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

[sarammlover]

Well good for Doug! Must have been hard but then freeing to finally realize what was going on with himself. Go get that chester!

I am tickled that Michael got Kyle OUT of the house and onto a football field. YAY!!

This was the first hint of michael and maria actually BEING friends and I was ok with it. I don't think this dinner thing is a good idea...not quite yet...but what do I know? HA! Read you this weekend!!

[April]

Carolyn:

]Michael really did need help with his music appreciation.

He needed some serious help. And he got some.

Now, wonder how Dylan will do with his football coach?

Oh, Dylan will love every second of having "Micho" as his football coach. Naturally.


Sara:

I am tickled that Michael got Kyle OUT of the house and onto a football field. YAY!!

It's a big step for him.

This was the first hint of michael and maria actually BEING friends and I was ok with it. I don't think this dinner thing is a good idea...not quite yet...but what do I know?

This whole friends thing . . . is definitely precarious. But it did seem to go pretty well in the last part. But yeah, dinner could still be pushing things too far too quickly. We'll see.

HA! Read you this weekend!!

Cute.


Thanks for reading and leaving feedback!








Part 24








That night, Maria lay in bed, mind racing, phone in hand. She was supposed to call Sarah and confirm whether or not she and Max would be able to do this dinner tomorrow night, but even though she and Max had already talked it through, she was reluctant.

“I just don’t want you to feel obligated,” she said, worried that he had just agreed to it because he thought he had to.

Beside her, Max lay on his side, facing away. “I don’t,” he said. He’d been very tired tonight, because he’d worked extra hours today. She knew she was probably bothering him by yapping rather than just letting him go to sleep.

“It’s not, like, imperative to me to be all chummy with Michael and Sarah,” she went on, wanting to be very clear that not one part of this had been her idea.

“I know,” he said.

“If you’d rather just keep your distance . . .”

Groaning, he rolled over completely so that he was on his other side now. He extended one arm across her stomach and looked right at her. “Maria.”

“What?”

“This isn’t all that weird for me,” he assured her. “I’m used to having to confront the past. I welcome it at this point.”

“Yeah, but . . .” This was different. This wasn’t something that rehab could assist him with. This was his history with Michael and her history with Michael, all wrapped up into one.

“I think this Sarah girl’s got it figured out,” he said. “We’re all here in this town; our lives are bound to overlap just like they already are. We might as well get used to each other.”

“But I just don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“Maria, I’ve been straight-up with Michael,” he said. “I told him I changed and I have no hard feelings towards him. So the ball’s pretty much in his court. If he wants, we can put this tension and hostility behind us and be perfectly civil.”

She whimpered quietly, mildly distressed by that. Because it just wouldn’t happen. Michael had changed a lot in two years, obviously. But even though he was now a star student and an Outstanding Employee and a counselor in-the-making, he still harbored the same intensely negative feelings towards Max that he always had. It was like a fire. No matter how much water you poured on it, no matter how many friendly conversations or dinners you attempted to have, it would never go out. She knew that, but Sarah and Max didn’t seem to.

“Just call Sarah,” he suggested, rolling back onto his other side now. “Tell her we’ll be there.”

Sighing, relenting herself to a Saturday evening she’d never seen coming, she brought up the contact list on her phone to find Sarah Nguyen’s number and confirm their dinner plans.

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

Making out was great, but sex was a whole lot better; and that was the territory Michael hoped to push it into as he and Sarah lay naked under their covers, kissing, groping. They’d already fooled around together in the shower, but he was more than ready for round two, this time in the bed.

Unfortunately, while he was right in the middle of plunging his tongue into her mouth, her cell phone rang. He slowly, reluctantly stopped what he was doing and gave her enough room to move so she could reach over onto the nightstand and grab her phone.

“It’s not your parents again, is it?” he groaned. That would really kill the mood.

“No, it’s Maria.”

But then again, that killed it, too. “What?” he spat, flopping down flat on his back.

“Hello,” she answered politely. There was a bit of a pause then, until she exclaimed, “Really? That’s great! I’m so glad.”

Michael rubbed his forehead, flabbergasted. What the hell was this? What other guy had to deal with his current girlfriend and ex-girlfriend becoming friends with each other? It was so fucked up.

“Okay, so we live on campus in the Vidorra suites,” Sarah went on to say. “Do you know where that is?”

Michael cast a horrified glance at her out of the corner of his eye. What the fuck? Maria was coming over here now? Hopefully not right now, because . . . he was just in no state for that.

“And we live on the third floor in number 315,” Sarah added. “Do you wanna do . . . I don’t know, 7:30-ish?”

Oh my god, Michael thought in astonishment. She’s really inviting her over here. His crazy girl was really, truly crazy after all.

“Alright, sounds like a plan,” Sarah chirped. “See you tomorrow. Bye.” She ended the call and put her phone back on the nightstand. When she looked back at Michael, she must have known she had some explaining to do, because right away, she said, “Okay, don’t freak out.”

“What’re you doing?” he demanded. “She’s comin’ over here?”

“Yes, tomorrow night,” Sarah confirmed. “For dinner.”

He grunted incredulously. “Are—are you serious?”

“Yes.” Gulping, she added, “So is Max.”

“What?” he shrieked, digging his hands into his hair. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just trying to be friendly and open-minded,” she said. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” he said. “I just . . . I can’t get on the same wavelength as you about this.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, moving in closer, curling up against his side. “I should’ve asked you first.”

It really didn’t matter; he would have given in and agreed to it just because it was what she wanted. But maybe he wouldn’t have been so caught off guard like this.

“Sorry,” she said again, and suddenly, he felt her hand slip beneath the covers and start to . . . sort of massage a very specific part of him, stroking his length.

“What’re you doing?” he asked her.

“This is the only thing I can do to make sure you’re not mad at me,” she whimpered.

Adorable, he thought, but it wasn’t true. He didn’t require sexual favors to keep from fighting with her about this. As much as he was already dreading this dinner tomorrow night, it wasn’t exactly the end of the world; and he knew her heart had been in a good place when she’d initiated it.

“Come here,” he said, rolling onto his side again so he could sweep her into his arms and resume kissing her the way she deserved.

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

Isabel awoke, feeling instantly as if she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. When she tried to stir, she felt a soreness between her legs, and when she looked down under the covers, she knew why. There were bruises on the inside of her thighs, a clear indicator of an especially rough pounding.

“Good morning,” Jesse said. He was sitting over at his computer with only a sheet wrapped around his waist. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and was already hard at work, editing some new film.

“Hey,” she said, struggling to sit up. Her head was throbbing, and she felt hungover.

“Do you remember anything about last night?” he asked.

“No.” She rubbed her head, hoping some pain relievers would dull this ache. “Was I drunk?”

“Oh, yeah,” he answered emphatically. “We all were.”

Dragging her fingers through her hair, she asked, “What’d we do?”

“Fucked a lot,” he replied. “Courtney got sick, though, so eventually it was just me and Eric and you.”

Well, that explained why she felt so sore then. They’d probably double penetrated her. It wasn’t a big deal, because they’d done it before, but still . . . it hurt. “I should study today,” she mumbled, knowing Jesse would be glued to that computer screen. When Eric woke up, he would be, too. Once they had a new movie in the works, it was all they could think about.

“Just take it easy,” Jesse urged. “Get some rest.”

“No, I need to study,” she insisted. “I’m painfully average in all my classes.”

“Oh, Isabel . . .” He smiled at her. “You couldn’t be average if you tried.”

That was nice to hear, but it wasn’t true. She could certainly be average. She had been before.

****

“Miss Evans . . .”

Isabel continued to breathe calmly, evenly, determined not to show any outward signs of nervousness. This was the third time she’d met with the disciplinary committee now about the ‘Professor Conahey incident.’ That was what they kept calling it.

The chair of the disciplinary committee cleared his throat and said, “Miss Evans, by all accounts, you’ve been an average student during your short time here at Princeton. Average grades, average class attendance. Yet your grade in Professor Conahey’s class is remarkably high. Do you care to explain that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess he thought that if he gave me better grades in class, I’d be more likely to keep quiet about what he was doing to me.”

The chairman stared at her skeptically, as did the rest of the members of the committee. No one seemed to be buying her story anymore.

“This isn’t some academic conspiracy,” she insisted. “Scott was the aggressor here, not me.”

“Scott,” the chair echoed. “You’re on a first-name basis.”

Well, I had to have something to scream out when I was cumming, she thought. “He told me to call him that,” she lied easily. “He told me to do all sorts of things.”

“And why didn’t you report it?” one of only two females on the committee questioned. “You said you knew what was going on was wrong. Why not tell someone?”

“Because I—I was scared,” she stammered.

“Did he threaten you?”

“No, but . . .”

“Then why were you scared?”

She sighed shakily, well aware that she was showing outward signs of nervousness now. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be going. It was bad enough that rumors about her were already running rampant around campus, rumors that were partially if not completely true. She didn’t need this disciplinary committee honing in on her any further. “Look, I’m the victim here,” she kept arguing. “I don’t know what Professor Conahey is telling you, but--”

“He told us you seduced him,” the female member broke in.

“I didn’t!”

“His testimony is very convincing, Miss Evans. We also have witnesses who substantiate the claim that you were an active and willing participant in this affair. Co-workers, students in the class who claim to have seen you flirting with him.”

She huffed, pretending to be outraged when, in reality, she was terrified. “He’s older than me and in a position of power at this university. I didn’t know how to react; I just played along so he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“We have video footage of the two of you in his vehicle in the parking garage,” the chairman informed her. “You didn’t look hurt or scared or panicked or any of these things you claim to have been.”

“This is ridiculous,” she fought back. “He’s the one who should be punished here, not me.”

“Unfortunately, Miss Evans, the evidence we’ve accumulated is insurmountable,” the chairman said. “Professor Conahey will be charged and indicted by our own academic disciplinary committee, and he will be removed from his teaching position here in perpetuity. But we must also hand down punishment to a student who clearly found it more advantageous to initiate an inappropriate sexual relationship with her professor than to study and progress according to the same standards as our other students.”

“So what’re you gonna do?” she challenged. “Expel me?”

“Miss Evans, you leave me no choice.” The chairman cleared his throat and announced, “Isabel Evans is hereby expelled from the University of Princeton for the remainder of the academic year, with probationary and academic restrictions placed on any potential enrollment next fall.”

“No, you can’t do this!” she cried. “This isn’t fair. This is my dream school.”

“Then perhaps,” the chairman advised snidely, “you should have taken your time here more seriously.”

She felt the tears start to roll down her cheeks, and she was actually embarrassed to be crying in front of them. Because not one of them felt the least bit sorry for her.

****

Isabel dazedly watched miniature versions of herself, Jesse, and Eric fucking in a mass on a little video window on Jesse’s computer screen. Eric was taking the non-traditional entrance this time, which didn’t exactly thrill her, because she preferred for that to be Jesse. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

This was her life.

Groaning, head still throbbing, she fell back down on the bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

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

The apartments Michael and Sarah lived in were split up into two buildings: the north complex, and the south complex. The north one was the main one, and outside of it was a big stone sign that said Vidorra in fancy lettering, and beneath that it read, The Good Life. It definitely looked like the good life on the outside. It was a nice place and looked to be one of the newer housing buildings on campus.

Maria took her plate of chocolate chip cookies off the dashboard of the car and shut the passenger’s side door with her hip. “Do you think she’ll be able to tell these are store-bought?” she asked Max.

“Maybe,” he said, pressing the lock button twice on his key fob to lock all doors of the vehicle. “Does it really matter?”

“I guess not,” she said, pulling the plastic wrap covering them up tighter around the sides of the plate. “Apparently she’s an amazing cook.”

“Well, then, tonight we’ll have an amazing meal,” he proclaimed, giving her side a quick squeeze as they headed inside.

Maria’s heart was pounding by the time they got to apartment 315 and knocked on the door. It suddenly dawned on her that she was about to walk into Michael’s whole world. This would be different than seeing him in class or at Dylan’s school. This was where he lived.

Sarah was the one to open the door. She had an oven mitt on one hand and an apron tied around her neck and waist. “Hi!” she exclaimed, a big smile on her face. Immediately, she tried to give Maria a hug, but the cookie plate was in between them.

“Oh, sorry,” Maria said, holding it off to the side.

“Hi,” Sarah said again, getting the hug in this time. “Thanks for coming, guys. Come on in.” She stepped aside and held the door open, and Maria slipped inside, Max following her.

It was . . . nice. Small, but cozy. It was pretty much a studio apartment, with the only wall being the dividing one between the kitchen and the living room. There was a window in it, though, that allowed Maria to see back to the bed, which was perfectly made and had pillows perfectly arranged on it.

“Wow,” Maria said, looking around, surveying the space. Everything was clean; everything was in its right place. Maybe they’d just cleaned up since they had company coming over, but more likely than not, it always looked like this. In addition to being a great cook, Sarah was probably just a great housewife-type in general.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sarah said. “Sorry, it’s not exactly a huge space.”

“No, it’s nice,” Maria told her. “Oh, uh . . . these are for you.” She handed over the cookies.

“Aw, thanks,” Sarah said. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“Oh, it’s the least I could do.”

“Well, thank you,” Sarah reiterated, peeling back the plastic wrap to get a whiff. “Mmm, they smell good,” she remarked. “Did you make these?”

Oh, if only. She had some talents, but cooking wasn’t one of them. “Yes,” she lied. “Yes, I did.”

Max gave her a playful nudge, but Sarah didn’t see it, as she was already putting the cookies on the counter. “Well, those will be perfect for dessert,” she said.

Maria glanced at Max questioningly and pointed down to their shoes. Were they supposed to take them off? Was this that kind of place? Shrugging, he slipped his off, so she did the same.

“So where’s Michael?” Max asked.

“Oh, he’s outside grilling,” Sarah explained. “There’s this grill between the north and south buildings, so he’s got a couple steaks on there right now.”

“Oh, great, that’s my favorite food,” Max said.

“Is it? Good. Michael really likes it, too.”

“Huh. Something we have in common then.”

Maria smiled, happy to hear him having a positive attitude. He would need it in face of Michael’s inevitable negative one.

“So what are you making?” Max asked as he sauntered further into the kitchen. “It smells delicious.”

“Oh, these are just some roasted vegetables,” she said, giving him a peek inside a huge stovetop pot. “Sweet potatoes, green beans, peppers, tomatoes.”

“Smells great,” Max said again.

It did smell good. Maria wandered into the living room, trying to peek at whatever little animal was curled up on the couch.

“We are gonna have a full-on steak dinner,” Sarah proclaimed. “Now Michael really likes this sauce I make—it’s called weeping tiger dressing. But it’s Asian-inspired and really has a kick to it, so we’ve got plenty of other sauces to choose from.”

“I’m not picky,” Max said.

How cute, Maria thought when she got closer to the animal on the couch. It was a little dog. He looked very nervous to have people in his house who he didn’t know.

“And we weren’t sure how you guys take your steak, so Michael’s making just shooting for medium-well. Is that alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” Max said. “That alright with you, Maria?”

She looked up from the dog and said. “Oh, uh, yeah.” She wasn’t picky, either.

“Is Shango over there?” Sarah said.

Immediately, the dog’s ears pricked up, and he jumped down off the couch, scampering into the kitchen towards Sarah. He was a little Corgi. Totally not a tough guy kind of dog.

“What’s his name?” Maria asked.

“Shango,” Sarah repeated. “Michael named him. Something about Shanghai and thinking it was in South Korea.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s where my family’s from.”

“Which one, Shanghai or South Korea?” Max asked.

“South Korea.”

No wonder she’s so pretty, Maria thought. She’s exotic.

“Shango, go say hi to Maria,” she urged as he pawed at her legs. “Go say hi. He’s a little shy.”

“Shango, come here,” Maria said, bending down, giving her legs a few pats to coax him over. Sarah gave him a little nudge with her foot, and eventually, he slinked on over to her. She reached out slowly, and he backed away a few steps at first, but eventually, he came in closer, sniffed her hand a bit, and let her pet him.

“Is he a puppy?” Max asked.

“Yeah, we just got him back in September,” Sarah said. “We’re not technically supposed to have dogs here, but Michael was able to pull a few strings. He loves this dog.”

“Can I pick him up?” Maria asked. She didn’t want to spook the little guy.

“Sure,” Sarah replied. “He’s very friendly.”

Sort of like you, she thought, lifting Shango into her arms. He started licking her cheek right away. He was a warm, adorable, cuddly little thing.

Sarah and Max started talking about food once again, and Maria continued petting Shango and looking around, getting a feel for where Michael lived. It was so different from that bedroom they’d spent countless hours in together. So much more . . . adult. That was probably mostly due to Sarah’s influence, but still . . .

On the end table next to the couch was a picture of Michael and Sarah, looked like it was taken during some vacation at a beach. He was standing behind her with his arms around her waist, both of them smiling at the camera.

This didn’t even just seem like the good life. It was a step beyond that.

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

I’m the man, Michael thought, using tongs to flip over each piece of steak on the grill. Sarah might have been preparing everything else, but when it came to grilling, he was the master. He knew exactly when to take them off the heat, and he knew exactly how to maneuver them so that the juices stayed in.

“Steak dinner, huh?” he heard his boss Brody remark as he came out of the north building.

“Yep.” Michael closed the lid, estimating that he had about eight minutes longer before they were done.

“What’s the occasion?” Brody asked.

“Sarah and I are having ‘friends’ over.” He happily used air quotes for that, because Max sure as hell wasn’t a friend, and Maria . . . well, she was Maria.

“They must be her friends,” Brody concluded.

Michael laughed, wishing it were that simple. “One of them is my ex-girlfriend,” he explained.

“What?” Brody’s eyes bulged. “Why the hell is your ex-girlfriend over for dinner?”

“I don’t know!” Finally, someone else who was as befuddled by this as he was. “And it gets better. Get this: The other ‘friend’ who’s comin’ over tonight . . . is her ex-boyfriend.”

“Sarah’s ex-boyfriend?”

“No, my ex-girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend. Well . . .” He made a face. “Technically he’s her boyfriend again. And the father of her son. She has a son. I forgot to mention that.”

“Your son?” Brody asked.

“No. I mean, he was at one time. Not biologically or anything, but . . .”

“Okay, I’m confused,” Brody admitted. “I lost track.”

“Yeah, the whole thing’s pretty convoluted,” he acknowledged. “Suffice to say, these steaks are gonna be the only good part of tonight’s dinner.”

Brody chuckled and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “Good luck then.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He opened the lid of the grill to take another peek and survey his works of art. Oh, yeah. Five or six more minutes, and then they were done.

When he was satisfied, Michael took each steak off the grill, noticing that one was a little too well-done. Oh, well. That could be Max’s.

Their apartment had already been invaded by the time he got back up there. It felt so fucking weird to walk in there and see Max and Maria, but there they were, just sitting on his couch, playing with his—playing with his dog? Oh, not cool.

“Shango,” he said, and immediately, Shango jumped off their laps and ran towards him.

“Mmm, those smell great,” Sarah said, turning off the stove. “Perfect timing. I’m ready with everything, too.”

Michael set the steaks down on the table, noticing that she’d made that weeping tiger sauce. His favorite. “Thanks, baby,” he said, giving her a quick—but noticeable—kiss on the cheek.

The conversation at the dinner table started out slow, but it was simple enough. Sarah did most of the talking, thankfully. She asked Maria how she was enjoying being a student at the university, and about what she was studying. Maria replied that she was studying music but wasn’t quite sure what career she wanted to pursue with it. Songwriting was an option, but so was teaching.

“And what about you, Max?” Sarah asked. “Are you taking any classes?”

“No, I work full-time,” he answered.

“Doing what?”

“Construction.”

“Really?” Michael shot Maria a hard glance. And here she used to be so concerned that that was the kind of job he’d end up doing.

“He also paints houses,” she said. “He’s very busy and hardworking. And good at his job.”

Max shrugged modestly—since when the hell was Max Evans modest? “I try.”

“So what happened to bein’ a lawyer?” Michael asked challengingly. “I thought that was the plan.”

Sarah gave him a little kick under the table, and he knew he couldn’t push this too far.

“Well, I set that aside to focus on other things,” Max responded evenly.

“Like rehab?”

Sarah kicked him harder.

“Well . . . yes, at first,” Max admitted calmly. “But then Maria and I got back together, and I wanted to be able to provide for my family.” He reached over and touched her shoulder, and she smiled at him.

“And he has,” she said proudly.

Oh, I think I’m gonna puke, Michael thought, barely able to swallow the bite of steak that was in his mouth.

“So what made you decide you wanted to be a counselor?” Max asked him, turning, the tables, but not in a hostile way. “That’s a pretty courageous career choice.”

“Well, I like helping people,” Michael said, quickly thinking through a pointed response. “Kids, especially. You know, sometimes they find themselves in bad situations, even if it’s not their fault. Dangerous situations, and they just need someone to save them. To rescue them from harm. You know what I mean?”

Max locked eyes with him for a minute, then looked down at his plate, clearly understanding that that whole thing was directed right at him.

As usual, though, Sarah could be counted upon to diffuse the tension. “Well, I think I’m gonna have the most boring job out of all of us,” she piped up.

“What do you study?” Maria asked.

“Biochemistry.”

Michael smirked. Yeah, his girl was fucking smart. Not that Maria wasn’t. But Max was an idiot.

“I have no idea what that even is,” Maria admitted.

“It’s basically just a major for me to pursue before I go to pharmacy school,” Sarah explained.

“Wow, you’re gonna be a pharmacist?” Maria sounded impressed. “You’ll make more money than all of us combined.”

“Yeah, but I’ll be paying off student loans longer than all of you, too,” Sarah pointed out.

“She’s being modest,” Michael said, reaching over to put his arm around her. “She’s got scholarships on top of scholarships. On top of scholarships. I still got a higher GPA, though.”

Sarah picked up one of her potatoes and threw it at him. It bounced right off his chest and landed on the floor, and Shango eagerly gobbled it up.

“Well, you guys are obviously both doing really well,” Maria summarized. “And don’t worry, Sarah, we have a Music Appreciation test on Tuesday, and he’s so not ready for it. So I’m sure your GPA will be higher in no time.”

“Oh!” She laughed and pointed a finger at him. “Burn!”

“I’m ready for it,” he lied, making a mental note to attempt to study some more tomorrow.

“Nice one, Maria,” Sarah complimented.

“Thanks.”

Shit, they really are getting along well, Michael noticed. Damn. That meant there would probably be more dinners like this in the future.

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

The chocolate chip cookies weren’t as tasty as Maria had hoped they would be. Instead of being soft and gooey, they were hard and crunchy. Luckily, Sarah had made chocolate marble cheesecake for dessert. And that, of course, was delicious.

Maria was definitely ready to go after dessert. The dinner had been passable after Michael got his little jabs at Max out of the way, but that still didn’t mean she was wanting to hang around all night. Max clearly wanted to stay a little longer, though. After dessert, he started asking her for some cooking advice, because his construction company had some chili competition coming up, and he wanted to win. Unsurprisingly, Sarah had the perfect recipe, and she wrote it all down for him, explaining each step in detail.

While the two of them conversed, Michael and Maria mostly ignored each other. He flopped down on the couch with Shango and started playing with him, and Maria tried to keep herself preoccupied by looking around some more. She found herself over at the computer desk, where the screensaver on the laptop was, once again, a picture of him and Sarah. Not just one, as it turned out. A whole slideshow of selfies Sarah seemed to have taken of the two of them. In some of them, he was kissing her cheek, and in others, she was kissing his. And there were some goofy ones, too, and ones of them out and about at football games and parties.

Watching that slideshow, Maria wondered if she should start taking more pictures of herself and Max. She just wasn’t a big selfie person. But it was a nice way to preserve all the memories.

Beside the computer was a small framed photo of Sarah and her family—two beautiful, smiling parents and a little brother. And behind that was photo of Michael, his mother, and his sister, taken at Christmas. As harsh as it was, they looked a lot happier without Andy there.

Maria picked up the photo and looked at the familiar faces there, faces that had welcomed her into their home, into their family, into their lives. It had been so long since she’d seen either Krista or Tina, but she’d thought about them a lot over the years.

“I miss them,” she said, barely even aware that words were coming out of her mouth.

Michael must have heard her, because she heard him tell Shango to get down, and moments later, he was up off the couch and standing next to her. “That was last Christmas,” he said.

Then it was no wonder that Tina looked so different. Krista pretty much looked the same as she had two and a half years ago, but Tina looked older, more like a high school girl than a middle school one now. “I miss your mom a lot,” she said, getting a little worked up just by seeing that smiling face in the photo. “She was like a mom to me, too.” A relationship with her had always come so much more naturally than a relationship with her actual mother did.

“I’m worried about her right now,” Michael confessed quietly.

“Why?” she asked, casting a quick glance back at Max and Sarah. Still talking.

“ ‘cause of Tina,” he replied. “She’s really stressed out.”

Maria sighed, staring down at the face of a little girl who wasn’t so little anymore. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered, feeling that familiar sense of guilt, convinced that she had to be at least partly responsible for this.

“It’s pretty surreal,” Michael agreed. “My mom and I want her to give it up for adoption, but she doesn’t wanna do that.”

“It’s a hard decision.” She set the photo back down, remembering how she herself had agonized about it once. Adoption had been the plan . . . until Max had convinced her otherwise.

“Yeah, but she’s just . . . she’s in denial,” he said. “She thinks it’s all just gonna work out.”

“Well, of course she does.” She was fourteen, naïve, clueless. And because of that, she was still hopeful for the future. Girls her age were much more inclined to envision a fairytale than a nightmare.

“But she won’t listen to us,” he mumbled frustratedly.

Maria didn’t want to dash any hopes that he may have had, but Tina wasn’t going to listen to them. She recognized this kind of behavior, because it had been her behavior once. It was stubborn and infuriating, but hopefully she would learn from it.

Michael locked eyes with her for a moment, gazing at her intently. “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” he proclaimed suddenly.

Oh god. She could practically see the wheels of his mind turning, and she knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

“You could talk to her.”

And there it was. She shifted her weight nervously, having been afraid that he would ask her to do that.

“Yeah, you could tell her about how hard it is,” he went on eagerly, as if this epiphany were now the best idea in the history of anyone’s ideas. “Maybe hearing it from you would be different than hearing it from me.”

“I don’t know . . .” she groaned reluctantly.

“No, come on,” he pressed. “You’re the perfect person to talk some sense into her. Everything she’s going through . . . you’ve lived it.”

“But that doesn’t mean . . .” She trailed off, feeling like she was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. Either she got involved and potentially did more harm than good, or she stayed out of it and looked like a total bitch.

“She’ll listen to you,” he insisted.

“No, she won’t. Look, the last time Tina and I spoke, she wasn’t exactly happy with me.” Maria still regretted that they had ended things on such bad terms, but Tina had just been so upset with her decision to leave town, to leave Michael.

“Maria, please,” he begged.

Oh . . . she wanted to help, and she wished there was something she could do. But she couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t her place to do anything. “I don’t think I should get involved,” she said. Her and Michael’s lives were already overlapping enough as it was; she didn’t need to add a family reunion to the mix. “I’m sorry, I just think it’s more of a family matter.” And she wasn’t part of that family anymore.

His head drooped in defeat, and he nodded dejectedly.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed, sulking back over to the couch. He flopped back down again, and Shango immediately hopped right back up onto his chest to play, but Michael was noticeably less enthused about it now.

Maria looked back into the kitchen, grateful to see that Max was done getting this vitally important chili recipe, and now he was thanking Sarah for the lovely dinner.

Thank God, she thought. The night was over.








TBC . . .

-April

[sarammlover]

I really feel bad for Michael here...I wouldn't like having my ex and his new GF over to my house for dinner. What an uncomfortable situation. I appreciate Sarah's intentions but I think she needs to not do that anymore. And I also feel Max was a little too attentive with Sarah....my imagination? Isabel....ew. I want to spray her with disinfectant right now.

[keepsmiling7]

just read this again.......was this the most awkward dinner, or what??
Thanks,
Carolyn

[April]

Sara:

I really feel bad for Michael here...I wouldn't like having my ex and his new GF over to my house for dinner. What an uncomfortable situation. I appreciate Sarah's intentions but I think she needs to not do that anymore.

Yeah, while Sarah has totally good intentions here . . . it's very uncomfortable for Michael. Having Maria there is awkward. Having Max there, a guy who he hates more than anything, a guy who he had to watch abduct Dylan from his own house . . . that's something else entirely.

And I also feel Max was a little too attentive with Sarah....my imagination?

Yes, your imagination. He's just focusing on being nice to her because it's a lot easier to do that than to be nice to Michael.


Carolyn:

was this the most awkward dinner, or what??

Yeah, it was pretty awkward!


Thanks for reading and leaving feedback!








Part 25








From the moment Tess got up, she felt sick. She spent the wee hours of the morning in the bathroom, then trudged out into the living room, shocked to see that Kyle was awake. And the TV was off. For once, the remote wasn’t even in his hand. He had the laptop out, and his eyes were transfixed to the screen. Her first thought was to assume porn, but she didn’t hear any moaning and groaning.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, so she had to get closer to look down at the screen. He was on that Custom Ink site, and he was designing a t-shirt for . . . the Bulldogs? Who were the Bulldogs?

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“The team,” he answered vaguely.

Even though she was tired, her brain was still functioning well enough to piece it together. The Bulldogs were the youth football team at Pound, the one he had helped out with on Friday. He hadn’t said much about it, but Michael and Sarah had both told her that it had gone well.

“Don’t they have jerseys?” she asked.

“Yeah, these are just for the kids to wear . . . whenever,” he explained. “Parents, too.” He changed the font of Bulldogs to something that looked a little more ferocious. And then he started looking through mascot logos to find the perfect bulldog picture. It was definitely going to look good when it was done.

“I like it,” she said, but really, she didn’t care about the shirt. It was the fact that Kyle was designing the shirt that was notable. He was still sitting on that couch, but at least he was actually doing something, being productive for a change.

He wasn’t saying much, but there was a little twinkle in his eye, a change in his posture. It was like he was excited about this shirt, or at least about this team. And if he was excited about something, then she was excited, too.

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

Look at the rack on her, Michael thought as he flipped through the latest issue of Playboy magazine. Damn. He wasn’t quite as much of a boob guy as he was an ass man, but regardless, he could appreciate two good bazookas when he saw them.

He was the only one on front desk duty at Haymsworth Hall, and it was turning out to be a boring day. But that wasn’t all bad. If there was no activity, then he had plenty of time to look through his magazine. He’d brought along a couple of old issues, too, just to see if he could make it through the articles this time without becoming . . . distracted.

Someone came up to the front desk, casting a small shadow over the Playmate of the Month, and he didn’t even glance up, assuming it was just another dumb freshman. “We don’t give out condoms,” he said, eyes glued to the page. “Just stamps.”

“Ew.”

He looked up, surprised to see Tess standing there. “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked her.

“Are you looking at Playboy?”

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“No, as long as Isabel’s not the centerfold.”

“No, it’s . . .” He found the lovely young lady’s name. “Anya Neeze.” His mouth gaped the moment he heard how dirty that sounded. “Anya Neeze? Are you kidding? That’s fuckin’ perfect!”

“Let me see.” She leaned over the counter and got a look at the unbelievable name. “Hmm. See, this is why parents need to think twice when naming their kids.”

“I was almost Richard,” he informed her.

“Richard?” She made a face of disgust.

“Yeah, but that would’ve been fine, ‘cause then people could’ve called me Dick.”

“Oh, Michael . . . people still called you that,” she assured him, “just not to your face.”

He laughed lightly, closing his magazine. “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked again.

“Oh, just . . . thought I’d stop by,” she said, attempting to sound casual, but in reality, it came off as anything but. “I swung by the apartment first, but Sarah told me you’d be here all afternoon.”

“Yep.” For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she was wanting to spend any time with him. Tess was his friend and all, but they didn’t hang out one-on-one. Either Kyle or Sarah was always with them. “What’s up?” he prodded, getting the sense that there was a very specific reason for her visit.

“Well . . . I need to talk to you.” She looked in both directions, then suddenly hoisted herself up on top the counter.

“Oh, wow.” He’d never seen anyone attempt this before. She looked like a beached whale. A very tiny beached whale, of course.

“Michael!” she whined, kicking her legs, flailing her arms.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Help me!”

“Uh . . . okay.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her over with ease. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling up a chair next to him.

“You know, there’s a door,” he pointed out as she sat down.

“Shut up.” She whacked him on the arm playfully and took a minute to fix her hair. She wasn’t technically supposed to be back there, but he figured it was no big deal. Clearly she was desperate for company.

“So . . .” he said leadingly. This was weird. Something was up, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“So . . . I was just wondering if Kyle had said anything to you about the next football practice.”

He made a face, not sure where she was going with this. “Not much,” he answered. “Just that he’d be at the next one.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good, don’t you think?”

“It is good.” He wasn’t delusional enough to think that this pee-wee football team was going to fix all of his friend’s problems, but at least it was getting him interested in something again.

“You know what he was doing this morning?” she said.

“What?” Hopefully not diagraming any football plays. These boys could barely handle the whole whopping three plays they’d worked on Friday.

“He was designing a t-shirt,” she informed him. “A Bulldogs t-shirt. Did you ask him to do that?”

“No.” Now that he thought of it, though, that was a good idea. “Huh.”

“Yeah.” There was a sparkle in her eyes for a moment, like she was feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time. “I think he’s really getting into it.”

“That’s great.” That had been the goal.

“I wish you guys had more than two games.”

“Yeah, I know.” Maybe if he’d been the one to coach this right from the start, then he could have gotten Kyle involved with it back in September.

“It’s still good, though,” she said. “It’s really good.”

He kept waiting for her to say more, because somehow, he doubted that she’d come all the way to campus just to have this conversation.

She exhaled heavily, looking down at her lap, and he just sat there and waited it out, figuring she’d say whatever was on her mind at one point or another. Until then . . . he reached for his magazine again, but just as he was about to open it, she blurted something out that shocked the hell out of him.

“I’m pregnant.”

He froze, trying to figure out if he’d heard her right. Pregnant, pregnant . . . What rhymed with pregnant? Maybe . . . stagnant? She was stagnant?

“Michael?”

He set the magazine back down, slowly turning to face her. “You’re . . .” Looking down at her stomach, he couldn’t help but think that she still looked small, her normal size. Not at all like she had a bun in the oven.

“I’m pregnant,” she said again, and this time, he noticed the tears in her eyes.

Holy shit, he thought, trying to process it. Tess had a kid in there. He was going to be Uncle Michael. “Oh my god, congratulations,” he said, snapping himself out of his stupor long enough to hug her.

“Thanks,” she said, but he could feel tears against the side of his neck.

He pulled back, staring at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, wiping off her cheeks. “It’s just . . . I’m emotional.”

“Right.” Steve had told him horror stories about pregnancy hormones. Luckily for him, Cheryl was scheduled to pop this week.

“Wow,” he said, still taking it all in. “How did you . . .” The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. “I mean, can Kyle . . .” There was really no good way to phrase what he was trying to ask.

Thankfully, she just understood. “He’s not completely paralyzed,” she reminded him. “He can still . . .” Instead of saying it, she jerked her hand upward dramatically.

“Right. I didn’t even know you guys had sex, though.”

“Well, it doesn’t happen very often,” she admitted, “which is why I kinda . . . got sporadic with my birth control pill. That was obviously a big mistake.”

“A mistake?” he echoed, confused. As far as he knew, Tess had drawn up a list of baby names after her second date with Kyle. She’d been thinking about this for a while.

“I mean . . . I don’t mean it like that,” she corrected. “It’s just . . . I’m scared.”

“Why?” he asked. Wasn’t this ultimately what she wanted?

“I just didn’t think this was gonna happen,” she fretted as a few more tears fell. “Or I thought, when it did, I’d be ready for it.”

“You’re not ready?”

“I don’t—I don’t know,” she stuttered, crying a little harder now. “I’m twenty years old; I’m a part-time cheer coach. My fiancé has been my fiancé for over two years. He spends most of his time on the couch, and I spend most of my time being mad at him. We’re broke, we’re distant, we’re--”

“Meant to be together,” he cut in. Despite how tough things had become for them in recent years, he still remembered the Tess and Kyle from high school, the golden couple.

“But we’re not . . . happy,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “We’re not happy, Michael.”

He frowned, starting to understand why this was more serious than he’d thought. Sure, Tess had wanted a baby with Kyle back when he’d still been . . . him. But nowadays, now that he was this shell of himself, she didn’t necessarily want that anymore.

“Does he know?” Michael asked.

She sniffed back tears, wiping her nose with her hand. “No. And you can’t tell him.”

He groaned, knowing that would be hard.

“Michael, promise,” she pleaded.

“I promise.” He didn’t exactly like keeping secrets from the guy he thought of as a brother, but this wasn’t his news to tell. “Who else knows?”

“Just you and Sarah.”

“Sarah?” he echoed. “She didn’t say anything.”

“Because I asked her not to. But last week after yoga, I told her I thought I might be, so she went with me and got the test.”

“Huh.” She hadn’t let on at all. As tight-lipped as she had been, that was how tight-lipped he was going to have to be around Kyle now.

“I’m glad you know, though,” she said.

“Yeah.” He was glad, too. “Why’d you tell me?”

“Because you’re my friend,” she replied simply. “And you’re Kyle’s friend. And maybe you could do a little digging and figure out if it’s a good time for me to tell him.”

“Wait, what?” That sounded like something that required subtlety, and he didn’t have any of that.

“Just figure out when he’s in the right headspace for me to tell him,” she said. “I don’t wanna upset him.”

“You think he’ll be upset?” For some reason, he’d pictured Kyle being happy about this. He’d pictured a renewed sense of purpose for him, a new mission in life. Once upon a time, it had been about being a great football player; now maybe it could be about being a great father.

“I don’t know how he’ll feel,” Tess admitted. “I don’t even know how I feel.”

“You’re nervous,” he said, “but that’s alright. It’ll be fine.”

She blinked back tears and nodded, not completely convincing in her agreement, but it was better than nothing.

“Come here,” he said, putting his arm around her, hugging her to his side. He wasn’t about to admit it, but now he felt a little nervous, too. This coaching gig he’d given Kyle suddenly had higher stakes attached to it. At this point, it couldn’t just help him out; it had to get him back on track.

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

“Alright, here’s your backpack,” Maria said, handing Dylan a bag that was practically as big as he was. He loved it, though, because it was shaped like Buzz Lightyear. Anything Buzz or dinosaurs or cars, he was all over it.

“Thanks,” he said, swinging it onto his shoulders like a little pro. “Bye, Mom!” he chirped, scampering away from the car.

“Bye.” She watched him go, getting all nostalgic for the early days of kindergarten when he’d let her hold his hand and walk him inside. “Have a good day!”

He had already caught up to a group of friends, and together, they jabbered as they headed inside the school building.

He’s not a little boy anymore, she thought, wondering what it would be like next year. There would probably come a day when he was so eager to see his friends that he just forgot to say bye to her altogether. That day was going to suck.

She looked to her right, where another mom was dropping her little boy off for the day. He was even smaller than Dylan, maybe in preschool. But the mom was clearly older. Not old by any means, but older than Maria herself was. Most every other mom had a good five or six years on her at the very least. Sometimes she wondered if they saw her and thought she might be Dylan’s older sister or something.

Nobody probably even cares, she reminded herself, giving a quick, friendly little smile to the other mom as her little boy walked off on his own, too.

“They grow up so fast,” the other mom said.

“Yeah,” Maria agreed.

“Have a good day.”

“You, too.” She walked back around to the driver’s side and got back in the car, twisting the key in the ignition. She didn’t drive off, though, because something was eating away at her. Seeing all these children and all these moms, it made her think about somebody else who was going to be a mom, somebody who was going to be an even younger mom than her.

God, she hated to think of all the hardships Tina was going to have to go through. She hated the judgment and the struggle and the tears she was going to have to deal with. And what made it all even worse was that Tina was a smart girl. Before this, she’d been a honor roll student, never turned in a late assignment. She’d always been fixated on being popular, but when had that crossed the line into being reckless?

Maria raked one hand through her hair, agonizing over her own feeling of guilt and sympathy. There was so much she wanted to say to Tina, so much she could say. But she really did believe it was a family matter, so what if it wasn’t her right to get involved?

She sighed heavily. Then again . . . Michael had asked her. So maybe if she did, it would just be . . . a favor. And maybe some good would come of it.

Oh, please don’t let me regret this, she thought, driving away from the curb. She was supposed to head to campus for a morning class, and then she had a list of errands to fill up the rest of her day. But they could wait.

She drove in the opposite direction of campus, only taking out her cell phone when she was stopped at a red light. She pressed the speed dial number for Max and waited for him to pick up. It took a while, which meant he was busy at work today.

“Hey,” he finally answered.

“Hey.” The light turned green, and she and the other cars slowly rolled forward, only to be stopped at another red light on the next block. “I was wondering if you could pick up Dylan today,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Why?”

She wet her lips, reluctant to tell him the truth about what she intended to do today. But she had to tell him something. “I think I’m gonna head up to Roswell today,” she said. “My mom called and mentioned something about having a lot of work to do at her store, so I figured she could use some help.” She cringed, thinking that this was the worst excuse in the history of excuses, due to the fact that she never voluntarily spent time with her mom.

“Well, that’s nice of you,” Max said. “But are you sure you want to?”

“Yeah. You know, we haven’t really talked since Halloween, and she wasn’t too happy with me, so maybe this’ll give us the chance to clear the air.”

“Right,” Max said. “Well, have fun.”

“Thanks.” Fun? No, this wasn’t going to be fun. Even if she really was going to spend the day with her mom, fun would not be a possibility. “I’ll see you later then, probably not until sometime this evening.”

“Alright,” he said. “Bye. Love you.”

Oh, I should’ve told the truth, she thought, but it was too late for that now. “Love you, too.” She ended the call and set her phone down in the passenger’s seat, driving forward once she had another green light. One she got past that one, it was open highway. Now she had an hour-long drive through deserts and small towns ahead of her.

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

“I can’t believe you kept it a secret from me,” Michael said as he and Sarah strolled past the fountain outside the Student Union.

“It really wasn’t that hard,” she said as she labored under the weight of her heavy backpack. “Tess asked me not to say anything, so I didn’t.”

“Now I have to keep it a secret from Kyle.”

“Oh, not for long,” she assured him. “She’ll tell him soon.”

“You think?” She’d seemed more than a little reluctant to him.

“Probably,” Sarah said, groaning as her backpack started to slide down her shoulders.

Michael reached over and held up the bottom of it, helping her to get it readjusted.

“Thanks,” she said.

“It’s just crazy,” he went on. “I didn’t even know they were still doin’ it.”

“Well . . . I think Tess does most of the work. Kyle pretty much just lays there.”

“Yeah.” He made a face as he started to visualize things he didn’t at all want to visualize. “It’s crazy. My best friend’s gonna be a dad. He’s gonna have a kid.”

“Sure is.”

“Everyone’s gettin’ pregnant lately. Cheryl, Tess, Tina . . .”

“Must be something in the water,” she agreed. “I’d better watch out. Maybe you should wear two condoms now.” When he gave her a stunned look, she laughed. “Just kidding.”

“I was gonna say, screw that. There’s a limit.” One was bad enough.

Sarah was clearly still struggling to carry her heavy backpack, so he stopped walking, reached over, and slid it down off her shoulders for her. He slung it up onto his own back, carrying his bag on one shoulder now, hers on the other. No sense in making her do it. The girl was, like, 5’2”. This thing practically weighed more than she did.

“Oh, that’s better,” she said, walking freely now. “You’re such a stud.”

“I know.” Truth was, though, both these bags together were feeling pretty heavy. He needed to hit the weight room again pronto.

“Do you think Tess and Kyle are gonna be okay?” she asked him as they continued walking.

“Sure,” he said, wishing he could be one-hundred percent confident about that.

“I think she’s really scared to tell him,” Sarah revealed.

“Why?”

“Because it’s—it’s a baby,” she sputtered. “It’s life-changing. And Kyle’s already had a lot of life-changing things happen to him. I mean, he’s partially paralyzed and depressed. He’s just not been in a very good frame of mind these past few years.”

“So would you be scared to tell me?” he asked, wondering if there was some sort of inherent fear or if Tess and Kyle’s situation just magnified it.

“No,” she said, before changing her mind. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re twenty-one and you’re a guy.”

“So?”

“So it’s just not the kind of thing most twenty-one year old guys wanna hear.”

Fair enough, she had him there. But he’d heard it before, and it hadn’t freaked him out then.

“But then again,” she reconsidered, “you’re not the typical twenty-one year old guy. You’ve been in that dad role before, so I feel like I could tell you pretty easily.”

He smiled, happy to hear that. But just to be sure anyway, he asked, “You’re not pregnant, right?”

“No. Actually, I just got my period this morning.”

“Ugh.” He made a face, knowing and dreading what that meant. “So no sex for me this week, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.” Personally, he was down for it, but Sarah got really self-conscious. “Blow-jobs?” he asked hopefully.

Smiling, she rolled her eyes at his horniness. “Yes.”

“Alright, I’m good then.” Given all these pregnancies that were popping up, sampling the sausage was probably the way to go anyway.

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

Maria braced herself for a trip down memory lane from the moment she left Carlsbad. She hadn’t been to Roswell since she’d left, but she’d always known this day would come. Whether it had been to go visit her mom or maybe just to drive on through, she’d always known she would have to go back to Roswell someday.

It hit her full force from the moment she hit the city limits. There was the Lift-Off gas station, where she’d applied for a job but had been turned down. And there was the outer space themed McDonald’s where Michael’s dad had worked for a very, very short time before getting fired.

She drove further into town, passing by West Roswell high school and a few blocks later, the library where she used to work with Krista. And then there was the coffee shop where Michael had convinced her to sing on Mother’s Day. That was where it had all gone wrong, in retrospect. If she hadn’t gotten up there for open mic night, she never would have left town to do any other performances. And Michael wouldn’t have had to take care of Dylan on his own.

She drove down to Paseo del Norte and up to the familiar house that had never felt quite like a home. Her mom was the only one living there now, unless she and Jim Valenti were back together. They’d had an on-off thing for years now, so anything was possible.

She didn’t stop at her mom’s house, even though her mom wasn’t home. It was just too painful to be there, not only because of the memories of all the fights that they had had, but because that was the exact spot where she’d had to say goodbye to Michael, the exact road she’d driven off on two and half long years ago. It just hurt too much.

She ended up back on the main drag, bypassing the Blue Moon bar and E.T.’s Pizzeria, and there was the Crashdown. It looked repainted, but other than that . . . exactly the same.

Pulling into a parking space out front, she couldn’t help but be nostalgic. As much as she had hated that job, it really had kept her afloat financially. And in the end, even though she hadn’t known it at the time . . . working there had changed her life.

There really was no reason to get out of the car and go inside, but she did.

Familiar sights and smells greeted her. It wasn’t quite time for lunch yet, so it wasn’t very busy. These were the kind of boring shifts that used to make Maria itch with the desire to leave. But now that she was back . . . it didn’t seem so bad. She actually even felt kind of hungry.

She looked back into the kitchen, hoping to see her old friend Jose, the cook. But it was someone she didn’t recognize, along with someone she did. Liz’s dad, Jeff Parker, was at the grill. When he caught sight of her, he recognized her immediately. “Maria!” he called. “Good to see you.”

“Hi, Mr. Parker.” She walked up to the counter, figuring she wasn’t allowed to go around anymore.

“Well, come on over here,” he said, halfway hanging out the order window.

“Oh, okay.” She made her way to him, almost feeling like she was going back in time. Being back here made it seem like it wasn’t all that long ago that she’d actually worked there. If she put on a uniform, she was pretty certain she could waitress just like she used to.

“How are you doing?” Jeff asked her.

“I’m doing good,” she replied.

“Back in town, huh?”

“Just for today.”

“Yeah. Well, Lizzie tells me the two of you have become pretty close friends.”

“Yeah.” It was probably a bit odd for most people to comprehend, since they both had a child with Max. But she and Liz had always gotten along well, and there was absolutely no jealousy or animosity there.

“That’s great,” Jeff said. “That’s great. Well, it’s good to see you again. Are you gonna stay and eat?”

“Um, sure.”

“Excellent. Go ahead and have a seat. It’s on me today.”

“Oh, you don’t have to--”

“It’s on me,” he reiterated.

She smiled at him and headed back out into the diner. There really was no question as to where she was going to sit. Her feet took her over there automatically.

“Instead of milk, could you get me a beer?” he’d asked.

Right away, she’d known he wasn’t old enough, but she’d decided to play along. “Sure. Anything else?”

“That’s it. Thanks . . .” He looked at her nametag, then flashed her a grin that had probably made countless girls go weak in the knew. “Maria.”

She pushed the memory out of her mind.

God, how many times had Michael come into this place and sat down right there in that booth? Sometimes he’d been with Kyle, sometimes with Isabel, sometime with Tina; but most of the time, he’d just come in on his own. And always, every single time, he’d sat in that same booth along the north wall, the one that was in the middle of all the others.

She sat down opposite the side he usually sat on, and an incredible feeling of déjà vu swept over her. Even though she’d usually been waiting on him, she’d spent plenty of break time sitting here with him, just talking to him, trying to figure out who he was and what his life was about. She remembered helping him study and watching him begrudgingly fill out his college application for Alabama. And she remembered . . . other stuff, too. Like a first kiss, and a first . . .

Well. She didn’t need to be remembering that.

“Welcome to the Crashdown. Can I get you something to drink?”

That voice. She recognized that crackling smoker’s voice before she even looked up to see who it was. “Agnes?” Good God, she was still working there?

“Yes?”

“It’s me.”

No response.

“Maria.”

Agnes just looked at her as though she had no idea who she was.

“We worked together for a year.”

Agnes shrugged unapologetically. “I don’t remember you.”

Maria sighed, deflated. “Just get me a coke then,” she mumbled.

With that same trademark lack of customer service she’d always had, Agnes slowly crept off to fill her up a drink.

With her gone, Maria was left with her memories again, and this time, she remembered that fateful day when Michael had defended her. Those greasy trucker guys she used to hate waiting on had been giving her a hard time, and he’d stood up for her, protected her, even punched them out for her. She’d been so angry with him at the time, because the whole thing had caused a scene and gotten her fired. But looking back on it now . . . she really did feel grateful.

After gorging on a cheeseburger and fries for lunch, Maria said goodbye to Jeff, who made her promise to come back sometime, and Agnes, who apparently wasn’t too concerned about a tip because she just rolled her eyes at her. She got back in her car and drove around a little bit more, trying to work up the courage to turn onto those old, familiar streets that would lead her to that old, familiar house.

It dawned on her as she got closer that Krista and Tina might not even be home. It was a weekday, after all. Tina would most likely be at school, and Krista would most likely be at work. She didn’t work at the library anymore. She remembered Michael telling her that.

Deciding to chance it, she slowly pulled up outside the Guerin house, noticing that her fingers were shaking. Her heart was pounding, and her mind had gone completely blank as she tried very hard not to remember much at all.

With trembling fingers, she shut off the car and pulled the key out of the ignition. A car she recognized as Krista’s was in the driveway, so maybe she was home after all. It was worth a shot.

Maria got out of the car, took a deep breath to calm herself, and headed up to the front door. Don’t think, she coached herself. Don’t remember. But it was so hard not to when all she could hear was Michael’s “I hate you” ringing in her ears. They’d been standing right out there in the front yard, fighting about her decision to leave when he’d said it.

She tried the doorbell, but it didn’t seem to work anymore, so she knocked instead. In a way, it felt weird to not just walk right in. But in another way, it just felt weird to be back there at all.

She heard someone coming downstairs, and seconds later, the door unlocked, and Krista opened it. She literally gasped when she saw Maria standing there, as if she were seeing a ghost or something.

Maria smiled softly, not sure what to say to the woman who had almost become her mother-in-law. “Hi.”

Mouth agape, Krista managed a stunned, “Hi,” in response. She held one hand to her chest and kept staring at Maria in disbelief. At last, though, she smiled, too, and she stepped outside to hug her. “Oh, goodness,” she said. “How are you?”

Maria hugged her back, blinking to keep the tears inside. “I’m good.” It was strange, but even though seeing Michael after years apart had terrified her, seeing Krista just made her realize how much she’d missed her.

Krista slowly released her, smiling tearfully. “I never thought I’d see you again,” she admitted. “You look exactly the same.”

“So do you.” That wasn’t completely true, though. There was more grey in her hair now, more wrinkles beneath her eyes. But she still looked warm and compassionate and seemed to have all the same qualities Maria had always admired about her.

“Well, come on in,” Krista said, stepping back inside, holding the door open.

“Thanks.” Maria stepped inside nervously, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. She looked around and felt like she was just . . . back. Back to that time in her life when this house had become her sanctuary, her safe haven from everything out there in the big, bad world.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Krista offered as she closed the door. “Something to drink?”

“Oh, I’m good. Thanks,” Maria politely declined, still focused on taking in her surroundings. Nothing much had changed. The kitchen looked the same, the living room had the same setup. Except there were no pictures of Andy anymore. The only photos she saw on the end table and on the fireplace mantle were of Tina, Michael, and Krista.

“Go ahead, sit down,” Krista said, motioning towards the couch.

“Okay.” Maria wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her jeans and took a seat on the middle cushion, fighting to keep the memories from invading her mind. Right now, it was mainly the memory of Christmas with Michael, sitting there right on that couch with him, playing her guitar, singing a song that would now always make her think of him. She couldn’t let those overcome her right now, though, not if she wanted to be able to carry on a comprehensible conversation.

“It’s so good to see you,” Krista said, sitting beside her.

“You, too.”

“I just really never thought . . .” Krista trailed off and smiled at her again. “How have you been?” she asked. “How’s Dylan?”

“He’s great,” Maria happily informed her. “He’s in kindergarten now.”

Krista brought one hand up to cover her mouth, and for a brief moment, she got a little teary-eyed. “Wow.”

“I know, right?”

“It seems like just yesterday we were having his birthday party, and he was turning three.”

“I know.” Time really had flown right by. “But he’s doing really good. He likes school, and he likes his teacher. He likes playing football.”

“Oh, does he?”

“Yeah.” At this rate, he’d probably keep playing all through high school. Maybe he’d even end up being as good as his coach. It was too early to tell.

“And what about you?” Krista asked. “What have you been up to?”

“Well . . .” It was nice to be able to tell her all of this. “I’m in college.”

Again, Krista’s eyes filled with tears. “Did you get your GED?” she asked tearfully.

“Yeah.”

She wiped a few tears away and gave her a quick, proud hug again. “Good for you.”

“Thank you.” None of this would have been possible without Krista. If she hadn’t agreed to let her live with them . . . well, it was scary to think about what might have happened to her, what kind of person she might have become.

“So where did you go when you left?” Krista questioned gently. “I always wondered.”

“It was just all around for a while,” Maria replied. “But eventually I settled down in Houston.”

“Oh, that’s a big city.”

“Yeah. But I liked it there.”

“Yeah? So what—what’re you doing back here then? Are you visiting your mom?”

“Um . . .” Maria moved around a bit, sort of confused. “Didn’t Michael tell you?”

“Michael?” Krista echoed. “What do you mean?”

Oh, shit. She had just assumed that Krista would know. “I, uh . . . I’m going to college in Carlsbad,” she explained. “Michael and I actually have a class together.”

Krista’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“Yeah, a music one.”

“Michael’s in a music class?”

“Music Appreciation?” Was this ringing any kind of bell?

Apparently not. “Well, this is news to me,” Krista said. “No, he, uh . . . he didn’t tell me about any of that. I had no idea.”

“Well . . . surprise.” She tried to laugh a little.

“Wow,” Krista said as she processed it. “So . . . so you and Michael have seen each other again?”

We sit by each other every day in that class, Maria thought, suddenly wondering if there was something wrong with that. “Yeah, we have.”

“What’s that been like?”

“Well . . . it was weird at first,” she admitted. “It’s still kinda weird. But he introduced me to Sarah. We even went over there for dinner Saturday night.”

“We?” Krista echoed. “You and Dylan?”

Oh, crap. She just kept putting her foot in her mouth, didn’t she? “No, me and . . . and Max,” she stuttered weakly.

“Max.” Krista let that name roll over her tongue, and she remembered who he was right away. “That’s Dylan’s father, isn’t it?”

Maria subtly wiped her hands on her jeans again. “Yeah.”

Krista didn’t say anything in response to that, but Maria could tell what she was thinking. That’s the man who took Dylan out of this house and drove off with him. That man is the reason why Michael jumped off a bridge.

“Sarah invited us,” Maria added, just to shift the topic away from Max. “She seems really nice. I can see why Michael likes her.”

“Oh, yes, she’s amazing,” Krista readily agreed. “Smart girl. Driven.”

Both things I’ve just never quite been able to be, Maria thought regretfully. She wasn’t going to get down on herself, though. Today wasn’t about her. “Hey, so listen,” she said, “Michael told me some things that have . . . changed since I’ve been gone.”

“He told you about Andy,” Krista guessed.

“Yeah.” It didn’t matter if the man had been a miserable alcoholic; he’d still been Krista’s husband and Michael and Tina’s dad. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Krista said. “It was hard time, especially for Tina. Michael’s handled it alright, though.”

“And about Tina . . .” she carefully segued. “Michael told me she’s . . .” She trailed off, not wanting to say the word.

“He told you?”

“Yeah.”

Krista sighed, looking down at her lap, wiping a few more tears away, sad ones this time. “That’s been especially hard for me,” she confessed. “We’ve grown pretty distant these past couple years. She’s, uh . . . opinionated and rebellious and . . .” She shrugged helplessly. “Pregnant. She’s pregnant.”

Maria inhaled shakily, not sure if she was going to be able to handle seeing Tina with a baby bump. Or . . . was she far enough along to have a bump yet? She couldn’t remember. “That’s actually why I’m here,” she revealed. “Michael thought it might be a good idea for me to talk to her.”

“Oh, he did, did he?”

“Yeah.” Maybe I shouldn’t have just shown up out of the blue like this, Maria thought, second-guessing everything now. Clearly this was not a course of action Michael had discussed with his mother. “It’s just that . . . I went through it, you know, when I was just a year older than her. And sometimes talking to someone who’s been through the exact same thing . . .”

“It can help,” Krista agreed.

“Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want me to, I don’t have to. It’s just that Michael made it sound like you guys were having a hard time getting through to her, so maybe . . .” She trailed off, not sure if she was the right person for this job. Half the time, she could hardly put a coherent sentence together. “I don’t know.”

“No, I would be more than willing to have you talk to her,” Krista said. “But she’s very different from when you left. She’s very different.”

“I get that.” Hell, back when she’d gotten pregnant, she’d been a burgeoning drug-addict and a total party girl. People changed.

“It’s not that we don’t want her to have the baby,” Krista made sure to explain. “We just think she’s too young, and it would be the best decision for her to put it up for adoption.”

“I agree,” Maria said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Dylan, but . . . I know my life would’ve been easier if I’d put him up for adoption like I originally planned.”

“What changed your mind?” Krista asked.

“Max.” Maria rolled her eyes at her own adolescent stupidity. “My boyfriend at the time.”

“And current boyfriend,” Krista added.

“Yes.” Again . . . people changed.

“See, that’s the problem,” Krista said. “Tina has a boyfriend, too. His name’s Nicholas; he’s a freshman in high school. She thinks they’re in love.”

Maybe they are, Maria thought, but she wasn’t about to voice it. She totally believed in the possibility of falling in love at a young age, but that still wasn’t any reason to attempt to raise a child together. “Do you think I could talk to her?” she asked. “I’d really like to.”

Krista reached over and held her hands, squeezing gently. “Sure,” she said. “Maybe that might help.”

She sure hoped it would.

She followed Krista upstairs to Tina’s room, and they knocked lightly on the door. “Tina?” Krista said. “She stayed home sick today.”

Morning sickness, Maria registered. She remembered that well.

“Tina?” Krista pushed open the door, and right away, Maria realized something wasn’t right. There was a big, long lump on Tina’s bed, but it was covered up completely with blankets. Clearly not her.

“Tina?” Krista pulled back the blankets, and indeed, there were only a bunch of pillows on her bed, arranged to look like a sleeping person. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.

No, believable, Maria thought. She’d done the exact same thing countless times.

“She snuck out.”

“Probably to her boyfriend’s,” Maria deduced. Where else would she be so desperate to go?

“Unbelievable,” Krista ground out again. “I’m sorry, Maria, I have to go find her.”

“I understand.”

“But you can just wait here,” Krista offered. “Make yourself at home. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Maria smiled nervously. No. No, it really shouldn’t.

“I’m gonna go find her and bring her back here,” Krista decided, “and then maybe when I’m done yelling at her, you can talk some sense in to her. I just don’t know what to say to her anymore.”

“Right.” The whole thing was so sad, and so reminiscent of the deterioration of her own relationship with her mother. She didn’t want Tina and Krista to end up being so combative, so estranged.

“I’ll be back,” Krista said, heading back downstairs. In seconds, she seemed to have located her keys, put on her shoes, and headed out.

Maria shut the door to Tina’s room again and stood in the upstairs hallway by herself now, feeling completely . . . tempted. Tempted to open up that next door and look inside at Michael’s room. Just to see if it still looked the same. Just to remember.

She reached for the doorknob, hesitating when her fingertips just barely grazed it. No, her mind screamed. Don’t do this. There was just too much to remember in there.

Stuffing her hand in her pocket, she hurried back downstairs, figuring maybe she could just sit in the laundry room until Krista returned. No major memories in there.








TBC . . .

-April

[keepsmiling7]

It will be interesting if Max finds out the true reason for her trip to Roswell.
Thanks,
Carolyn

[sarammlover]

Holy crap....tess is pregnant. Whoa. This will either pull Kyle out of his funk or it will break them completely. I hope for the former. I am glad Maria is there to talk to Tina. I also think adoption is the way to go here....

[April]

Carolyn:

It will be interesting if Max finds out the true reason for her trip to Roswell.

Yep, that would be interesting.

Sara:

Holy crap....tess is pregnant. Whoa. This will either pull Kyle out of his funk or it will break them completely. I hope for the former.

Life has thrown him and Tess a bit of a curveball here, hasn't it?

I am glad Maria is there to talk to Tina. I also think adoption is the way to go here....

It would be the most logical decision, surely.


Thanks for reading!








Part 26








“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Mom?”

Max latched Dylan into his car seat, making sure the seatbelt was extra snug around his waist. “She couldn’t come get you today,” he responded. “That’s why I’m here. Is that alright?”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? Good.” So far, this had gone much smoother than the first time he’d attempted to pick Dylan up from school this year. Michael Guerin hadn’t stormed outside and started punching him yet. “All ready to go?” he asked.

Dylan nodded affirmatively.

“Alright.” Max shut the door to the backseat, and then his cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and glanced down at the name. It was Amy. “Hello?” he answered, confused as to why she would be calling him.

“Hi, Max,” she said. “Is my daughter around? I’ve been trying to reach her all day.”

Max frowned. “Isn’t she with you?”

“What do you mean?”

What? He thought back to his conversation with Maria, pretty sure that he’d heard her right. “I thought she was helpin’ you at the store today.”

“The store?” Amy echoed. “My store?”

“Yeah.”

There was a bit of a pause, then a long, drawn-out, “No . . . I haven’t even talked to her today, let alone seen her. What’s going on?”

That was what he wanted to know. Something wasn’t adding up. What Amy was telling him and what Maria had told him were two completely different things. “Amy, I’ll call you back,” he decided, ending the call.

He looked around, not sure why he was doing so. Wherever Maria was . . . she wasn’t there.

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

As it turned out, it didn’t matter where Maria went in the Guerin house. Every single room was saturated with memories, some of them innocent and some of them . . . not so innocent. God, even the laundry room had sex memories.

The racier memories were the ones that hit first, but they weren’t necessarily the ones that hit the hardest. There were little things that popped into her mind and stayed there. Like when she was in the kitchen, remembering how she and Michael used to do dishes or try to cook together, and they’d spend more time flirting than actually accomplishing their task. Or when she went to sit out on the front porch but couldn’t because that was where he’d told her loved her for the first time.

God, it was ridiculous.

There was one room, however, that wasn’t a big reminder of either romance or sexuality, and that was the little room that used to be Dylan’s. She didn’t expect it to look the same, and lo behold, it didn’t. Same wallpaper, same carpet, but the bed Michael had put together was for him was covered with boxes now, and the shelves he’d assembled were devoid of toys.

Maria mainly waited in that room, but eventually . . . something got the best of her. Curiosity? Reminiscence? Whatever it was, it drove her back upstairs and back to the closed door to Michael’s room. She went inside this time and, because of habit, shut the door behind her.

There was no need to flip on the light. Even in shadow, she could make out the outline of everything. Dresser, mirror, desk . . . bed.

Suddenly it was like her mind was overloaded, and so much was coming back. Plenty of sex memories, sure, but other memories, too. Like the first night she’d spent in that room. The first time they’d shared the bed. Unchained Melody. A proposal.

Oh god. Maybe it had been a mistake to come in here.

Thankfully, she heard the front door open and slam shut, only to be opened again a few seconds later. Yelling arose from downstairs, mostly teenage angsty yelling, but Krista was raising her voice, too.

“You just have to accept the fact that I’m not a little kid anymore!” Tina shouted. Her voice had lost its high pitch of childhood.

“Well, you sure are acting childish.”

Maria left the bedroom, standing in the hallway unsurely. Should she go down?

“Because you won’t give me any freedom!” Tina yelled. “God!” She stormed upstairs then, and when she was nearly at the top, she spotted Maria and spat, “What the hell is this?”

Tina was wearing too much makeup and a tight shirt, making it easy to notice her baby bump. It took Maria aback for a moment, but she still managed a friendly greeting. “Hi, Tina.”

But Tina clearly wasn’t happy to see her. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. She stormed right past Maria and into her room, slamming the door.

Well, that went nowhere, Maria thought. Not that she had expected much more than that.

She went back downstairs, saddened to see Krista sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, crying. This poor woman didn’t deserve this. “Maybe this isn’t the best time,” she said, sensing that this mother/daughter argument wasn’t going to die down anytime soon.

“No, it’s as good of time as any,” Krista said tearfully. “You might as well go try.”

Go? Maria thought timidly. Up there? As pathetic as it was, she was intimidated by Tina’s attitude right now. Teenage girls were the worst people to try to reason with.

I came all this way, she reminded herself, heading back up. I have to go for it.

Hesitantly, she knocked on the door to Tina’s room, twisting the knob and peeking her head in without a formal invitation. “Hey, Tina, can I come in?” she asked.

Sitting on her bed, flipping through a fashion magazine, Tina didn’t even glance up. “No, but I guess you’re going to, so knock yourself out.”

Maria slowly stepped inside and closed the door, trying to remember what it had been like to be this young and moody once. “I know this is probably throwing you for a loop right now,” she said, “but--”

“You’re in college,” Tina broke in. “With Michael. So I’m guessing he told you to come talk to me.”

Maria was a bit surprised she knew so much. Apparently Michael had told her a little more than he’d told his mom. “He did,” she acknowledged, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He’s worried about you. So is your mom.”

Tina grunted and tore a picture of Austin Mahone out of the magazine. “My mom’s annoying.”

“My mom is annoying,” Maria corrected. “Yours is amazing.”

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

“Actually, I do,” Maria insisted. “I know exactly what I’m talking about and exactly what you’re going through, because I went through it, too.”

Tina snorted, tossing her magazine aside. “So you’re just the expert on teen pregnancy now?”

“No.” It was ridiculous to think that anyone could be an expert on such a thing. “I just . . . I can relate.”

Tina wrinkled her face in disgust and snarled, “I’m nothing like you.”

The way she said it . . . there was such contempt, as if she resented the comparison. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, please,” Tina scoffed. “You got knocked up by a drug addict. I’m having a baby with a guy that I love.”

Already, Maria felt speechless. Not good considering she was here to deliver some very persuasive speaking. “Look, Tina, I’m not questioning your feelings for him . . .”

“Sure you are,” she interrupted knowingly.

“But I thought Max and I were in love in high school, too. But me being pregnant changed everything. It showed me just how immature and irresponsible he really was.”

“But you still had the baby,” Tina pointed out.

“Right, but I was gonna give him up for adoption.”

“So why didn’t you?”

She sighed, not used to telling this part of her story. “Because Max convinced me not to.” It wasn’t easy to be this open about the past. “He said he was gonna be there for me, but . . .” She blinked back tears, forcing a sad smile. “. . . obviously he wasn’t.”

“Hmm.” Tina narrowed her eyes contemplatively. “Then it’s a good thing Michael was.”

That wasn’t what this was about. “My point is, I should’ve put him up for adoption,” Maria admitted. “I would’ve, if I’d been thinking clearly.”

“Oh my god,” Tina gasped. “Do you hear yourself? You’re basically saying you don’t even love your son.”

Maria stared at her in horror, mortified that something so rude and so hurtful and so wrong was coming out of this girl’s once innocent mouth. “Don’t you dare put words in my mouth,” she warned. “That is not what I’m saying. I love Dylan more than anything, and I love being his mom. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy. I had to give up so much so that I could provide for him. There’s so much I missed out on.”

“But I have Nicholas.” Tina’s smile was a self-satisfied, overly-confident one. “He’s gonna help me.”

Maria was skeptical about that. “Yeah, so he says.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“Tina, I just don’t want you to delude yourself into thinking everything’s gonna be okay and everything’s gonna be easy,” Maria cautioned. “You have options here.”

Tina crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. “No, I’m keeping my baby.”

“I just think that maybe you should think it through.” Maria was starting to grow frustrated, feeling like she was talking to a brick wall.

“You know what?” Tina huffed. “I think you’re exaggerating. Look at you, you’re not struggling. You got to college; you have a life.”

“Because I didn’t give up. But trust me, it is so easy to give up when you’re put in this position. I almost did so many times, but I got lucky because I had people who cared about me and believed in me.”

“Why don’t you just cut to the chase?” Tina barked. “You had Michael.”

As much as Maria didn’t want to talk about him . . . Tina was right. He was the one who had cared and believed most of all. “Yeah, I had him,” she acknowledged. “He was there for me when I needed him most.” She started to get a little choked up remembering that night he’d driven up to her outside of James Winston’s house. She’d felt so lost and disgusted with herself, and he’d just . . . taken care of her. “Tina, you don’t even know how bad it got,” she whimpered shakily. “I lost my job, and my mom kicked me out. Dylan and I were homeless; we slept in the library. I was willing to do crazy, stupid things just to get money. I was so desperate.” She wiped tears away as unwanted memories of that horrible experience crept back in. “If your brother hadn’t come into my life when he did, if he hadn’t saved me . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t even know where I’d be right now.”

Tina was silent for a bit, and Maria hoped it was because she was taking it all in and starting to understand. But no such luck, as seconds later, she was glaring at her accusatorily, demanding, “Then how could you leave him?”

Maria opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“You left him all alone after he did so much for you!” Tina screeched. “And you never even called to see if he was okay!”

She’d thought about it—hell, she’d had some nights where she’d fallen asleep with the phone in her hand. But a clean break had been the only way to go. “Seems like he’s doing fine to me,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, now,” Tina huffed. “But you didn’t see him right after you left. That whole summer, he was so depressed; he barely even came out of his room. He wouldn’t talk to anyone. The only time he ever did anything was when he’d take off on some weekend road trip to try to find you.”

He did that? Maria thought. She didn’t know . . .

“He loved you so much, and you didn’t even care!”

“No.” That just wasn’t right. “I loved him, too.”

“No, you didn’t,” Tina argued vehemently, showing no signs of letting up. “Because you just left! He asked you to marry him, and you showed your appreciation by dumping him. That’s not love.”

It was, though. It had been. Why didn’t people understand that? “Look, if you don’t want me passing judgment on whether or not you love your boyfriend, maybe you shouldn’t pass judgment on whether or not I loved mine,” she advised.

“I’ll pass judgment if I want to,” Tina declared stubbornly, “because I don’t respect you. And I don’t respect what you did.”

Then no wonder you won’t even try to listen to me, Maria thought. If she didn’t have Tina’s respect, giving her advice was going to be nearly impossible. “You know what? This isn’t even about me.”

“Oh, of course it is. It’s all about you. The only reason you came here is so that you’ll feel less guilty.”

That wasn’t the only reason . . . but it was sure part of it. She hadn’t expected Tina to be perceptive enough to pick up on it, though. “What?”

“Oh, come on, you and Michael are both so obvious.” Tina rolled her eyes. “You guys are worried you set a bad example for me. And you know what? You did. I always knew you guys were screwing your brains out. But that’s not why I started having sex. I did it because I wanted to, and I was ready.”

That rounded stomach begged to differ with that claim. “Clearly you weren’t.”

Tina touched her stomach, looking just the slightest bit self-conscious for a moment. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, and her bravado was back. “You know what, Maria? I don’t have to listen to you. You’re just a selfish bitch who never deserved my brother in the first place.”

Even though she hated to sit there and get bullied by a fourteen year old, Maria was so shocked by all of this that she didn’t even know what to say.

“So take your advice and shove it,” Tina said, “because I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t want it.”

Maria swallowed hard, trying to push down all the emotions this conversation was bringing up. “Well, you could really use it.” She rose to her feet and turned to leave.

“Hey,” Tina snapped.

Maria reluctantly turned back around.

“Don’t try to break up Michael and Sarah. They belong together.”

What? Where had that come from? “I’m not--”

“He loves her more than he ever loved you.” Tina gave her a cold, hard stare down. “She’s the one he’s gonna marry now.”

Maria didn’t want to be so affected . . . but it was hard not to be. She had to get out of there before Tina saw just how upset she’d made her.

She managed to hold it in as she left the room, but from the second she shut the door, the tears started to fall. She couldn’t go back downstairs and face Krista like this, so she did what instinct told her to do, and she rushed back into Michael’s bedroom—formerly their bedroom—so she could shed these tears on her own.

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

The day had been exhausting. Completely, utterly draining in a way Maria hadn’t experienced for a while. She was able to say goodbye to Krista and leave her on good terms, at least, but that was it. By the time she got back to Carlsbad, it was already almost 8:00, and all she wanted to do was go to bed early.

Instead of heading straight home, though, she found herself at the Vidorra suites, right outside Michael’s door. She knocked lightly, feeling like she barely had enough strength to raise her arm to the door.

He opened it a few seconds later. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Classic Michael bedroom attire. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she echoed, glancing inside unsurely. “Can I come in?”

It took him a few moments to respond, but he finally said, “Yeah,” and stepped out of the way.

She went inside, careful not to even brush against him at all, and noticed that American Ninja Warrior was on TV, and there was a pile of blankets on the couch, and Shango was in the middle of them. Apparently he and Michael had been vegging.

“Where’s Sarah?” she asked.

“Study group,” he replied, shutting the door. “What’s up?”

She flapped her arms against her sides unenergetically. “I just thought you should know that I went to Roswell to talk to Tina today.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Well, that explains the five missed calls I have from my mom.”

“I thought that you had told her about us.”

“Us?” He gave her a curious look.

“You know, that we’re . . . friends again.” God, why did it always feel so strange to say that word?

“I didn’t tell her anything,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I gathered that much from the astonished look on her face. Tina didn’t seem so surprised, though.”

“No, she knew,” he said, picking the remote control up off the arm of the couch. He pressed the mute button, then asked, “So how’d it go?”

“Well . . . with your mom, it went great.”

“Hmm.” It seemed as if he had expected that. “Would Tina even talk to you?”

“Oh, she talked.” Some of the things that she’d said were going to be hard to forget. “In fact, she was quite chatty.”

“What’d she say?”

She shrugged, deciding it was best not to recount Tina’s tirade about the dissolution of their relationship. “Just more of what you don’t wanna hear.”

“Dammit,” he sighed. “You know what? It’s that little shit Nicholas. This is all his fault.”

“No, it’s hers, too,” Maria corrected. As easy as it was to just blame the boy . . . it took two, and Tina was certainly not innocent. “She’s being stubborn and stupid and rebellious. She’s making bad choices, and she’s gonna have to deal with the consequences.” It startled her to hear how much she sounded like her own mom, but . . . it was true.

“What’d you say to her?” he asked.

“I just tried to advise her to give it up for adoption, tried to explain to her how hard things were for me. But she didn’t wanna hear it.”

Nodding solemnly, he mumbled, “Well, thanks for tryin’.”

She grunted, not sure if her efforts today even deserved any thanks. “I probably did more harm than good.”

“No, you didn’t,” he assured her. “Thanks.”

She let out a heavy breath, reluctantly accepting his gratitude. She turned to leave, but he stopped her with a question.

“Was this your first time bein’ back in Roswell?”

Maybe if it hadn’t have been, today would have been easier. “Yeah,” she replied.

“Did you drive around town?”

“Yeah. I even had lunch at the Crashdown.”

He grinned. “Tip your waitress?”

“Well, it was Agnes.”

“Oh, so no then,” he recognized. Pausing a moment, he quietly asked, “Were you in my house when you and Tina . . .”

She inhaled shakily, not sure how he would feel about this. “Yeah.”

Another pause. Another question. “Did it bring back memories?”

Well, her head was still spinning, and she could still hear ‘Unchained Melody’ playing in her mind. So . . . “Lots,” she confessed.

He locked eyes with her and didn’t say anything, but there was a knowing look on his face and the hints of a smile at the corners of his mouth. And that was all the response she needed to feel a little bit better and a little less exhausted. After all, it was nice to know that being there brought back memories for him, too.

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

I need. To go. To bed, Maria thought as she staggered through the door that night. Even though her talk with Michael had left her feeling marginally better, she still pretty much felt like crap. The whole day had been one miserable failure.

Max was sitting in the living room, the only light illuminating his face coming from the TV. Dylan wasn’t up and about, so that probably meant he’d gone to sleep early tonight, too. A small miracle.

“Hey,” she said, tossing her purse down at the door.

“Hey,” he returned, lowering the volume on the TV. “So how’d it go today?”

“Fine.” She took off her shoes, then yawned. “I’m tired.”

“Long day, huh?”

“Very.” She made her way over to him and sat down on the arm of the couch, absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair. Maybe he’d be able to make her feel better. Although . . . it didn’t seem likely. He wasn’t even looking up at her, and he didn’t reach up to touch her at all. “Are you okay?” she asked, sensing that something was off.

“Not really,” he muttered, turning off the TV altogether. It became completely dark in the living room. “You wanna tell me where you were today?”

What? Why was he asking that? Did he know something? Playing dumb, she asked, “What do you mean?”

He reached over and flipped on the lamp, squinting against the sudden brightness. “Your mom called this afternoon,” he informed her. “She wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving plans, but she couldn’t reach you, so she just called me.”

Maria’s stomach tightened. Oh . . . crap. Of all the days for her mother to call her boyfriend, this was not the day.

“Where were you, Maria?” he asked forcefully, but not aggressively. “You weren’t with her.”

She got up off the arm of the couch and paced around a bit, hating herself for not just being honest in the first place. “I did go back to Roswell,” she said, swallowing her anxiety as she revealed, “I went to see Michael’s family.”

Max frowned in confusion. “Why?”

She sighed, not sure if it was really her place to say. But she had no choice; she had to tell him the truth. “His little sister is pregnant.”

Max’s eyes bulged. “Isn’t she really young?”

“Yeah, even younger than I was.” She squeezed in between him and the arm of the couch, staying very close to him even when he tried to scoot away. “She’s in the eighth grade.”

“My god,” he said.

“I know. And she has it in her head that she and her boyfriend are just gonna raise this baby and everything’s gonna be fine, but . . .” There was definitely something to be said for realism, and Tina didn’t have any of it. “She’s not even thinking.”

Max nodded as he took everything in. “So you went to see her.”

“And talk to her, yeah. I thought it might be a good idea.” For now, there was no need to reveal that Michael had been the one to plant the idea in her head. Some things were better left unsaid.

“Was it?” he asked. “Was it a good idea?”

She sighed, defeated. “No. She hates me. But I tried. I just had to try something.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I just thought that . . .” She wasn’t even sure of the answer herself, so it was hard to explain. “I wasn’t sure if you would understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because . . . the things that I was telling her about . . .” She kept stopping and starting over, trying to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t offend or upset him. “I was telling her about us, Max, our past. I was trying to stop our past from becoming her future.”

“I understand,” he said calmly. “I was a jerk back then. We were a cautionary tale.”

“I just . . . I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

“The only thing that hurts my feelings is that you lied to me,” he told her. “Again.”

She nodded, accepting the harsh truth of that. She had lied. She’d been lying too much lately. “You’re right,” she acknowledged. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

“Just tell me the truth,” he said, getting to his feet. “That’s all I ask.”

That wasn’t asking for much. She could give that to him. For sure.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” he announced, and without so much as a kiss goodnight, he headed down the hall. But she supposed she didn’t deserve one anyway. What she probably deserved was to sleep out on the couch, but he wouldn’t make her do that.

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

The phone calls from his mom kept calling, so Michael gave in and called her back a short time after Maria left. He was actually a little bit wary of what she might say, but once they started talking, it was fine.

“I was just surprised to see her is all,” his mom said. “A little forewarning would’ve been nice.”

“I didn’t know she was gonna do that today,” he said, moving the phone away for a moment as he peeled off his shirt. “I didn’t know she was gonna do it at all.”

“I guess I just never even imagined that she was . . . back in your life.”

“We’re just friends,” he assured her, not sure why he felt the need to assure her of that. He lay down on the bed, adding, “It’s not like we’re . . .”

“I know,” she said, “but . . . Michael, do you know what you’re doing here? This sounds complicated.”

“It’s fine,” he promised. Now that Sarah knew about all of this, it wasn’t all that complicated anymore. Sarah: girlfriend. Maria: ex-girlfriend. Sort of current friend. Whatever.

“Well, I didn’t mind seeing her again,” his mom went on. “Tina was pretty awful to her, though. I felt so horrible and embarrassed.”

“Yeah, Maria said it was pretty rough.”

“So—so you talked to her?” his mom sputtered. “On the phone, or--”

“No, she came by.”

His mom sighed audibly. “Okay.”

“What? I told you, we’re tryin’ to be friends.”

“Trying to be,” she echoed.

“Mom . . .” He knew what she was thinking, and it wasn’t like that.

“Just make sure you have some very clear boundaries set in place,” she advised. “I know Sarah’s understanding, but still . . .”

Just as she said that, Sarah came home, exclaiming, “Boyfriend!” excitedly.

“Mom, I gotta go,” he said. “Talk to you later.”

“Oh, okay. Bye.”

“Bye.” He ended the call and tossed his phone aside on the mattress, then sat up.

“Ooh, you look so good!” she squealed, jumping onto the bed. She moved in behind him, wrapped her arms around his midsection, and kissed the side of his neck. Girl was feeling frisky.

“You have a good day?” he asked.

“Yeah. All that studying was good for my brain. But now, I think my body . . .” She leaned back so she could pull her shirt over her head. “. . . needs some attention.” She snuggled up behind him again, and he got a rush feeling her breasts against his back.

“I can give that to you,” he proclaimed, swiveling around so that he could take her into his arms, kiss her, and fall back onto the bed with her. Sure, she still had her damn period, but there was plenty of other fun stuff they could do.

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

What am I trying to say here? Maria fretted as she hurriedly scribbled a couple sentences at the end of her short-answer essay. Hers was turning out to be not so short—she was having to scrunch up all her writing at the bottom of the page—because she was just rambling on and on without really saying anything of substance.

“Time,” the professor declared. “Pencils down.”

Beside her, Michael was able to put her pencil down right away, but Maria wasn’t done yet, so she erased something, then wrote something, then crossed it out, then just gave up on it altogether and slammed her pencil down.

“Turn your tests in,” the professor instructed. “You’re dismissed.”

“God, that sucked,” she groaned.

“I thought it was easy,” Michael remarked.

“Lucky you.” She handed her test to the TA, who was collecting them all starting at the back of the room.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” the TA said.

Michael handed his to him as well and then asked, “Why do you think it sucked?”

“Because I didn’t know any of the answers. I drew a blank.”

He grinned. “I knew ‘em all.”

“Oh, well, good for you.” In that moment, she wanted to rip his damn head off. “You aced it.”

“I hope so,” he muttered, packing up his backpack. “I studied my ass off this weekend.”

“I didn’t have time,” she lamented. “And I hardly got any sleep last night, so half the stuff I wrote probably didn’t even make sense.” This was how it had always been for her. She just wasn’t a good student. Average was about as good as she could hope to get.

“Why didn’t you get any sleep?” he inquired.

She rubbed her temples to ease the dull headache that had been persisting all morning. “Because, I was just, like, thinking about things.”

“Tina?” he guessed.

That was definitely the root of it, but it went further than that. “Yeah, kinda.”

He zipped up his backpack, but instead of getting up and swinging it over his shoulders, he stayed sitting, even angling himself to face her. “What’d she say?”

She shook her head, not wanting to rehash it. “It wasn’t just what she said; it was how she said it. She was just so mad.”

“At you?”

“Yeah.” Around them, everyone else was leaving now, so she waited until most of them were gone to keep going. “Which I kind of expected, because last time she saw me, she hated me. So I guess she still hates me.”

“What’d she say?” he asked again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Just tell me.”

“No, it’s--”

“Hey,” the professor interrupted. Up at the front of the auditorium, he and his TA were already packed up and ready to leave. “You two comin’?”

“Yes,” Maria said.

But Michael had a different idea. “No, can we just stay here for a minute?”

“Just hit the lights on your way out,” the professor said, and with those horrible tests peeking out of the folder in his hand, he and his TA left. And then it was just the two of them in that big, unusually quiet lecture hall.

“So are you gonna tell me?” Michael continued to press.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t matter. I feel stupid. I feel stupid for getting worked up over something a teenager said.”

This time, he didn’t tell her to tell him. He just locked eyes with her, looking at her expectantly. And she had a feeling he was going to keep looking at her like that until she spilled.

“Okay, fine,” she relented, “she—she basically accused me of being a horrible person when I left Roswell. She said I never deserved you, and I was just a selfish bitch and--”

“She said that?” he cut in.

“Yes. And she said that you did so much for me, but I didn’t really love you because I left you. And a bunch of other stuff.”

He frowned, quiet for a moment until he agreed, “She shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know. But I guess I just can’t help but feel like, or . . . wonder if . . .” She rolled her eyes at her own insecurity in that moment, feeling pathetic. “. . . maybe you agree with her.”

He made a face. “What would I agree with?”

“Do you think I’m selfish?”

“No.”

“Do you think I’m a bitch?”

“Only sometimes.” He smirked, but added, “Kidding,” when she gave him a warning look. “Mostly.”

“Well, do you think . . .” She actually started to feel a little choked up when she asked the question she was really dreading hearing the answer to. “Do you think I didn’t love you?”

He averted his eyes, hesitating, and that made her worry that he was going to agree with Tina. But when he reassured her, “No, I know you loved me,” it made her feel better.

“Really?” Because she truly had, and she didn’t want anyone to be under the impression that she hadn’t. Most of all him.

“Of course,” he said. “I mean . . . come on, that’s not even a question.”

“Well, Tina questioned it,” she pointed out. But that was fine. As long as Michael knew the truth, she supposed that was all that mattered.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know you loved me. It just wasn’t enough.”

Her brows furrowed, not liking the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you did leave,” he reminded her.

“Because I didn’t wanna hold you back in life.” That hadn’t been a spontaneous decision at all; she’d had valid, well thought-out reasons.

“How do you know you would’ve held me back?” he countered.

“I just—I didn’t wanna take the chance.”

“Right, so . . .” He shrugged, as though she were magically supposed to understand what he was saying.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just . . .” He gave her a matter of fact look. “Okay, let’s face it: You did love me, but . . . I loved you more.”

She was so stunned to hear him say that that all she could get out was a single astonished, “What?”

“I mean, it’s obvious.”

What was obvious? She didn’t understand. “What’re you talking about? You loved me more? What is that?”

“I did,” he insisted. “Look, maybe you were just lookin’ out for me, but . . . where my head was at and where my heart was at, I couldn’t have left you. Not ever.”

Oh my god. As much as her heart had broken two years ago, it felt like it was breaking all over again, but for a whole new reason this time. “So you automatically think that means I didn’t love you as much as you loved me.”

“Well, yeah,” he replied nonchalantly.

She shook her head and grunted incredulously, blown away by this. “Unbelievable.”

“What, you don’t agree?”

“No, clearly I don’t,” she said, on the verge of tears. “I think we loved each other equally, and it’s really insulting for you to say otherwise.”

“Insulting?” he resounded. “It’s a compliment.”

“How is that a compliment?”

“Because I had so many feelings for you. ‘cause it was so strong for me.”

There was nothing wrong with that, but insinuating that it hadn’t been as strong for her . . . that just wasn’t right. “I can’t believe . . .” Relinquishing what little willpower she had left, she started to cry, not heavily, but enough that she couldn’t disguise it. “I mean, Tina I can see, but you of all people?” Didn’t he know that no one else’s opinion about this even mattered to her? That she just needed him to understand? “Oh my god, how can you not know?” she cried dramatically. “How can you not know how much I loved you?”

He was quiet, clearly taken aback, and he surprised the hell out of her when he reached out for her. “Maria . . .”

“No, I’m done with this,” she decided, shooting to her feet. She grabbed her purse, sniffed back the tears that just wouldn’t stop, and muttered, “I’m just gonna leave. Apparently that’s a really easy thing for me to do.” Unable to get out of there fast enough, she practically ran, leaving him sitting alone in there, as stunned as she was but nowhere near as emotional.

She hoped he wouldn’t follow her, and thankfully, he didn’t.








TBC . . .

-April

[keepsmiling7]

Well Amy let the cat out of the bag.......now Max knows the truth about Maria's trip.
To say he was disappointed she lied is an understatement.
I wonder how much longer they will be together??
Maria's meeting with Tina didn't go well at all.......matter of fact she has no respect for Maria.
Of course Maria ran to Michael......what will he do in the future???
Thanks,
Carolyn

[sarammlover]

Wow...Tina is ANGRY. Really angry. I think Maria going to see her was the right thing but man...ow. I also think Maria and Michael will never truly be friends until they hash out everything they went through and their feelings. They are still skirting around it but I think this last talk was really honest and it amazes me that they are just now talking about it.