was an amazing kisser. He had spent years of his life imagining what a single kiss from her would feel like, but he had never in his wildest dreams thought that it could feel so surreal.

He was in love. He was really in love. He looked forward to the day when he had the courage to tell her that.

She hugged him then, pressing her head to his shoulder, and spoke quietly. “You’re a good boyfriend, Max.”

“You’re a good girlfriend,” he returned.

He thought he heard her whisper, “No, I’m not,” to herself, but he couldn’t be sure. So he didn’t ask her about it.








TBC . . .

-April

(Fun fact: I actually did once sit through an entire church sermon like the one Michael and Maria listened to in this part. It was so ludacris.)

(And just so you guys know, the next part is going to be a bit of a doozy.)