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

[April]

nibbles: lol, I'm hurrying up! I wanted to get a new one out this morning, but my extreme laziness prevented me from doing that.
Krista: Yeah, I think it's safe to say that Max is getting a little competative when it comes to Maria. He's competing against Michael, who, let's face it, doesn't even know that he's competing. I hope your computer gets un-broken, by the way.
pookie76:

Poor girl...she needs a good friend now.

Well, luckily she has one.
lilah: Yeah, Max has unintentionally really messed up. And that's not something he's used to.
Sara: Max certainly didn't mean to screw Maria up, although he probably did cause her to lose some of her concentration.
killjoy: lol, you always give us the male perspective of things. I like it.
Christina:

Now, seeing that Maria is a person of passion, I wonder if she'll blame herself for f-ing up the dance routine or blame Max for showing up the way he did?

No, Maria would never blame Max for that. She's learning to hold herself accountable for her own actions/mistakes.
tequathisy:

It will be interesting to see how Maria handles this set back as it will be a mark of how much (if any) she's grown and matured in the last few months.

Yep. She should definitely be sad about it, but she basically has two options: be mature, accept the fact that she messed up, and look for other opportunities, or whine and cry about it and get too discouraged to look for other opportunities.
mrs_guerin:

but ive never been one to 'fall hard' and let a relationship take over my life as i think max and Liz have in this fic.

That's probably a good thing. Max and Liz are both in very unhealthy relationships, and maybe they're slowly realizing it. Or maybe not. It's hard to say.
Mercedes:

I get the sense that Max and Maria's "relationship" is truly entering the shit hitting the fan stages right about now

Possibly. I can't really say too much.
mariadac:

Maria could've just broken up with him.

She could have. Or she could have just never started dating him in the first place. She had made a lot of mistakes.
Vael:

Maria fucked herself, Max fucked himself & they're both fools for making something so big out of so little.

True. In fact, why stop there? Liz has fucked herself, too. They're each on that dreaded path of destruction, and it's not good.
Alien_Friend:

I can't wait for you to get back here and fix this. I wasn't excepting it to be so sad.

Well, this part should be a LOT less sad. A lot.
spacegirl23:

I hope Maria is okay, and I hope Michael gets to comfort our fave girl.

Oh, trust me, he will.


GOOD NEWS! Now that I have started a new class and my schedule is semi-different, you can usually expect updates to be three times a week instead of two times a week like they have been lately. Yea?



Oh, and you guys are all getting a glimpse of my music obsession, because I'm including another song in this part. "Wonderwall" by Oasis. I just couldn't pass it up. The lyrics were too fitting. Find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7UnmoTK9bQ&fmt=18









Part 81









Michael watched as Maria hopped out of the car and hobbled towards the house. She couldn’t put any weight on her left foot because of her ankle injury. The medic at the auditions had checked her out and told her it was a sprain, nothing too serious, and that the best treatment was the R.I.C.E plan: rest, ice, compression, and elevation. He’d given her an ace bandage wrap and anti-inflammatory medicine to reduce the swelling and decrease the pain. She still looked unhappy, though.

Kyle opened the front door for Maria, and she limped inside, grabbing on to furniture to help support herself. “Want some help?” Kyle asked.

“No, I’m fine,” she answered stubbornly, heading for the hallway.

“Want some company?” Max asked.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Want some ice cream?” Michael tried. He knew Maria. She liked food, especially when she was upset.

She stopped, turned her head slightly to the side, and muttered, “Yes,” before limping into her room.

Michael, Kyle, and Max all sighed. They hated seeing Maria like this, so they all headed into the kitchen to get her what she wanted.

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

Fifteen minutes later, Michael walked into Maria’s bedroom with a bowl of ice cream in his hand. It had taken him awhile to thaw it out with their crappy microwave—it’d been like solid ice. But he’d even gone so far as to drizzle some chocolate syrup on it, add in some sprinkles and M+Ms, and put a cherry on top. Spoiling Maria was . . . really too easy.

He thought maybe she might smile when she saw it, but she just reached her hands up and said, “Gimme.”

He set the bowl in her hands, surveying the set-up she had going on. She was in her pajamas in her bed, her left leg outstretched in front of her, her sprained ankle elevated on two pillows. She had her laptop computer open and sitting on the desk directly in front of her, playing a movie of some sort. She looked transfixed on it.

“Maria, what’re you doin’?” he asked her, going to look at the DVDs she had stacked next to the computer. “Save the Last Dance? Step Up? Center Stage? What is this, a dance movie marathon?”

“What, you got a problem with that?”

“No.” She was pissed. Definitely.

“I just started Take the Lead,” she told him, still staring at her computer screen. “It’s about ballroom dancing. I don’t know how to ballroom dance, but . . . I could learn. If I had a good ankle.”

“You have good ankles,” Michael told her. “Hot ankles.”

“Oh, yeah, huge and purple. It’s real hot.”

He took a look at the size of the swollen joint and glimpsed a bit of the purple flesh above the top of her wrap and agreed, “That is pretty gross.”

“Shut up. Your face is grosser,” she snapped.

“Maria, don’t lie. It’s the best face ever.”

“Could you not talk?” She pointed to the computer, then back to herself, saying, “Movie. Me. Watchy.”

He sighed and said, “It’s not impossible, you know.”

“What?”

“You could still get a job there. You did really well. That dance . . .”

“Michael, I fell!” she reminded him loudly.

“But that wasn’t your fault. You sprained your ankle.”

“That’s not the point! I . . . I just sat there! For like ten seconds! I fell and I-I didn’t get up. And when I finally did, I completely forgot what I was doing. For the first time in my life, I lost all confidence in myself. And I did the worst thing I could possibly do, I did the one thing I told all the girls on the dance team to never do. I ran away; I quit. I . . .” She looked down at the blankets wrapped around her and whispered, “I can’t believe I messed up.”

Michael sighed. It was true that Maria was just about as close to being a perfect dancer as anyone could get. He’d never seen her mess up before. Until tonight.

“Alright, move over,” he said, settling in beside her in the bed.

“What’re you doing?”

“Dance movie marathon. What’s it look like?” He gestured toward the computer screen and asked, “What’s going on here?”

After a moment’s pause, she returned her gaze to the screen and said, “Well, right now these kids are being jerks to Antonio Banderas, but little do they know, he’s gonna teach ‘em ballroom dancing, and they’re all gonna be super thrilled.”

“Huh, interesting,” Michael said sarcastically. “Another one of those unpredictable dance movie plots. Love those.”

“Shut up,” she said. “You either watch the movie or start on your own.”

Actually, that had been his plan, film Maria amidst an I’m-now-an-MDA-dancer celebration that night. But since she wasn’t celebrating, he couldn’t film. “I’m watchin’,” he said, lying down in the bed.

“And it’s Center Stage next, so be prepared, buddy.”

“Okay.” He hated these movies. He really did. But if he had to stay up all night watching every dance movie Maria owned with her to make her feel just a little bit better . . . he’d do it.

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

Max sat at the kitchen table, revising his valedictorian speech that night, trying not to think about the various horrible events of the evening, when the telephone rang. He got up and walked over to answer it, hoping it was Tess or Isabel or Alex and not somebody from the Modern Dance Association.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Alicia from the Modern Dance Association. Is Maria there?”

Max cringed. He had a feeling this was not going to be good news. “Yeah, one minute.” He set the phone down and headed down the hallway to his girlfriend’s bedroom. “Maria?” he said quietly, pushing open the door. He found her and Michael in bed together. Not together, but . . . they were watching a movie.

“MDA’s calling, huh?” she guessed.

“Yeah. Alicia.”

“Ooh, the big kahuna’s lettin’ me down, huh?” She carefully lowered her legs and crawled out of bed. “Pause the movie, Michael,” she said as she hobbled out into the hallway and living room.

Michael smiled and Max and said, ”Center Stage.”

“Oh, really, I love that movie,” Max joked. He peered out into the living room and watched Maria on the phone. He couldn’t hear what Alicia was saying, but it was all evident by the look on Maria’s face. He saw the look of hopefulness for a minute, and then the utter disappointment. He heard her say, “It’s okay. I understand,” and then watched as she sullenly hung up the phone.

Max walked out into the living room and asked, “No?” even though he knew the answer.

“Tons of no,” she answered, hobbling over to the couch. She leaned back against it, taking all the weight off her sprained ankle. “I didn’t actually think I’d get a yes,” she said. “I sucked today.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry I was . . . not there. I tried . . .”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You saw the climatic part, the big biff-it.”

“I’m sure you were amazing.”

“Yeah, amazingly over-confident. And then amazingly bad. But . . .” She shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He nodded, accepting that. “Okay.”

“What about you?” she asked. “How’d your final go? Did you ace it?”

“Uh . . .” He thought back, back to the randomness of his answers. Ace. That had been one of the words he’d spelled out randomly on his bubble sheet. But he couldn’t possibly have aced it the way he aced everything else. He didn’t want Maria to know that she was the reason why he’d probably done poorly, though, so he lied and nodded. “Yeah. That went fine.”

“Good,” she said. “That would’ve really sucked if we both screwed up today.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t know what to do, so he just kept nodding. If only she knew what she was saying . . .

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

Liz considered her dorm room to be little more than a prison cell. Small. Cold. Not at all fun. And she did, in some respects, feel like a prisoner there. Because as long as she wasn’t doing anything with her boyfriend, she really didn’t have anything better to do than sit there alone and wait for him to call. He rarely called. And as for friends . . . she was beginning to see that she actually didn’t have a lot of friends. Not the real kind, anyway. There was a definite difference between being popular and having friends. Maria hadn’t told her about that when they’d begun her transformation from nerd to valley-girl three months ago.

She sighed as she flipped through an old photo album then captured the majority of her high school days. College was turning out to be . . . sort of great. And sort of horrible. She didn’t know who she was anymore. And as she lay there, looking at old photographs of herself, all she could do was remember who she used to be.

She smiled when she saw a picture of herself at the tenth grade science fair with a dorky smile on her face and a blue ribbon in her hand. She remembered that day, how happy she’d been that all her hard work had paid off.

On the next page was a picture of her in her candy-striper uniform during the summer she’d volunteered at the hospital. It had been work for no pay, but it had been one of the most rewarding experiences of her life, an experience that led her to want to become a nurse. But now she never even thought about her future, her career, her dreams. She just thought about . . . Michael.

Rolling over onto her back, Liz whipped out her cell phone and dialed Michael’s number. If she was going to be thinking about him, it would be nice to actually be near him. She hadn’t heard from him all day.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” she said quietly as she traced her fingers over the comforter on her bed.

“Hey.”

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, hoping that he would be doing nothing and want to come spend some time with her.

“Nothin’ much. Just watchin’ some stupid movie.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s Save the Last Dance,” Liz heard Maria snap.

“With Maria,” Michael added. “We’re havin’ a movie night.”

“Oh.” Liz frowned. Why were Michael and Maria having a movie night together right after she and Max had had one the other night? Wasn’t there something strange about that? Weren’t the couples sort of . . . mixed up?

Liz lay there and listened as Michael said something to Maria about the movie. “This is stupid. Who cares if he’s black and she’s white? I’ve had sex with lots of black girls.”

“Michael,” Liz said, needing to remind him that she was still there.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “This movie . . .”

“Is the best,” Maria said.

“Sucks.”

“You suck.”

“Michael!” Liz said again, a little louder this time. She was getting impatient. “Um . . . you know, I’m not doing anything spectacular tonight. Maybe you could come over and we could go out somewhere. Or . . . we could just stay in.” She smiled. That had to do it. Michael loved sex, plain and simple.

“Oh, uh . . .” After a moment’s pause, Michael lowered his voice and said, “You know, Maria had kind of a rough day. I was kinda thinking I might just . . . stay home here, you know, and . . .” He trailed off.

Invite me over, Liz thought pleadingly. Please.

“Maybe tomorrow night?” he suggested.

She felt her heart drop. Once again, he was choosing Maria over her. It happened all the time. She went back and forth debating whether or not it was because of some romantic feelings or because of some lasting friendship, but she just didn’t know. The one thing she did know was that . . . she wasn’t completely happy. But she was completely confused.

“Is that alright?” he asked.

“Sure,” she lied. “Tomorrow night.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later.” She knew quite well that, unless she called him, he would probably forget to call, maybe even forget to take her out somewhere. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy; he was just . . . distracted.

“Bye.”

Before she could even say goodbye in return, he had hung up. She sighed and closed her phone, reaching over to lay her hand atop the photo album. I guess it’s just you and me tonight, she thought, gazing longingly at the pictures. God, she thought as she looked at a picture of herself holding her high school diploma and valedictorian medal in the air. That girl wasn’t the most popular, but she was smart. She knew who she was. She liked who she was. Most of the time, anyway.

In that moment, Liz decided to not sit around and be mopey. She was going to channel her frustrated emotions and get something done, be productive. She hopped down off her bed and went over to her desk. She opened her bottom drawer and pulled out a 500-page biology book that she hadn’t opened for months. She hadn’t studied for a long time, because she’d been afraid that it was un-cool. But she was alone. No one was there. And even if someone was there, what did it matter? College wasn’t just about letting loose and going crazy. The main point of college was to go to class, do homework, get good grades, and get a degree.

She opened up the book and smiled. The skeletal system. Yes! she thought, feeling the familiar rush of excitement she used to when learning about something she enjoyed. She was going to read about that, then the digestive system, then the endocrine system, then . . .

Before she could even read one word, there was a knock on her door. She closed the book and stashed it away again in her bottom desk drawer, then got up and went to open the door. A bunch of the girls on her floor were standing on the other side with tequila bottles.

“Hey, girl!” one of them shouted as she pushed her way into the room. “Mind if we hang out here?”

“Um . . .”

The rest of the girls all barged in, too, not one of them asking if she might have been in the middle of something.

“We wanna get drunk and here your latest about your latest sexcapades with Michael.”

“Oh.” That came as no big surprise. Liz reluctantly shut the door to her room and sat down for massive girl-time. Biology would have to wait. Again.

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

Maria woke up the next day and immediately thought about her ankle. She’d lain with it in the same position all night, not moving it. Now her entire foot felt as though it were asleep, that whole pins and needles feeling.

She got out of bed carefully, making sure not to put any weight on her left foot, and hopped into the bathroom. She leaned against the counter as she brushed her teeth, then had to sit down on the toilet seat in order to get undressed. Just the brush of her pajama pants against her swollen ankle hurt. She wanted it to start feeling better fast. This sprained ankle business was no fun.

She grabbed onto the sink and managed to pull herself up onto her feet, then hopped into the shower. She slid the door shut, turned on the warm water, and stood beneath the torrent on one leg. There was only one small ledge, not large enough for her to rest her ankle on. In addition, she had to make sure to brace herself against the shower wall with one hand, because there was nothing else to hold onto and the shower was slippery. No mat or anything.

As she stood there, running shampoo through her hair and trying to balance, she started having flashbacks to her performance.

One turn. Two. Three. Four. Five turns. Six. Seven . . . slip.

She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to dwell on it. But how could she not?

Slip. Stand. Run. Cry.

She sighed heavily, not happy with herself. Her right ankle was hurting a little from bearing all her weight, so she decided to try to set her left foot down and just put a little weight on it. Not a lot. Hardly anything at all. But the moment she attempted to, she realized what a mistake it was. Her ankle immediately gave out and twisted to the side, causing her to slip and fall again.

“Ah!” she cried as the pain in her ankle flared. She bent her knee and brought her ankle closer to her, holding her hand against it to try to stop the throbbing, but that didn’t help. Tears leaked over and mingled with the water running down her face, and she waited for the pain to go away. But it didn’t. And she kept crying.

“Today is gonna be the day
That they’re gonna throw it back to you
By now you should’ve somehow
Realized what you gotta do.”

“Maria?”

She heard Michael open the door and choked out, “Go away.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but he didn’t seem to believe her, because he slid open the door to see for himself.

“Michael!” She tried to cover up her breasts and other parts with her arms, but what was the use? He’d seen her naked before. He didn’t care. She gave in and asked, “Can you help me up?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He literally climbed into the shower with her, put one arm around her waist, hooked the other under her knees, and lifted her up.

“I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now . . .”

“Thanks,” she said, unable to stop the tears as they flowed from her eyes. She motioned for him to set her down on her own two feet—or one foot in her case, and he reluctantly did.

“You okay?” he asked her again.

She nodded holding onto his shoulders for support. He was getting soaked standing in there with her. His clothes, his hair . . .

“Backbeat the word is on the street
That the fire in your heart is out
I’m sure you’ve heard it all before
But you never really had a doubt.”

“What happened?” he asked, bending his head to look at her.

She took in a shaky breath and said, “I was just . . . stupid and tried to . . . stand on my ankle, but it twisted and I fell and I feel really stupid.”

“You are really stupid, Maria,” he joked. “That’s okay. So am I.”

She laughed a little despite how crappy she was feeling about everything and clutched his wet shirt in her hands, pulling him closer so that she could rest her cheek against his chest. That felt so much better . . .

“I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now . . .”

As she stood there with him, shaken up, beneath the pouring water, she noticed that the pain in her ankle began to subside, began to fade. Soon enough, she couldn’t feel it anymore. But she could definitely feel his warm, big hands on her arms, holding up upright. It wasn’t until he brought one hand down to rest in the small of her back and murmured, “I’ll help you, alright? Just hold onto me,” that she realized how . . . inappropriate this was. She was naked, and this was generally classified as romantic.

“And all the road we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding.”

“Michael,” she said, pulling back from him just slightly, just enough to look up into his eyes. “Maybe this is something Max should do.” But it wasn’t something she wanted Max to do. She didn’t want Michael to go anywhere. Ever.

He stared right back down at her and said, “He left early.”

“There are many things that I
Would like to say to you
But I don’t know how . . .”

She gasped a little as he smoothed his hand up her back, over her spine, fanning out his fingers as he did so. She hoped he didn’t notice, but his touch was almost too much for her to handle. It was surprising, because it was gentle. It was a gentle touch.

He was gentle.

“Because maybe
You’re gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You’re my wonderwall.”

She lowered her head, not wanting him to see the look on her face. He reached behind her to grab a sponge and shower gel. He kept her encircled in his arms. There was no way she was falling.

He squirted shower gel on the sponge, then set the gel back down on the small ledge he had gotten it from and pressed the sponge against her back, right in between her shoulder blades. She closed her eyes as the water trickled down her spine. It was an ordinary sensation, but with Michael there with her, it was extraordinary.

He placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her face to look up at him. She could have sworn the expression in his eyes as he gazed down at her would turn her to liquid.

“Today was gonna be the day
But they’ll never throw it back to you
By now you should’ve somehow
Realized what you’re not to do.”

He brought the sponge forward to trace up and down each of her arms. She balled his shirt even tighter in her fists as he did so. She never wanted to let him go.

He was incredible.

“I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now . . .”

With one hand holding her hip, he lowered the sponge in between the two of them, though there wasn’t much space, and pressed it to her cleavage, squeezing out water there as well. She glanced down and watched the water cascade down her skin. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold.

“And all the roads that lead to you were winding
And all the lights that lead the way are blinding.”

He lowered his hand even more, pressing the sponge to her stomach, rubbing it in small circles around her bellybutton. Her abdominal muscles quivered instinctively.

“Michael,” she whispered, saying his name only for the sake of saying it.

“There are many things that I
Would like to say to you but I don’t know how . . .”

He dropped the sponge, then, onto the floor, and took a step closer to her, if that were even possible. There was no space between them. Not an inch. She couldn’t imagine anything better.

She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes. She had never felt anything like this in her entire life. Ever.

“I said maybe
You’re gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You’re my wonderwall.”

He brought one hand up to tangle in her hair and lifted her up off her foot for a moment to maneuver her even more directly under the water. He massaged her scalp as the water rained down and worked the shampoo out of her hair.

His other hand, resting atop her right hip, massaged her skin. Probably unconsciously, he made small circles with his thumb there, thrilling her with the simple touch.

She released his shirt from her fingers and draped her arms over his shoulders instead, hugging him, holding onto him for dear life. This was much better than holding onto the shower walls.

“I said maybe (I said maybe)
You’re gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You’re my wonderwall.”

He was soaking wet, but he didn’t seem to mind. Good. She didn’t want him going anywhere. In that moment, as cheesy as it sounded, she never wanted to leave the shower, never wanted to leave the strength and security of his arms.

She’d never . . . felt like this before, never felt so . . . perfect. She’d been with many men, had a lot of sex, but nothing came close to this. And nothing ever would. She couldn’t believe she felt the way she did. Part of her didn’t want to believe. But there was no denying it. No denying it.

“I said maybe (I said maybe)
You’re gonna be the one that saves me (that saves me)”

Michael Guerin could be sweet. It was one of his many layers.

“You’re gonna be the one that saves me (that saves me)”

Who would have known that?

“You’re gonna be the one that saves me (that saves me . . .)”

She couldn’t even remember the pain in her ankle now.










TBC . . .

-April

[April]

pookie76:

She still didn't realize that she could have had a friendship with Maria if she had treated her right.

That’s true. You’ll have to wait and see if she ever comes to that realization.
nibbles:

If Maria continues to string Max along after what happened and if Michael can go back to Liz after that then I really have to wonder if they really want to be together.

They definitely do really want to be together, but they’re so afraid to take that step. Also, Michael is still getting there. He hasn’t quite fully realized the extent of his feelings yet. Not to mention the fact that neither one of them wants to hurt their “significant” other by dumping them. They’re getting themselves into a very sticky situation, stickier than it has been, anyway.
Sara:

I think once everyone truly says what is on their minds things will start to look up for everyone.

Yep! Alex said exactly what was on his mind, and things definitely started to look up for him!
Vael: You won’t be strung along for too much longer. The kiss is coming up in less than 100 pages.
Alien_Friend:

I'm thinking she and Michael are starting to drift farther and farther apart.

Oh, yeah, and that’s pretty bad because they were never that close to begin with.
Krista:

I can still only hate Max and Liz. I don't understand people who feel the need to drastically change themselves for someone else.

Hey, that’s okay if you hate them! In fact, it’s okay if you never like them again in the story. I designed those characters to be kind of controversial in the fact that, like you said, they’re drastically changing themselves to be with someone else.
mariadac: I’m glad you liked the song and the chapter!
tequathisy:

Poor Liz. So close to escaping and then dragged back down again by girls even sadder than she is.

It’s kind of like a gang, isn’t it? Once you get in, it’s hard to get out.
mrs_guerin:

Cannot wait for more M&M, Are we going to get to see them together much in the fic, like will be end with them just getting together, or will they get together and explore the relationship before the end?

Well, I can’t really say too much, or I’ll ruin the story, but rest assured that it doesn’t end with them kissing for the first time or anything like that. You’ll just have to wait and see.
Tine:

and last of all that shower scene in which helping her probably wasn't a sacrifice at all but if they just go back to their usual routine after that I'm not sure if there'll be enough reason to explain that away this time.

Yes, Michael and Maria’s relationship is quickly (well, not quickly, but rather gradually) progressing to a place where they are running out of excuses. (Oh, by the way, I agree with you, exams are EVIL! I hope you did well, though.)
spacegirl23: lol, okay, should I re-write that scene to include you in the shower as well?
Christina:

And both yay and boo to Michael and Maria's shower scene. Yay because we all want to see them together, but boo because I'd consider that cheating...

The shower scene was kind of a grey area, but personally, I would consider that to be cheating, too, since Michael easily could have just helped her back up onto her feet and left the room. As for when Max and Liz are going to see the whipped cream contest footage . . . they’re not. Michael and Maria are getting away with that one like they get away with so much else.










Part 82








Max was at his biology professor’s office that morning before his professor was. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night. He’d been too busy thinking about that final exam . . .

“Professor Howard,” he said when his professor rounded the corner.

“Good morning, Max,” Professor Howard greeted. “Let me guess, letter of recommendation?”

“Uh, no, actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about my final.”

“Finals aren’t graded yet, Max,” the professor said as he unlocked the door to his office. “I’ll send out an email when they are.”

Max followed his professor into the office and said, “Actually, I, uh . . . I kinda . . . did really bad on it. I think. I know.” He was flustered, nervous. He’d never actually had to try to reconcile a bad grade before. “Look, I’m not a dumb guy, but I did a dumb thing.”

Professor Howard sat down at his desk and chuckled disbelievingly. “I have a hard time believing that, Max. You’re the best student I’ve taught in years. Honestly, you should be at Harvard. You’re brilliant.”

Max cowered a bit and said, “Do Harvard students guess on their finals? Because that’s what I did.”

“Uh . . . I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying, Max,” Professor Howard admitted as he leaned forward to turn on his computer. “Care to elaborate?”

Max sighed and set his backpack down on the floor, taking a seat in an open chair. “Professor Howard, I . . . I made a mistake. My girlfriend, she had this dance audition at 6:30 last night. I promised her I’d be there. She said she’d understand if I couldn’t make it, but . . . I wanted to make it. So I rushed through the final. I only worked two problems out. The rest . . . I guessed. I just filled in answers, and the worst part is, I didn’t end up getting there on time anyway.”

Professor Howard frowned and said, “Well, Max, I’m not sure what you want me to say. On the one hand, it was a stupid thing to do, but on the other hand, I can understand your motivation. Still . . . I can’t do anything for you. You made the decision to guess when you could’ve made the decision to put in your best effort.” He shrugged. “I can’t let you retake it, Max.”

Max sighed. Of course not. He’d known that all along. Still, he’d been hoping that somehow, just somehow, he’d be able to.

“Honestly, I don’t see it having a very adverse effect on your grade,” the professor went on. “You have an A in the class, don’t you?”

“Well, A+.”

“Of course, of course. So, just anticipate dropping down to a B.”

Max sighed again. B. To anyone else, it was probably a good grade. But to him . . . he’d never gotten lower than an A- before, and that had been his theater class. Not a strong point. “Do you think I’ll still be valedictorian?” he asked.

“Well, I can’t say for sure,” Professor Howard admitted. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Max was leaning towards maybe not. It was one class. One average grade. But one too many. He knew the salutatorian and knew she had been studying for her finals 24/7 for the past two months, even skipping out on spring break to study. She wanted to be the valedictorian. And now she probably was going to be.

“Okay,” Max said, willing himself to accept it. “Okay, thank you, professor.” He grabbed his backpack and stood up to leave.

“Max.”

He stopped on his way out the door.

“You must really love your girlfriend. I know you. For you to not give it your all on a final . . . I hope she's the love of your life.”

“She is,” Max said confidently. She had to be.

“The tests should be graded within the next two days,” his professor informed him.

Max nodded and sulked out of the office. At least he’d be able to find out how horribly he failed sooner rather than later.

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

Liz awoke to the sound of knocking on her door the next morning. She sat up, rubbing her head, and took a look at the clock. 10:00 in the morning. She’d already missed her first class, and that hadn’t been her intention. The girls on her floor had kept her awake all night since her dorm room was their choice drinking pad.

Liz got out of bed and carefully made her way to the door, trying her best not to step on anybody who was either asleep or passed out on the floor. She opened up the door, hoping to find Michael there, but instead she came face to face with Wendy, her Resident Director. Not her Resident Assistant, but her Resident Director. She’d heard that meant bad news.

What did I do wrong? she thought, too tired to say anything.

“Hi, Liz. I just came by to drop off your housing application for the fall semester. Do you think you’ll be staying in Rothman Hall again or . . .” She trailed off, and Liz watched her eyes fixate on the interior of her room, all the hung-over girls asleep on the floor.

“Oh.” Liz quickly tried to pull the door shut, but her Resident Director was too smart for that.

“Liz.” Wendy’s voice was stern, disciplinary. “Open the door, please.”

Liz bit her bottom lip and, knowing she had no other choice, reluctantly re-opened the door. Wendy made her way inside, accidentally stepping on one of the girls, Alison. Ally rolled over onto her side, clutching her empty tequila bottle to her chest.

Wendy sighed heavily and said, “Rise and shine, girls. If I were you, I’d get out of here before I have to call the police and have you all arrested for underage drinking.”

Immediately, all the girls began to stir and sluggishly get to their feet. They set all the empty bottles down atop Liz’s dresser and hurried out of the room, some making a detour for the bathroom as the unpleasant morning puke-fest kicked in.

Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and turned slowly to look at Liz. She didn’t say anything for a moment, so Liz did. “I’m sorry. I know that looked bad.”

“That was bad, Liz.”

“But I’m not drunk. Smell my breath.” She opened her mouth wide and breathed out. Wendy took a step back, obviously unwavering.

“Liz, it doesn’t matter whether you were drinking or not. The fact of the matter is, underage girls were indulging in alcohol in your room. You’re ultimately responsible. And you know the dry campus policy.” She sighed disappointedly and said, “Come with me.”

“Am I getting arrested?” Liz asked in a panic.

“Of course not. But there will be consequences.” Wendy walked out of the room and motioned for Liz to follow her.

Oh god, Liz thought. I just wanted to do biology homework last night. Oh god. She quickly grabbed her room key and her cell phone and left the room with her Resident Director. On the way down the hallway to the elevator, she dialed Michael’s number and waited for him to answer. He doubted he’d be of any help, but who else was she supposed to call?

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

Michael got Maria out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her, and picked her up in his arms, carrying her back into her bedroom. He knew he was going a little above and beyond the call of friendship duty, but . . . he just didn’t want Maria to injure her ankle even more. That was the only reason why he’d stood in the shower with her. To hold her up. To help her. Not to do . . . anything else. Although, he had to admit, for a moment there, his mind had gone to horny places. But hell, that was where his mind lived. That was nothing new.

“I feel like a vegetable,” Maria grumbled. She had her arms looped around his neck, holding onto him.

“Is that like someone who can’t move?”

“I think so. I don’t know. Too many words in the English language have multiple meanings.”

“Agreed.” As far as he was concerned, people wasted too much time talking when they could be doing . . . other things. “Wait a minute,” he said when he spied his cell phone out on the kitchen counter, vibrating. He hauled Maria out there and glanced down at the caller ID.

“Liz?” Maria guessed.

“Yeah. I’ll call her back later.” He couldn’t very well have a conversation with her when he had a slippery Maria in his arms.

He carried Maria into her room and set her down on her bed. She scooted back towards the headboard and said, “You’re kind of a bad boyfriend, you know that? Liz is getting shafted.”

He grinned. Shafted. “That sounds dirty.”

“I’m serious. Not that I mind. I don’t like her anymore, but I do like getting spoiled. Immensely.”

He chuckled, because he sort of liked spoiling her. “Don’t get too cozy,” he said. “Once your ankle’s healed and you’re dancin’ on it again, you can spoil me.”

“And how should I do that?”

He smiled. “Well. If you really wanna know . . .”

“Just don’t say anything.” She smiled back at him. “You wanna toss me some clothes?”

Did he want to? Oh, no. But he opened the closet anyway and pulled out a yellow t-shirt. He tossed it to her, and she cringed.

“Ew, Michael, no. I hate that shirt. Give me the red one.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled a red Vegas t-shirt off the hanger. He tossed it to her, and she said to him, “Well, turn around.”

“Maria, seeing you naked is nothing new. Actually, I you’ll recall, five minutes ago . . .”

“Just turn around.”

He reluctantly turned around, closing his eyes and stifling a groan at the slight sound of her pulling her towel down. He really just couldn’t get enough of that girl without a stitch of clothing on. Nudist.

“Grey pants.”

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “What?”

“The grey sweatpants in the drawer.”

“Oh.” He opened the top drawer, but what he found in there was definitely a lot more interesting than sweatpants. Thongs and handcuffs. As far as he was concerned, that was a winning combination.

“Nice,” he remarked, holding up a tiny red thong. He flicked it at her sling-shot style, and she threw it back at him. He pretended to put it back in the drawer but stuffed it in his pocket instead. No harm in that. He was a guy. He could have a fetish.

He held up the handcuffs next, and she said, “I haven’t used those for a long time.”

He grinned and licked his lips as long-held fantasies rose to the surface. “You know, there you are, on the bed, and here I am, cuffs in hand.”

“I’d kick your ass,” she promised.

“With what? Your broken ankle?”

“My other ankle. And for the record, this one’s not broken. It’s just sprained and twisted and bad. But it feels better now . . . for some reason.”

He dropped the handcuffs back down in the drawer and shut it. He opened up the second drawer and got the grey sweatpants she had been asking for. He tossed them to her and turned around again while she threw the towel aside and put them on. It took her a little while, actually. Not long, but at least thirty seconds. She was probably being really careful about her injury.

“Damn,” she said. “I had no idea screwing up my ankle would screw me up so much.”

He turned around again since she was dressed and said, “You’ve always been messed up, Maria. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah, you’d be the expert on being messed up,” she said, smiling. “Don’t you have class right now or a movie to make?”

“Yes and yes. But screw class. And as for the movie . . .” He pointed his index finger at her. “You can help me with that.”

“How?”

“How do you think?”

If it were possible, she started to look even more confused. “You’re making the Maria Sexalica movie?” she asked incredulously.

“No, I’m making the Maria DeLuca movie,” he informed her. “I couldn’t think of anything better, so . . .”

“Gee, thanks.” She rolled her eyes. “FYI, there is nothing better.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

She smiled. “Just get your camera.”

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

Liz sat in her Resident Director’s office, a nervous wreck. How much trouble could she get in for this? She did know the dorm room rules. No one was supposed to have alcohol in their room, but everyone did at some point or another. Why was she the unlucky girl who got caught?

Wendy was on the phone with someone from the Campus Judicial Affairs office. Liz tried not to listen to what they were saying, because she didn’t want to get even more worked up. All she kept hearing over and over again was the word punishment. Punishment this and punishment that.

Come on, Michael, she thought, impatiently dialing her boyfriend’s phone number again. He wouldn’t pick up.

“The appropriate punishment . . .”

Frustrated, she decided to try someone else. Actually, she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of calling him in the first place. He was reliable, dependable. And he answered his phone right away.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Max . . .”

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

“Wow, this is some award-winning directing right here.”

“Shut up. It works.” Michael readjusted the camera, starting to feel a little bit of strain in his arm from holding it up from so long. He and Maria were lounging on her bed, and he had the camera focused on the two of them, hopefully filming the both of them. It definitely wasn’t a phenomenal directing style. Actually, it wasn’t even really directing since a chimpanzee could do it. But hell, he figured directors nowadays were making a killing off of filming things with hand-held cameras instead of steady-cams. Plus, it required a lot less work.

“You know what?” she said. “I think you’re gonna get an A on this project.”

“You think?”

“Oh, yeah. ‘Cause, you know, I didn’t until I found out you were making the Maria DeLuca movie. A+ , probably, since I’m such an interesting subject.”

“You’re pretty weird, Maria.” He brought the camera down to film only her and give his arm a rest. “Can I film your ankle?” he asked her.

“No. Why?”

“‘Cause it looks like a big fat elephant ankle.”

“Oh my god, you’re obnoxious.”

He laughed and asked again, “Can I?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I’m still pissed about it.”

“You seem like you’re in a pretty good mood to me,” he remarked, hoping in part that the good mood was due to him. As much as Maria got exasperated and fed up with him, it was obvious that she actually really enjoyed spending time with him. And that worked out well, because he loved spending time with her, too.

“I told you, my ankle doesn’t hurt that bad right now,” she said. “It still looks gross, though.”

“So let me film it.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m . . .” She seized the camera from him and turned it around on him. “I’m filming you.”

“Maria, don’t break that thing. I’m serious.”

“I’m not gonna break it,” she said, pushing forward the zoom switch. “Ooh. Zoom in. Zoom out. Zoom in. Zoom out.”

“You’re ruining my movie, babe.”

“Oh, that’s true. Go back to filming me. I’ll salvage it.” She handed the camera back to him.

He quickly fixed the zoom setting and held the camera up above them again to film the both of them. “You’re not gonna tell Liz about that whole shower thing, are you?” he asked.

“That was random.”

“Well, are you?”

She sighed and said, “No. And I’m thinking it probably won’t come up during any convos with Max, either.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Sounds like a plan.”

“A good plan,” she agreed.

Michael nodded. Sure, he’d just been helping Maria out . . . maybe getting a little bit turned on in the process. Max and Liz really didn’t need to know about that.

“Why haven’t you called her back yet?” Maria asked him.

“‘Cause . . . I don’t know, lazy or something. Come on now, isn’t this supposed to be the Maria DeLuca movie? Why are we talking about Liz? You don’t even like Liz.”

“Used to,” she said. “Okay, good point. Talk about me.”

“Well . . . you like cock.”

She smiled and admitted, “It’s true. I do.”

He laughed. Maybe this wouldn’t be an Academy Award winning movie, but he had a feeling he was going to like the way it turned out.

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

Max drove Liz over to his house that day. She had told him she wanted to see Michael, and since Michael probably hadn’t gone to class that day, Max deduced that, chances were, he was at home.

“Thanks for helping me out, Max,” Liz said quietly.

He shrugged. He hadn’t done much. A little talking, a little Liz-endorsement from the presumed (probably no longer) valedictorian. “Eighty hours of community service. Could be worse.”

“Yeah, but it could be a lot better.” She shook her head and said, “This is going on my academic record. How am I gonna tell me parents?”

“Well, they probably won’t be too happy,” Max acknowledged.

“What’s Michael gonna think?”

“Oh, he’ll probably be proud,” Max assured her. “Having a girlfriend who breaks the rules. That’s right up his alley.”

“I wasn’t trying to break the rules,” Liz insisted. “I just . . . I don’t know. I was actually trying to study, believe it or not. But then these girls just showed up at my room with alcohol and . . .” She sighed, looking unhappy. “Being popular isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Max felt his sympathies go out to her. There were definitely two sides to Liz Parker, the side she tried to keep hidden for fear of being thought of as a nerd and the façade she tried to present to get people to like her. He liked the nerdy side better but didn’t know quite how to tell her that without upsetting her.

As he pulled into the driveway, he saw a Lincoln Town Car in the driveway. It looked new, but he didn’t recognize it. Still, he knew exactly who had to be inside it. There were only a few people he could think of that would have enough money to buy a $50,000 dollar car.

“Whose car is that?” Liz asked.

Max didn’t answer as he pulled his car to a stop behind the Town Car. He shut it off, took the keys out, and opened the door just as his parents opened the doors to their car and got out.

“Mom. Dad,” he said, more than surprised to see them. They usually let him know when they were coming to visit him. A spontaneous visit like this was very . . . Amy DeLuca of them.

“Max!” his mother, Diane, exclaimed, making her way over to him to embrace him. “Perfect timing.”

Max hugged her back and cast a glance at his dad. Phillip Evans stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the house. “Place looks good, son,” he commented. “The yard needs a little work. I could hire you a gardener, if you want.”

“That’s okay, Dad. I’ll break out the lawnmower one of these days,” Max promised, detaching himself from his mother long enough to give his father a hug. His dad’s offer was generous, but he didn’t need his semi-rich parents offering to do anything more for him. Ever since he had moved out of the house four years ago, they had tried to exert their parental control by buying him things, paying his credit card bill . . . things like that.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” his mother asked, noticing Liz.

“Uh, we have a Liz. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Evans. Mr. Evans,” Liz greeted, extending her hand for a handshake with Diane and then Phillip.

“Nice to meet you,” both parents echoed.

“Uh, what’re you guys doing here?” Max asked his parents. He wouldn’t doubt if they were going to try to persuade him to transfer to an Ivy league university for graduate school, but that just wasn’t happening.

“Well, we haven’t seen you since Christmas,” his mother said. “We haven’t seen your sister since Thanksgiving. That’s just a few months too long, don’t you think? I mean, we don’t live that far away.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Max said. “I’ve just been busy studying, you know, and tutoring.”

His mother smiled and patted his cheek. “The perfect son.”

“He certainly is,” Phillip agreed. “Although, I think the perfect son would have invited us in the house by now.”

“Right,” Max said. “Um . . . just a minute, okay? I wanna make sure it’s . . . clean.”

“Well, if it’s anything like the yard . . .” his father grumbled.

“Come on, Liz,” Max said, grabbing Liz’s hand and leading her inside the house.

“They seem nice,” Liz said as they walked into the living room.

“Well, sometimes.” He quickly picked up a few clothes that were scattered about tossed them onto the bathroom floor. He shut the door to the bathroom and called, “Michael! Maria!” He opened the door to Maria’s room and found both her and Michael in there, lying on her bed. Michael had his camera out and was filming her.

“Hey, Maxwell,” he said.

“My parents are here,” Max blurted.

“Oh, perfect,” Maria grumbled. “Life just keeps on sucking, doesn’t it?”

“Well, your mom’s not with them, so at least we can be grateful for that,” Max said.

“Very grateful,” she agreed.

“But . . . you guys wanna come out and see them?”

“No,” both Michael and Maria answered emphatically in unison.

“Come on, guys. You’re gonna have to eventually.”

Maria sighed and was the first to start getting up. Michael turned off his video camera, set it aside, and helped Maria up. Before Max could concentrate too much on the fact that Michael and Maria had been lying in bed together yet again, he heard his parents walk through the front door.

“Sorry, honey, we couldn’t wait,” his mother said. “It was getting cold out there.”

Frigid sixty degrees, Max thought, heading out into the living room to join Liz and his parents.

“House looks good, son,” his dad commented. “Smells a little funny, but . . . we’ll get you an air freshener.”

Max nodded. The house smelt like alcohol and sex, but he was glad his parents couldn’t seem to pinpoint the odors.

Michael traipsed into the living room, and Maria followed him, wobbling.

“Oh, the terrible twosome,” Phillip commented.

“Mr. Evans, always a pleasure,” Michael muttered.

“Maria, you must be pregnant. You’ve packed on a little weight,” Diane came right out and remarked.

“Mom,” Max said, appalled at her rudeness.

Maria smiled, bit her tongue, and said, “No, not pregnant. Not even fat, really, but whatever.”

“Are the two of you graduating?” Phillip asked. “Or are you dropping out?”

“Graduating,” Michael replied. “Yeah, gotta love those square hats they make you wear.”

“And what exactly are you plans after college?” Diane continued to interrogate. “Perhaps you’ll find real jobs and assist with the household expenses at last.”

“Well, I’m gonna do some independent filmmaking,” Michael replied.

“Oh, my,” Phillip said. “That doesn’t sound like the most stable career choice.”

Michael chuckled a little and said, “Oh, those legendary words of encouragement. Thanks, Mr. Evans.”

“And what about you, Maria?” Diane asked. “What do you plan to do? Are you still chasing the dance delusion?”

Max tried to cut in. “Mom, you know, I really don’t think--”

“It’s not a delusion,” Maria spoke confidently. “I’m gonna be a dancer. I already am a dancer, a very good one.”

“Hmm, well, your ankle tells a different story. What a monstrosity,” Diane remarked.

“Okay,” Max said, hating this. Like most adults, his parents had never gotten along well with Michael and Maria, and while Michael and Maria were never outright disrespectful to them, the hostility never ceased. “You guys want something to eat?” he asked his parents.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. We just had a four-course lunch at the Majesté restaurant outside of town.”

“I could go for some Burger King myself,” Maria mumbled.

“Oh, dear, if you’re trying to watch your figure, which you should, no burgers,” Diane cautioned. “Broth and water only.”

“Oh, that sounds so yummy,” Maria said sarcastically, “and I’m sure the resulting anorexia would be a blast.”

Max couldn’t help but smile as his girlfriend held her own. She was really tough.

“Hmm, well, it’s just my advice,” Diane said as she looked around the house. “Now where is the other one, the one who corrupted our Isabel?”

“Kyle?” Max said.

“That’s right. Kyle. Where is he?”

“He’s in class,” Max told her, “and he didn’t corrupt Isabel.”

“Oh, he certainly did.”

“Well, they’re not dating anymore.”

“They aren’t?” His parents exclaimed overjoyed looks, both of them all smiles.

“Good,” Phillip said. “Now maybe she can get her life back on track.”

“Well, I-I don’t think her life’s really off-track,” Max said, feeling the need to stand up for his sister. “She’s got a new boyfriend now, and I think you’ll really like him, so . . .”

“Oh, and I’m sure he’ll like us.” His mom continued to smile.

Don’t be too sure about that, Max thought. The only person who honestly liked his parents was Amy DeLuca, and that was because they were all so similar.

“Well, we need to go find a hotel,” his father announced.

“Oh, will you be . . . staying long?” Max asked fearfully.

“For a few days at least,” his mother answered. “Your father has a few days off work, and we knew you’d want to see us.”

“Right.” He’d really been fine just talking to them over the phone, though. At least they weren’t going to be staying at his house, though.

“Are there any decent hotels in the area?” his father asked.

“Uh . . .”

“There’s a Super 8 on 49th Street,” Maria volunteered.

His mother laughed and said, “A Super 8? What are we, peasants?” They started for the door, but before they left, Diane spun around and said, “What time should we be here for dinner tonight?”

“Uh, dinner?” Max echoed.

“Does 7:00 sound good?”

Max nodded slowly. “7:00. Great.”

“Grand,” Diane said. “And I trust your girlfriend will be there.” She motioned to Liz.

Max cast a glance at Liz, who looked a little taken aback. They think she’s my girlfriend, he thought, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with them thinking that. “Yes,” he said. “We will all be there.”

“Wonderful,” Diane said. “7:00.”

“Mow the yard before then,” Phillip advised as the two of them walked out the front door.

Max breathed a sigh of relief once they were gone. He had lived through the first parental invasion since Christmas. He had told a little white lie, though. “I’m sorry, Maria,” he immediately apologized. “It’s not that I’m ashamed of you. I just . . . haven’t gotten around to telling them about us yet.”

“Max, it’s fine,” she said. “Honestly, I really don’t want them to know about us. They already hate me enough as it is.”

Max sighed again and said, “Okay. I gotta go get changed. I gotta mow the lawn.” He gave Maria a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into his bedroom. The first thing he did was stash all the pictures of himself and Maria in the top drawer of his nightstand. One of these days, he’d tell his parents about the two of them, and they would just have to accept it. But not now.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

nibbles:

How much easier would it be for everybody if Liz really was Max's girlfriend?

Much easier, but probably much less interesting, too.
Christina:

Yes, I understand his parents don't think too highly of her, but if he loves her as much as he seems to think he does, then he wouldn't feel the need to hide their relationship from them.

You're exactly right, so maybe this is a sign that he doesn't love her as much as he thinks he does.
Alien_Friend:

Either the parents are crazy but the kids are sane or the parents are sane but the kids are crazy like with Liz.

I know! I've noticed this strange phenomenon a lot in real life, particularly when I was student-teaching last semester. I'd see these crazy teenagers who came from the nicest, most conservative parents, or the nicest kids who came from the meanest parents, or the messed up kids who came from the stable families . . . It's kind of interesting how different parents and children can be.
Sara:

I am so excited for the updated in 100 pages....woohoo!!!

Well, you should be! You've waited long enough!
Ashley:

I love that Max didn't tell them, it shows that he has flaws too.

Yeah, Max is usually the guy who does things right, but lately he's been making some big mistakes, first f---ing up his final, now not telling his parents about Maria. (By the way, I hope it's okay that I just start calling you Ashley. It's a beautiful name. Years ago I had a friend named Ashley who posted here!)
Krista:

For some odd reason, I never pictured the Evans' to be like that. But in retrospect, it makes PERFECT sense. LOL. I mean, there's Isabel, who was in a 3-way relationship. There's Max, who's just too perfect. Their parents being the way they are is very fitting.

Yep, their strict, overbearing parental tactics didn't work with one kid (Isabel) and worked like a charm with the other (Max.)
Vael:

Oh i like the Evans parents already

Oh, I should have known you would!
mrs_guerin:

do the parents know about the Tess aspect of the relationship?

Yes, they do, that's part of the reason why they hate Kyle so much.
tequathisy:

The magic they create when they are alone and can let their guard down is so sweet, even if they cover it with crude terms.

Oh, I'm so glad you feel that way, because that's exactly the dynamic I was going for!
spacegirl23:

Anyway, M+M don't really mind the disapproval don't they?

No, they don't really give a rat's ass whether adults like them or not.
Tine:

Max, Max, Max; I just don't get that guy! First he brags about Maria when talking to his teacher, telling him how she's the love of his life but a few hours later he is too ashamed of her to tell his own parents the same thing?

Max is actually a lot more complex than one might think. The problem is, he's always been sort of spineless, first with his parents, and now with Maria. He just doesn't really know how to assert himself unless he's in an academic situation.




Thank you all for the wonderful feedback! The next update will be Monday. (Monday, Wednesday, Friday . . . you see how these three-a-week updates are going to work?) (Enjoy this part!)

(Oh, one more thing. It looks like Michael sings a little "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred again in this part!) (Just a little. I love that song!)










Part 83









Liz wasn’t quite sure what to think about Max’s parents. They definitely weren’t what she had expected them to be. Max was such a nice guy. She’d always assumed that his parents were . . . well, nice.

“Okay, what just happened?” she asked Michael and Maria.

“Ah, the Evanses,” Maria said. “They’ll throw anybody for a loop.”

“I love to hate ‘em,” Michael put in.

“I didn’t picture them like that at all,” Liz admitted. “I mean, at first they seemed okay, but now . . . are they really as bad as I think they are?”

“They’re better than Maria’s mom,” Michael said. “Barely.”

“They’re upper middle class but like to think they’re rich,” Maria added.

Michael nodded. “Max is their pride and joy. Their biggest achievement is that he’s a bona fide genius.”

“And their biggest disappointment is that Isabel’s not.” Maria made a face. “They really hate Kyle.”

“And us.”

“Oh, yes, and us. But we hate them, too, so that works out well.”

“They wish Max had gone to Harvard.”

“They’ll never forgive him if they find out he’s dating me.”

“They’ll love you,” Michael promised Liz. “You’re exactly what they want for Max.”

Liz sighed nervously and said, “Oh my.”

“The bottom line is, Max has always risen above and beyond his parents’ expectations,” Maria said. “I never even came close to my mom’s. But regardless, they’re all really annoying and overbearing parents. They think they’re perfect. They think they’re always right. They’d give anything to dictate every waking second of their children’s lives.” She shrugged. “I can’t stand any of ‘em.”

“Huh,” Liz said. “So . . . what you’re basically saying is that I need to make a really good impression on them?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Maria agreed.

“But, hey, it shouldn’t be too hard,” Michael said, placing an arm around her shoulder. “You’re Liz Parker.”

“Yeah,” she said, thinking about the eighty hours of community service she had to do and her now blemished academic record. “But so far, my day hasn’t been very impressive.”

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

Michael made a conscious effort not to partake in dinner preparation that night. Actually, he did that every night. He was especially not partaking tonight, though, since the dinner was for Phillip and Diane Evans. He’d tried to get on the their good side back in high school, but both of them had automatically dismissed him as a no-good trouble maker. Which, in all fairness, he always would be, but they refused to see past that and get to know him at all. Plus, they said some very rude stuff to Maria sometimes, and that really pissed him off above all else.

“I’m too sexy for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt. So sexy it hurts . . .” he sang as he ventured out into the living room and kitchen that night. Kyle was at the stove, hurriedly finishing up a casserole, and Max was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, vacuuming, dusting, and setting the dinner table all at the same time. “Michael,” he said, shutting off the vacuum for a moment. “Have you seen the good silverware?”

“We have good silverware?” He hadn’t been aware of that.

“Never mind.” Max turned on the vacuum again and kept on going.

Michael stood back, shaking his head in dismay as he observed the anxiety. Kyle looked just as terrified as Max, maybe even more so. But then again, he had good reason to. Phillip and Diane blamed him for all of Isabel’s shortcomings even though, compared to most girls, she didn’t have many.

The doorbell rang, and Max and Kyle both froze. Max turned off the vacuum, and Kyle’s heart started to pound so loudly that Michael was sure people in New Jersey could hear it.

“They’re here,” Max whispered, his voice shaking. He quickly unplugged the vacuum and shoved it into the closet, tossing the dust rag and furniture polish in with it. As Kyle blew on his casserole to cool it off, Max straightened out his shirt and made his way over to the door, cautiously opening it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he did. “Oh, thank God. It’s not them.”

Michael peered around the door and saw Liz. She was wearing a long, form-fitting black dress and a diamond necklace. Her hair was up in a bun on top of her head, and she looked the quintessential girlfriend parents loved.

“Wow,” Michael said. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

“You really do look nice,” Max said. “I gotta keep vacuuming.” He quickly rushed back to the closet.

Liz shut the door and said to Michael, “I’ve never seen Max spaz out before. He’s usually so calm. It’s interesting.” She glanced over into the kitchen and said, “Is Kyle cooking?”

“Yeah.” Michael chuckled and took another look at Liz. “You know, you didn’t have to get that dressed up.” She looked as though she were going to Prom or something.

“I thought you’d like it,” she said softly.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant, Liz. I do. Really. You look amazing. It’s just . . . it’s not really that formal of a dinner. I mean, we’re not even using the good silverware.”

She shrugged and said, “Well, you know, I’m meeting my ‘boyfriend’s’ parents tonight so . . .”

“Right. Don’t worry. They’ll think you’re, like, the second coming of Christ or something.”

She laughed. “I can’t imagine why.”

He gave her a kiss on the forehead, and as he did so, he saw Maria out of the corner of his eye. She hobbled down the hallway, putting a little more weight on her ankle than she had been earlier, and went to stand beside Kyle at the stove. “What’re you making?” she asked him.

“It’s a corn and macaroni casserole,” he told her. “Online recipe. Fast. Simple. Tasty. Gotta love it.”

God, she looks good, Michael thought, unable to keep from staring at Maria. She was just wearing jeans and the same red t-shirt she’d put on earlier. Nothing spectacular by any means, but she made it look spectacular.

“There’s no cheese in that, is there?” Max asked as he plugged in the vacuum again.

“Yeah,” Kyle replied. “Why?”

“They hate cheese.”

Kyle threw his hands up in exasperation and shrieked, “What kind of people hate cheese? What, are they from another planet?”

“Well, they’re very unusual,” Max acknowledged.

“Well, they’re just gonna have to deal, ‘cause I can’t very well take the cheese out now.”

“It smells good, Kyle,” Liz piped up.

“Thank you, Liz.”

Liz. Again, Michael felt sort of bad. She’d gotten all dressed up, probably more in an effort to impress him than Max’s parents. She looked great, gorgeous even. But he was still staring at Maria.

“I’m gonna have to get you out of that dress later,” he said, forcing his eyes away from Maria.

Liz smiled up at him. “I was hoping you would.”

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

Dinner at the DeLuca-Guerin-Valenti-Evans household that night was awkward to say the least. For the first five minutes, nobody said anything. The only audible sounds were the sounds of silverware scraping against plates and hands wiping against napkins. Maria thought it was very boring and wanted to get the hell out of there.

Finally, Mrs. Evans said something, though it wasn’t a very pleasant something. “The casserole’s a bit too cheesy for my taste.”

“Mmm, I agree,” Phillip said as he wiped off his mouth with his napkin.

Kyle obviously took offense at that, being that he’d slaved away on that casserole for over an hour. “Gee, and here I thought it was still cool to say thank you. Boy, am I behind the times or what?”

Maria smiled. Kyle had this unique ability to engage in verbal combat without sounding rude or arrogant.

“So, Kyle,” Diane said, shoving her remaining casserole off to the side of her plate. “When did you and Izzy break up?”

“Oh, all of two days ago, Mrs. Evans.”

“And who initiated it?”

“It was kind of a mutual thing.”

“And what does that mean?”

Kyle sighed, looking as though he wanted to stand up and scream at the top his lungs. But he kept his cool. “Isabel found someone else. Kid named Alex. You’ll really like him. He’s smart like Max.”

Diane smiled. “Oh, well, that sounds promising.”

“Yeah, it does,” Phillip agreed. “No offense, Kyle, but I never quite pictured you and Isabel as a match. Actually, I tried my hardest not to picture it since you had another girlfriend, too.”

“Her name’s Tess.”

“And are you still dating her?”

Kyle again sighed before answering. “Yes. We’ll probably be getting married within the next few years. I would invite you to the ceremony but . . . I just don’t want to.”

Maria laughed a little. You go Kyle, she thought. In her opinion, Mr. and Mrs. Evans had been horribly unfair to him ever since he’d first hooked up with Isabel.

“Maybe now her grades will get better,” Diane speculated. “I think you were always bringing her down in that aspect, corrupting her. Just like you corrupted this casserole.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go hibernate,” Kyle announced, quickly rising from his seat and heading downstairs.

Diane watched him leave and mumbled to her husband, “If the devil’s name wasn’t Satan, it’d be Kyle Valenti.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Michael piped up. “It’d be Maria DeLuca.”

She swung her leg to the side and kicked his ankle when he said that.

“Ow!”

“At least she’d be a sexy devil,” she said. “Oh, speaking of the devil . . . how is my mom? Pretend that I care.”

“Oh, she’s just wonderful,” Diane gushed. “Volunteering at the church, getting ready to go on a short mission trip to Africa. I tell you, that woman is just one of the nicest, most caring women I’ve ever met.”

Maria choked on the bite of casserole she’d been swallowing when Diane said that, and Michael patted her on the back to relieve her. “I know,” he said. “I almost choked, too, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s insane. My mom is not nice. A bitchy, know-it-all, pain in my ass, sure, but not nice.”

“She has her convictions,” Diane reasoned.

“She called me a whore.”

“Well, maybe you should give her a reason not to,” Diane suggested, smiling.

“Mom, that’s enough,” Max snapped.

“Yeah, there’s only a select few people who can call her that,” Michael informed her. “Me and . . . me. And Kyle, occasionally. And Max, if he wanted to, but he never would ‘cause . . . well, he’s Max.”

“That’s right, he is,” Phillip boasted proudly. “He’s nearly the perfect son.”

Nearly? Maria thought. How much more perfect can he get? Max had been a great son to his parents, and he was still only nearly perfect. Some people were never satisfied.

“If only he’d gone to Harvard . . .” Phillip mused. “I still don’t know why he didn’t.”

“Dad, I’ve told you a hundred times. I didn’t wanna be that far from home.”

“I think it all worked out,” Diane said, sounding uncharacteristically optimistic for once. “You found the perfect girlfriend here.” She looked down the table and smiled at Liz. “Darling, you are just delightful.”

Liz smiled. “Thank you.”

Unfair, Maria thought. Liz didn’t even have to do anything, and parents thought she was a perfect little angel. If Maria didn’t do anything, parents thought she was the spawn of Satan. Which, technically, since her mother was Amy DeLuca, she was.

“Now, Liz, where are you from?” Diane asked as she folded up her napkin and set it beside her plate. Apparently she was done eating even though she’d hardly eaten anything.

“Uh, Nebraska,” Liz answered.

“Oh, I just adore that little state.”

Liz smiled. “Yeah. It’s not that little, actually. Just sparsely populated in some areas.”

“Did you grow up on a farm?” Phillip asked.

“Oh, no. But I didn’t really grow up in a city, either. Small-town girl.”

Phillip and Diane exchanged a pleased look and smiled. “You know,” Diane said, “Max is small-town boy. That’s a great match. Small towns are the best places to raise children, instill values in them. We tried our best with Max and Isabel, and I’m happy to say we succeeded. With Max, at least.”

“Isabel’s a work in progress,” Phillip acknowledged. “Luckily, she has a few more values than you two, though.” He gestured to Michael and Maria and chuckled as though his remark were some kind of funny.

“Hey, I value sex,” Michael informed them.

“Me, too,” Maria agreed readily. “I value sex a lot.”

“Mmm-hmm. Definitely.”

Mrs. Evans looked flabbergasted. “Dear heavens,” she exclaimed dramatically. “If I was either of your mothers, I’d wash your mouths out with soap. That is not appropriate conversation for the dinner table.”

“Oh, I don’t just talk that way at the dinner table. I talk that way all the time,” Maria reminded her.

“Yes, I seem to recall the night Phillip and I renewed our vows, when you got drunk, stood up on a table, and begged someone to carry you out to the backseat of his car to . . . do what people do in the backseat of a car.”

“She doesn’t drink anymore,” Michael informed them. “She almost died.”

“Yeah, it sucked.”

Phillip and Diane both shook their heads, and Phillip said, “Well, in all honesty, I’m surprised you two aren’t balancing kids on both arms right now.”

Maria gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Well, I assume you are finally a couple, right?"

A couple of deer caught in the headlights, Maria thought as she and Michael both stared at him wordlessly. Finally, Michael nodded and spoke up, though. “Yes. Yes, we are.” He wrapped an arm around her chair, cupping her shoulder with his hand. “We’re a couple. We’re a horny, horny couple.”

“Michael!”

“No shame in that, baby. You know you want me.”

“Uh!”

“And the sex . . .” He exhaled and grinned. “Gettin’ it on every night. ‘Til the break of dawn. This girl takes it well. And she’ll be the first to tell you, I give it well, you know? I’m really committed. Oh, but you get her on top, and she just goes crazy. I can just lay back and let her go ‘cause she’s like an animal. Thrashin’ and . . .”

“Okay, enough!” Max barked, springing to his feet. He turned to look at his horrified parents and said, “Mom, Dad . . . Michael’s not dating Maria. I am.”

Oh, shit, Maria thought, scooting lower in her seat. Here comes the hate . . .

At first, Phillip and Diane just looked shocked. “What do you mean, Max?” his mother asked him.

Max sighed heavily. It was obvious that he hadn’t planned on telling them this. “I’m dating Maria. Maria’s my girlfriend.”

“But . . . Liz.” She gasped then, holding her hand to her mouth, and exclaimed, “No! You’re doing what that devil boy Kyle did! You’re having two girlfriends?”

“No, Liz is not my girlfriend. We were just lying to you. Liz is Michael’s girlfriend.”

“What?!” both of the Evans parents shrieked in unison, whirling their faces around to gape at Michael.

“How is this possible?” Phillip wondered aloud. “Is this some kind of practical joke?”

“Max, how could you be so stupid?” Diane cried.

“Mom . . . shut up!”

Even Maria was taken aback by that one. Max had never said anything remotely disrespectful to his parents. ‘Shut up’ was a milestone for him.

“I love her!” he roared. “We love each other!”

Maria glanced down at the table, unable to look at him when he said that. Because she knew it wasn’t true . . .

“I’m sick of you trying to tell me what to do!” Max kept on. “I’m an adult! I can do what I wanna do; I can be with whoever I wanna be with. And I wanna be with Maria. And you’re not gonna stop me.”

Diane shook her head in disbelief and squeaked out, “But Max . . . it’s obvious, you’re a much better match with Liz. Maria isn’t right for you. She’s not good enough for you.”

“Uh, hello, sitting right here,” Maria reminded her.

“You two can shut the fuck up,” Michael warned them. “You don’t know anything about her.”

“I already know more than I want to,” Diane assured him, “and maybe you should be the one to shut up, Michael Guerin . I’ve had just about enough out of you. All of you! First you corrupt my daughter, now you corrupt my son!”

“They’re not corrupting me, Mom!” Max bellowed. Maria was truly shell-shocked at the sound of his voice. She’d never heard him yell before. “God, can’t you two just . . . I’m not gonna sit here any longer and let you guys rip into them! Maria’s my girlfriend! She and Michael and Kyle are my best friends! They’re my only friends!”

“We’re your parents, Max,” his father sternly reminded him.

“Yeah, but you’re not my friends! And that’s why I won’t listen to you anymore! I can’t take it!” Burning with fury, Max stormed off into his bedroom and slammed the door. Maria wasn’t sure whether to let him be alone or go see if she could calm him down. She decided on the latter since he always seemed grateful to be around her.

She pushed her chair back and stood up, quietly slinking off to his bedroom. Diane gave her an evil glare as she passed, and she resisted the urge to return it with a glare of her own. This fight wasn’t a small deal. Max’s relationship with his parents was on the line here, and that meant something to him.

She pushed open the door to his bedroom and slipped inside, promptly shutting it and locking it behind her. He was lying flat on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Are you?”

Typical. He was always thinking of her first. She nodded.

“Good,” he said. “I’m sorry, Maria.”

She shrugged. “Parents never like me. It’s okay.”

“No, but they . . . they crossed the line.”

“They always do.” She sighed and sat down beside him on the bed, wishing she knew what to do to make him feel better.

“I can’t believe I said all that,” he confessed.

“Did it feel good?”

“Yeah. Good and terrifying.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she told him, laying her hand on his stomach.

“Thanks.” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Come here.”

She lay down beside him, curling up against his side, resting her head on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stroked one hand over her hair. “This is all that matters to me, Maria,” he said. “Us. As long as we’re together, everything will be okay.”

She didn’t say anything—she didn’t even move. All the guilt that she had been carrying around pretty much tripled in that moment, and she felt guiltier than she ever had in her life.

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

With Max, Maria, and Kyle gone from the dinner table, that left Michael, Liz, and the Evanses. For a long time, nobody moved; nobody said anything. Finally, Diane pushed her chair backward and rose to her feet, and Phillip followed suit.

“Well,” Diane said to Michael, “you can let our son know that we’ll be in town for a few more days. We’d like to have this situation resolved before we leave.”

“Yeah, well, we’d like you guys to go to hell,” Michael shot back. He really didn’t like Max’s parents. Never had.

“Michael,” Liz cautioned, “I don’t think you’re helping things.”

“I don’t really care.”

Diane turned her attention to Liz and said, “And you, young lady . . . I’m so sorry you lied to us, because you really do seem like a nice girl. If I were you, I’d stay away from this one.” She gestured to Michael. “It’s obvious you and my son are much better suited.”

“Just leave,” Michael grumbled. “Nobody wants you here.”

Mrs. Evans slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. Phillip glanced at both Michael and Liz and said, “We’ll be back tomorrow. Make sure you tell Max that.”

“Sure, fuck you,” Michael muttered, watching eagerly as the two overbearing parents stalked out of the house, looking both furious and close to tears at the same time. He breathed a sigh of relief once they were gone. “Thank God. Can you believe that? Tellin’ Maria she doesn’t deserve Max, tellin’ you to stay away from me?” He grunted. “She made it sound like we have a sham relationship.”

“Well . . . maybe we do,” Liz mumbled, getting up from the table.

He wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right, so he had to ask, “What?”

She sighed as she picked up the plates and brought them over to the sink. “Nothing.”

Michael wasn’t about to let it go that easily. Liz was definitely not happy, and since he was her boyfriend . . . well, he kind of had to find out why that was. “What’s wrong, Liz?” he asked, getting to his feet as well.

“Nothing,” she said again, trying to act all busy scooping leftovers into the trash.

“Come on, you don’t believe them, right? We’re good together. Opposites attract, you know? Or something like that.”

“Gee, try to sound a little more convincing.”

He wrinkled his forehead, taken aback. “What’s with you?”

“I don’t know, Michael. Honestly, I don’t know. Because you . . . you’re supposed to be with me. But . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Liz.”

“Look, I don’t wanna fight.”

“No, come on, if we’re gonna fight, let’s fight,” he urged. Personally, as much as he was dreading it, he was looking forward to it. He and Liz had never really had a serious fight before. He was the kind of guy who needed some conflict to stay interested.

She set the plates down in one side of the sink and looked at him in exasperation. “Michael, I had a problem today, a real, serious problem, and I needed your help.”

“Wait, back up. What kind of problem?” As long as it wasn’t a pregnancy problem, he could deal.

“I got in trouble because some girls came by and got drunk in my room last night,” she explained. “So, even though I didn’t drink anything, I have to do eighty hours of community service to work it off, and it’s going on my permanent record.”

“Oh.” Honestly, he’d been expecting her to drop a much larger bombshell than that. That, to him, was no big deal, but he supposed he could understand why it would be a big deal to her. “That . . . sucks.”

“That sucks?” she echoed. “Michael . . .”

He didn’t know what she wanted to hear. “Well, what do you want me to say, Liz?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well, make up your mind!” He realized he was yelling and remembered who he was yelling at and quickly told himself to calm down. This wasn’t like the fighting he did with Maria. Those fights were fun. Those fights always had a good ending.

“Michael,” she said again, lowering her voice as well. “You took it too far tonight.”

“Look, I can’t stand Max’s parents. I can’t help but give ‘em a piece of my mind.”

“I’m not talking about them, Michael, I’m talking about you and Maria.” She looked sad. Really sad. “When you were pretending to be her boyfriend, you just seemed a little too enthusiastic about it. And I mean, I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s like this all the time. But tonight, when Mr. Evans asked you if you guys were dating, and you just said yes so easily . . .”

“What? That? I was just . . . I was just messin’ around. You and Max were tryin’ to pass as a couple, so I figured it’d be more believable if Maria and I did, too.”

“Well, you know what, it’s really easy for you and Maria to pass as a couple, because you do everything together,” Liz snapped.

He grunted, not really sure what to say to that. It was true. He and Maria hung out all the time. Sometimes, even when they weren’t alone, it felt like just the two of them . . . “I’m sorry I’m not a perfect boyfriend,” he said bitterly. In case she’d forgotten, this was his first relationship, too.

“I don’t want you to be perfect,” she said. “I just want . . .” She stared at him and shook her head in disappointment. “I just want you to call me back, Michael.”

He frowned, confused.

“You never called me back today,” she elaborated. “I called you over and over again, left you all these voicemails, but you never . . .” A few tears fell over onto her cheeks, and he stood there, unable to stop them. “I needed you,” she practically whispered, “and you weren’t there. You were with Maria.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. It was true. What was worse, he’d been in the shower with Maria. Not in a sexual way, but still . . .

As her tears began to fall faster, she slowly made her way to the door. Michael wasn’t sure what to do. He stood back and watched her walk out the door and kept silent, because he wasn’t sure what to say. This definitely wasn’t his field of expertise. But still, even though he was new to the whole girlfriend arena, even though it got a little boring sometimes, even though he’d once thought he’d sustain himself on casual sex forever, he really was making an effort to make his relationship with Liz work. He was trying to do a good thing.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, stressed. The fight he’d just had definitely wasn’t a Michael/Maria fight. It was a Michael/Liz fight. He liked the former better.










TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Vael:

How come Isabel didn't turn up for dinner?

Well, she didn't know that her parents were in town. Even if she had known, though, the chances that she would have shown up are very unlikely. Isabel has gotten smart enough over the years to know that avoiding her parents is sometimes the best course of action, whereas Max has only continued to try to please them.
Wendy:

I know that Amy is cruel mom, but she still paid for Maria's college. That just proved enough that she still care somewhere.

Yep, that's true. Amy does care about Maria, but she doesn't know how to show it. (Actually, you haven't seen the last of her in this fic.) And Max's parents do care about him, too, but they're just so crticial of everything.
Tine:

and seems like Max finally grew a pair! but I guess that won't be his last explosion...

Hmm, well, Max is still keeping a lot bottled up inside, so it's always possible that he could let it all out again.
Christina:

I really hope they break up from all this. But is that too much wishful thinking on my part, April?

Maybe. These so-called "relationships" are definitely starting to fall apart, though, so keep up the wishful thinking. It just might happen someday.
crazysnape:

There is something I don't understand If Mr and Mrs Evans are good friend with Amy, why didn't she tell them that Max and Maria were dating ?

Well, that's a good question. And to be quite honest, I don't really have an answer! Plot hole on my part. I guess we could say that Amy was so shaken up by her last encounter with her daughter that she didn't want to talk about it to anyone and therefore didn't tell the Evanses about Max and Maria. Or something. Anyway, it's nice to know that you're still reading and enjoying!
Alien_Friend:

He's finally growing into his big boy pants and Maria is going to break his heart soon enough. Then what's going to happen. I can see him maybe retreating back into his shell.

It's definitely possible, but you'll just have to wait and see.
Ashley:

I noticed that all the characters are being someone they don't want to be, like they're forcing themselves.

Most definitely. Max is forcing himself to be the smart, good guy when, underneath the surface, he has a lot of turbulent emotions. Liz is forcing herself to bet the popular girl, Maria is forcing herself to be Max's girlfriend, and Michael . . . well, even he's kind of forcing himself to stick with Liz.
tequathisy:

I think Max knew exactly what he was doing when he told Maria that as long as he had her he'd be ok. Deep down Max knows the truth and that's why he keeps giving her rings and telling her he loves her. He's manipulating her to stay with him because he knows that she's in love with Michael.

Ooh, that's an interesting theory! I guess it all depends on how you interpret the character, but I would say you're not wrong.
mrs_guerin: Yep, some growth from both Max and Liz in the last part. The problem is that something always stunts their growth, though, and usually that something is their feelings for Michael and Maria.
Krista:

The poor guy wouldn't know passion if it dressed up as a naked Maria and gave him a lap dance.

That's the sad thing. Max is living this passion-less life. It doesn't mean that he doesn't have passion within him. He's just never truly experienced it.
Brie: Thank you for taking the time to feedback on each part! Very nice of you!
killjoy:

Loved Kyle's comment about marrying Tess in the future

I knew you would! The fic won't go on long enough to see them get married, but clearly they will.





Well, I hope everyone had a good weekend! I know I did, but I'm glad to be back with an update!

In this part, there is a lot of reference to this silly little Internet quiz I found online. You'll see when you read it, but you can find it here: http://www.gagirl.com/quiz/colours.html I stumbled upon it one day and just decided to include it in this story because I'm quirky like that.








Part 84









Liz ripped her dress as she was getting out of it that night, and that made her cry harder. Stupid dress, she thought. She had worn it for Michael, mostly, but he’d barely said two words about it. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about her.

And she loved him. It had to be love because her feelings were strong and . . .

She was set on sitting down at her desk and reading a couple of chapters of her biology book through her tear-clouded eyes when there was a knock on the door. “What?” she barked, not amused if the girls on her floor wanted to have another tequila night.

No answer. Just another slow but insistent knock.

She sighed in full-out exasperation, shoved her biology book away once again, and stomped over to the door. “What?” She stopped short when she found Michael standing out in the hallway with a tulip in his hand. Her first instinct was to slam the door in his face, but she couldn’t manage to do that.

“I’m not with Maria now,” he said quietly.

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Yeah, but I bet you wish you were.”

“Liz . . .” He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together for a moment, obviously trying to stay calm. “I’m trying, okay?”

He was. As angry as she was in that moment, she could see that he was trying. He had to care about her at least a little. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come by. He would’ve just stayed home. With Maria.

Don’t go for it, she thought, even though she found herself reaching out to take the flower. “Where’d you get this?” she asked him.

“Some person’s yard.”

She smiled a little and sniffed the tulip. It smelled nice.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Don’t go for it. Her hand was on the door. She could have shut it easily. But she didn’t. She opened it up even farther and allowed him to come inside. Just like she always did.

“Thanks,” he said, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Dammit, she thought, frustrated with herself. He always gets me.

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

Maria prolonged studying that evening by calling Tess and talking to her about the events of the day. Tess started off talking about Isabel. She said that, surprisingly, it wasn’t weird sharing a dorm room with her after everything between the two of them and Alex and Kyle. In fact, she said, Isabel seemed happier than ever, and she and Alex were already making plans to move in together over the summer. Or maybe even sooner.

After that, the conversation switched to Max and Isabel’s parents. Maria relayed the entire dinner conversation, and Tess said that she was happy to have missed out on that.

“Suck day, huh?” Tess remarked. “I mean, you had to deal with Max’s parents and your bad ankle. How is your ankle, by the way?”

Maria glanced down at it. She was still lounging on her bed and had it elevated on pillows, but there was definitely some noticeable improvement. It wasn’t nearly as swollen as it had been that morning, and she was to the point where she could put some weight on it again. It was by no means completely recovered, but ever since that shower with Michael . . .

“Oh my god,” she said, shaking her head as she thought back to that.

“You’re ankle’s . . . oh my god?” Tess questioned.

“No, I mean . . .” She trailed off, stumbling over her words as she tried to say them. “Okay, this is gonna sound totally bizarre since Michael and I are both seeing people, but we kinda . . . took a shower together. Today.”

“You what?” Tess shrieked.

“No, I mean, it wasn’t like soapy, slippery fun or anything,” Maria quickly explained. “I was in the shower, and my ankle gave out, and Michael came in and helped me up and . . .”

“Conveniently managed to shower with you?”

Maria sighed. “I told you it sounds bizarre.”

“Was he naked?”

“No.”

“Were you?”

“Well, obviously.”

Tess laughed and said, “Oh, that is so messed up on so many levels. I love it.”

“Honestly, I think he was just trying to help,” Maria insisted. “And it did help. Ever since then, my ankle’s been feeling a lot better.”

“Hmm, a semi-nude shower with magical healing powers,” Tess remarked. “Sounds sexy.”

“I don’t know if that’s the right word,” Maria pondered. “It was more . . .” She took a moment to think back, to recall the feel of his arms wrapped around her, holding her, to recall the sensation of her rapidly beating heart. “Okay, I’m not a romantic person,” she went on to say, “and neither is Michael. Yet here was this moment that was totally the most romantic experience of my life.”

Tess laughed and said, “God, you two are so meant to be together, it’s not even funny.”

“Well, if we were meant to be together, wouldn’t we be together already?” Maria shook her head. “I don’t even know if I believe in that crap.”

“You’re cynical and psychotic, Maria. Add those together, and what do you get? Stubbornness. And that goes for Michael, too.”

Maria wrinkled her forehead in confusion. “Okay, translate that for those of us whose IQ isn’t on the rise.”

“I’m basically saying you and Michael are unreasonably determined not to have a romantic relationship together, but everyone knows it’s gonna happen.”

Just then, Max knocked lightly on the door and poked his head into the room. Not everyone, Maria thought. “I’m gonna call you back, Tess, bye,” she said hurriedly, hanging up the phone at once. “Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” he said, coming to sit down on the side of her bed.

“How you doin’?” she asked.

“Better,” he replied. “I still can’t believe I said those things to my parents.”

“Max, you didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me. I’m a wrong-doings expert. I know all about it.”

He smiled and said, “You know, I’ve been wanting to stand up to them for eighteen years. And I finally did.”

“I’m proud of you,” she said, and she meant it.

“Thanks.” He sighed and stood up again. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announced.

“Okay.”

“You wanna . . . join me?”

For a moment, she just stared at him. Of all the days in his life that he could have asked her that, it had to be that particular day, the day that she’d showered and had “the most romantic experience” of her life with someone else. It was ironic, and it was horrible. The guilt was almost too much. It was piling on, and she wanted to do something about it. She wanted to.

But she didn’t.

“Actually, I took one earlier today, so . . .”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Max nodded and headed for the door. He stopped, though, before stepping out into the hallway, and turned back around to face her. “Maria?”

“Hmm?” He knows, she thought frantically. He knows something. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or horrified.

But when he spoke again, she realized she should have known better. He didn’t know or suspect anything. He was too trusting like that.

“When I go see my parents tomorrow, will you come with me? I realize it’s not the most fun way to spend an afternoon, but . . . I think it’d be a lot easier if we do it together.”

Great. More Phillip and Diane Evans, she thought. But she couldn’t very well say no. Max wouldn’t have even hesitated if she’d asked him to fly halfway across the world to visit her mom on her mission trip in Africa. Of course, she would never do that, but . . . “Sure,” she replied. “I’m there.”

“Great.” He smiled and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

She sighed in distress and raked her hands through her hair. Every day she got in deeper and deeper with Max; and the deeper she got, the harder it was going to be to get out. And she had to do that eventually . . .

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

Although she must have informed him about it a hundred times in advance, Michael forgot that Liz was going home that weekend. But he pretended like he’d remembered and drove her to the airport that day so she could catch her early morning flight home to Nebraska.

“It seems kind of pointless, going home for just a few days,” she acknowledged. “I’d rather stay here with you, but . . . I know my parents. They won’t ever say it out loud, but they’re feeling some separation anxiety.”

“Oh, parents. Good old parents.”

“Yeah.” She smiled and said, “I guess I lucked out. First meeting Maria’s mom and now Max’s parents . . . they’re, like, no-holds-barred vicious.”

“Yeah, your mom and dad are great,” Michael agreed. “Tell ‘em I said hi.”

“I will,” she said. “Of course, if you wanted to come with me . . .”

“Oh, I like your parents, Liz, but I will never like airplanes.”

She laughed and little and rose up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on a cheek. Then she pressed her head against his chest, hugged him, and said, “I’m so glad we worked things out last night.”

He nodded his head. Actually, they’d worked things out three times.

“I promise I’ll try not to be an insane girlfriend anymore,” she vowed. “I just . . . I don’t know. You’re my first boyfriend, and I’m your first girlfriend, so I guess I shouldn’t expect everything to be perfect.”

He just nodded and decided to keep his mouth shut. Liz was sort of apologizing to him. Any time a girl did that . . . awesome.

“Okay,” she said, rising up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek once more. “See you Monday.”

“Bye.” He gave her a quick pat on the butt as she skipped off to get in line at the security checkpoint. He waved goodbye to her and headed back through the airport, over into the parking garage toward his car. It was pretty much just his car now, because Kyle was about to buy a new one for himself and Tess. Kyle and Tess were going house hunting that afternoon, too. They wanted a place that was all theirs.

It was sort of weird. College was almost over . . .

Before he could get too ridiculously nostalgic, Michael took out his cell phone and dialed Maria’s number. He waited for her to pick up as he reversed the car out of the parking spot and drove through the parking garage toward the exit.

“Hello?”

He grinned and turned out onto the street. “How’s my little slut?”

“Your little slut?”

“Big slut?”

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes and smiling, only semi-annoyed. “Do you honestly think I’m your ‘big slut’?”

“It’s a fact of life. Every girl is,” he replied.

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“What does Liz think about that?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know. She’s too busy flyin’ back to corn country for the weekend to do much thinkin’.”

“She is?”

“Yep. Just dropped her off at the airport.”

“Three whole days without Liz Parker. My heart expands.”

“Shut up.” He veered right onto an entrance ramp for Interstate 84 and asked her, “So, uh, how much did you miss me last night?”

“I . . . didn’t miss you at all,” she replied unconvincingly. “No, quite the opposite, really. I enjoyed the peace and quiet while you were gone.”

Peace and quiet my ass, he thought. “You missed me.”

“I did not!”

“You lie.”

“Screw you.”

He chuckled. Even after eight years, he never got tired of doing this little dance, teasing Maria, getting her all worked up. It was his favorite thing.

“Well . . . okay, fine, maybe I was a little bored,” she acknowledged. “Kyle fell asleep early, and Max was studying for his finals tomorrow.”

“He’s got more finals tomorrow?”

“Yeah, two of ‘em.”

“Sucks.”

“I know. My finals don’t start until next week.”

“Poor, poor studious Maxwell,” Michael said. It probably was a really horrible time for him to have to study and take his tests, since his parents had shown up out of the blue the way overbearing parents tended to. “You’re not studying yet, are you?” he asked Maria.

“Hell no. I’ll study for my finals the night before I have to take them.”

“Crammin’. I like it. Hey, so, uh . . .” He quickly merged over into the left lane and then said, “We should skip class again and not study and hang out.”

“Don’t we always hang out?”

“Yeah, but . . .” He shrugged. “Alright, I’m puttin’ my foot down. We’re hangin’ out. You, me, and my video camera.”

“Sounds like kinky business to me,” she teased.

“Oh, in your dreams, DeLuca.” He closed his phone, smiling, and stuffed it into his pocket. Well, he thought, maybe in my dreams, too.

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

Michael sat on Maria’s bed, leaning back against the headboard, fiddling around with his video camera. One of these days, he was going to have to break down and buy a real one, the kind real directors used to make real movies. But until he saved up enough money, which, knowing him, he probably never would, his little hand-held recorder was going to have to do. It worked, got the job done. And it helped that he had a crazy subject to film.

He lifted the camera to focus on Maria. She wasn’t doing much, for once, sitting at her desk in her pajamas, doing some stuff on the computer. Lots of MySpace and Facebook.

“How many friends you got?” he asked.

“On MySpace?”

“Yeah.”

“More than you.”

“I don’t even go on MySpace anymore. Too many kids tryin’ to pass as adults.” He shook his head, remembering a time a few years ago when he’d suggested meeting up and having sex to an eighteen year-old girl who’d turned out to be fourteen. Needless to say, he’d passed on that one.

“Could you do something exciting?” he asked her.

“What?”

“I’m trying to make a movie. Come on, do something good.”

In response, she swung her right hand over her left shoulder and gave him the middle finger.

“Very classy,” he said.

“Like you care about classy,” she muttered.

She was right. He didn’t.

“Whoa . . .” she said suddenly.

“What?”

She leaned forward, hunched over a bit, and read something on the screen. “Weird. Come here.”

He stopped recording and set his camera down on the bed. “What’s so weird?” he asked, kneeling down beside her chair. “What’re you doing?”

“Stupid internet quizzes.”

“Baby, you waste your time so well.”

“I know. Okay, this one is called Color and Your Sexuality.”

“Color like . . . It’s Big, It’s Black?”

She cringed. “Is that a porn movie?”

“Maybe.”

She gave him a look.

“What? I don’t wanna direct ‘em. I never said I didn’t watch ‘em.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Well, how do you think I learned all my tricks of the trade, huh? When I was eleven, broke into my dad’s porn stash . . . sex god ever since.”

“Okay, lovely story, truly,” she said. “Back to the internet quiz . . .”

“Okay, back to the internet quiz.”

“You pick your favorite color out of all the colors here, and it’s supposed to mean something about your sexuality. So pick one.”

He looked over his choices for a moment. Pretty standard. Red, yellow, pink, purple, black, green, orange, brown, grey, blue, white. “Uh . . . probably red,” he decided.

“What?” she shrieked. “Red? You-you don’t even wear red.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not my favorite color. Come on, click on it.”

She sighed and clicked on the little red box, and a pop-up box came up.

“What’s it say?” Michael asked, squinting to see the words. “Man, I’m gettin’ old. I can’t read that.”

She cleared her throat and read his result off to him. “People who like red tend to be tigers in the sack.”

“Oh, that’s true,” he said, nodding.

“They are easily aroused and enjoy sex in every way imaginable.”

“Oh, that’s true, too.”

“Once the sexual spark is ignited, it may take hours to extinguish.”

“Oh, that’s definitely true.”

She rolled her eyes and kept reading. “When two reds get together, the ensuing erotica could make Lady Chatterly blush.”

“Nice.”

“Lovers of red tend to be aggressors in the sack, and weaker colors should be aware.”

“Wow,” he said. “I gotta tell you, Maria, I don’t think this is a stupid internet quiz. I think it’s smart. ‘Cause that was spot-on. That’s me. That’s my sexuality for sure.”

“You don’t even wear red,” she mumbled again, exiting out of the results window.

“What about you?” Michael asked. “What’d you pick?”

For a moment, she was silent. Then she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and muttered, “Red.”

He raised his eyebrows in interest. “Oh. And when two reds get together . . .” He grinned. “Wanna test that theory?”

“You can’t be serious.”

He sighed and said, “That’s right. I can’t be. ‘Cause you have Max. And I have Liz. And if we were to . . . that would be cheating.”

“And that would be bad,” she said. “And disgusting. I would never . . . with you.”

“Well, I would never . . . with you, either.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They fell into a rare period of silence after that, a silence in which Michael found himself continuing to wonder what it would be like if they ever got together with their over-the-top red sexualities. He’d always sort of wondered, but more so lately than ever before.

“Stupid internet quiz,” Maria said again, promptly exiting out of that webpage.

Michael heard the front door open then, and thought it would be Max or Kyle back from class. But when Isabel and Alex walked into the room, he was a bit surprised. Those two had pretty much been in sexual seclusion ever since they’d officially started dating.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Maria said. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Isabel said, blushing. “We’ve been busy.”

Michael grinned. “Oh, I’ll bet.” He gave Alex a thumbs up. The poor guy had been waiting for this for so long, not only for Isabel, but also for losing his virginity. Now he’d accomplished both at once. Go figure.

“So,” Isabel said after a moment’s hesitation. “How’s Kyle?” She quickly turned to Alex and assured him, “Not that I still have feelings for him. I just . . . I do still care about him, and I feel really bad about the way things went down.”

“Oh, yeah, Kyle’s . . fine, actually,” Maria informed her. “Not that he had, like, zero feelings for you or anything. It’s just . . . he still has Tess and . . .”

Isabel nodded and proclaimed, “It’s good. Everything’s finally as it should be.”

“Well, almost everything,” Alex muttered, sending Michael a pointed look.

But Michael was confused. What exactly was the point of that look? “Why are you lookin’ at me?” he asked. “I don’t get you, man.”

Alex sighed, rubbed his forehead, and asked mumbled under his breath, “Oh, why do I even try?”

Maria didn’t seem to get it, either, because she started up a new course of conversation. “So, now that the newly-dating acquaintance sex has worn off, are we gonna be seeing more of you guys?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s worn off,” Isabel said, squeezing Alex’s arm, “but yeah, we’ll try to be around more, assuming it doesn’t get too weird with Kyle and Tess.”

“It won’t,” Maria assured her. “Tess told me she’s really happy for you guys, and deep down, Kyle’s okay with it, too.”

“Good,” Isabel said. “Everything’s good.”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael said sarcastically. “AIDS in Africa. War in Iraq. Another season of America’s Next Top Model coming up. Everything’s great.”

Both Isabel and Maria rolled their eyes, and Maria said, “You’re such a dumb-ass.”

“I don’t see you keepin’ up on current events.”

“‘Cause they’re boring.”

“You’re boring.”

“Oh, yeah, that must be why you’re making the Maria DeLuca movie.”

“The Maria DeLuca movie?” Alex cut in. “I knew it.”

“I knew it, too,” Isabel said smiling. “How far along is it?”

“Uh . . . not far,” he answered honestly.

“Yeah, my movie kind of came to a screeching halt, too,” Alex admitted. “Even though everything’s good, I still can’t picture Kyle acting in front of my camera.”

“I can’t picture Kyle acting at all,” Maria said.

“True. He’s really bad,” Isabel said, laughing. “Actually, we came by because we were kinda wondering if you two might wanna be in Alex’s movie . . .”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it,” Michael answered at once.

“Too busy,” was Maria’s reply.

“Too busy?” Isabel echoed. “Doing what, MySpace?”

“Actually, smart internet quizzes,” Michael explained. “We just did . . . what was it called?”

“Color and Your Sexuality,” Maria filled in. “You guys wanna do it?” she asked Isabel and Alex.

“Uh . . . if we take your color quiz, will you act in my movie?” Alex asked hopefully.

“Nope,” Michael and Maria both answered in unison.

“Dammit,” he said. “Alright, well, we’ll take your quiz anyway.”

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

Max glanced at the digital clock in between the two beds at his parents’ lavish hotel room again. 2:45. He and Maria had made arrangements to meet up at the hotel at 2:00 to sit down and talk to his parents. Maria wasn’t exactly punctual, but this was really late even for her.

“What was it?” his mother asked insensitively. “Lack of communication, or she just doesn’t care to be here?”

“No, she’ll be here,” Max assured her.

“I doubt it, Max,” his father grumbled. “I hate do disappoint you, but that girl is no match for you or this family.”

“That girl?” Max echoed. “She’s not . . . she’s not just some girl, okay? She’s my girlfriend, and she’s one of the few true friends that I have. She never cared if I was a geek or a loner. First day of high school, she sat by me on the bus, and I knew she was the one for me.”

“But she’s not the one for you, sweetie,” his mother insisted.

“She is! Why do you . . . would you stop saying that?”

But his mother just kept on. “Max, we care about you and we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“What makes you think she’s gonna hurt me?”

“She won’t stay with you,” his father proclaimed. “Whatever you are to her, it’s not love.”

“She told me she loves me!”

His father shook his head sadly. “That doesn’t mean she does.”

“Then why would she say it?” Max was about to lose it. He didn’t want to say anything he’d regret, so he decided to pick up his things and leave. “Alright, you guys can think whatever you want,” he said as he slung his backpack over his shoulders. “I know Maria, I love Maria, and I’m gonna be with Maria. I don’t care if you guys don’t like it. I’m done being the son you want me to be.” He stomped towards the door.

“Max, wait,” his mother tried.

“Mom, leave me alone.” He glared at the two of them and walked out of the room. His whole life . . . his whole life, they’d told him what to do, and he’d always done it. He’d been the perfect son, and how did they repay him? By bashing Maria? No, that just wasn’t okay with him.

He didn’t want it to come down to a decision, a choice between his parents and Maria, but if he had to choose . . . it was no contest.

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

“Lovers of blue are wonderful sex partners. They are affectionate and sensitive to their partner’s needs. They consider lovemaking a fine art and their approach is elegant.” Maria cast a sideways glance at Isabel and Alex and asked, “Is that true?”

They both nodded and replied, “Yep. Definitely.”

She smiled and read on. “Men who love blue are like concert pianists, delicately ravaging their partner like they would play a baby grand.”

“That’s true, too,” Isabel said.

“And she always makes beautiful music,” Alex added with a grin.

“Hey!’

“Don’t be ashamed; be proud.”

Maria laughed. “Okay, wait a minute, wait a minute, there’s more. Women in the blue category enjoy sex to the fullest. They are exciting partners, but their passion may be compared to a tidal wave rather than fiery aggression.”

Isabel smiled. “I’m like a tidal wave.”

“That you are.”

“Both women and men enjoy foreplay and the aftermath of lovemaking as much as the sex act itself,” Maria finished up. “In marriage, a blue person is a wonderful mate, never seeking outside interests.” She gave her two friends a raised-eyebrow look. “There you go.”

“Well, we just started dating,” Isabel reminded her. “Literally like a few days ago. Plus, I’m all of twenty years old.”

“Oh, you’re never too young to get married,” Maria said. “I had a cousin who got married when she was sixteen.”

“And where is she now?” Isabel asked. “Still married?”

“Uh . . . actually in the New York ghetto with five kids and no husband.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah. So maybe that was too young to get married,” she acknowledged.

Michael cleared his throat and offered up his opinion. “I don’t think people should get married.”

“Why not?” Isabel asked him.

“Because wedding’s are boring and expensive.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “He’s such a romantic.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, when you and Max tie the knot . . .”

“What?”

“Well, if you guys do someday, I better be the best man and the ceremony better not last longer than twenty minutes. Actually, if you could get it down under ten . . . even better.”

“Uh . . . okay,” she said, not really sure how to respond to that. She was not going to get married to Max and more than he was going to get married to Liz.

Suddenly, she started having horrible visions of Michael and Liz standing at the altar, kissing, and her just sitting there watching and being jealous. It was horrible. Just a horrible depiction of a future that didn’t make any sense. And hopefully a future that wouldn’t happen, because . . . it was just wrong on so many levels.

Thankfully, her cell phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She answered it readily. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Max. How’d your finals go?”

“Fine,” he answered. “Can’t say the same for the talk with my parents, though.”

His parents . . . “Oh, shit,” she said, pressing her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Max. I totally forgot about that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was supposed to be there.” Bring on even more guilt, she thought. “I’m so sorry, Max. I just lost track of time.”

“No, actually, it’s probably good you weren’t there. They . . . weren’t very nice.”

“There’s a shock.” She still felt bad. She was the flaky girlfriend, the one who didn’t follow through with what she said she was going to do. Max deserved better than that.

“Anyway, I’m on my way to the tutoring center for awhile, then I’ll be home,” he told her.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you. Bye.”

She winced as he ended the call. Love you. Two nice words coming from a nice guy, but they made her feel worse rather than better.

She closed her phone, and Michael asked, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“‘Cause you wrinkled your forehead and looked weird.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “I just forgot I was supposed to go see Max’s parents and I feel bad about it.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d be real devastated. Don’t wanna miss that fun time.”

“Wait, wait a minute,” Isabel said. “My parents are here?”

“Uh, yeah,” Maria replied. “And they’re really pissed ‘cause of me and Max.”

“Oh my god,” Isabel gasped. “If they ask where I am, say, like, Siberia or something.”

“Actually, we had ‘em over for dinner last night,” Michael told her. “They know you’re not dating Kyle anymore.”

“Oh. And does happiness ensue or the inevitable, constant disappointment?”

Maria shrugged. “I’d like to say happiness, but . . . are your parents ever happy?”

“Nope.” Isabel looked over at Alex. “Are you sure you wanna date me? My parents are likely to kill you.”

Alex chuckled and put an arm around her. “I’ll take my chances.”

Wow, they're so happy together, Maria thought, smiling a little. I'm so . . . envious.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Krista (x2!):

She seems to really care for him, but I mean, how do you break someone's heart who's been one of your best friends for 8 years?

And this is exactly the question Maria’s asking herself. She’s gotten herself into this bad situation, and now there’s no nice, clear-cut way out of it. What she would really like to do is end the relationship without hurting Max, but at this point, that’s impossible.
nibbles:

It kills me when Michael does sweet romantic stuff for Liz. Every time it happens a piece of my candy heart dies.

Oh, it can be revived.
killjoy (x3!):

If that panned out to be true than that would make Max the biggest manipulator of the whole bunch and we never saw it coming....because we were expecting it to be either Liz,Michael or Maria

Well, I guess it will all depend on how you view the story who the “biggest manipulator” is, but in my mind, nobody even stands a chance against Maria.
Alien_Friend:

Liz though, she's a little too desperate. She knows Michael's heart isn't into the relationship just let him go. But i get why she doesn't want to though.

Yep, Liz is really going through some internal conflict right now. Part of her wants to just forget about Michael, but a part of her still wants to cling to him. She’s desperately seeking some reassurance that they’re relationship is real (even though it’s kinda . . . not.)
Tine:

how can he let Maria get away so easily for missing the meeting with his parents? I guess I'll never understand that guy...

I’ll admit, Max is a little confusing. He’s finally reached the point in his life where he’s able to stand up to his parents and give them a piece of his mind, but he still isn’t able to stand up to Maria for anything she does wrong. He lets her get away with things because he’s so infatuated with her. Like killjoy stated, he has a huge blind spot when it comes to her.
Christina:

I'm also curious to see who Alex will be able to get to star in his film. It'd be quite interesting to see Michael and Maria star in it, but at the same time it'd also be interesting if Max and Liz were to do it.

Actually, none of Alex’s friends are going to be starring in his movie. He’s going to be a little busy with Isabel so he might just have to pull a Michael Guerin and throw something together at last minute.
tequathisy:

Up until now I have had no sympathy for Maria for being trapped in a relationship with Max and I've only felt sympathy for Max. But that's changed. I think that Maria would have ended things with him by now if he didn't keep manipulating her the way he does.

You know, this is a good observation. In all fairness to Max, he isn’t manipulating Maria the way she’s manipulating him. Maria is well aware of what she’s doing. Everything she does with Max is deliberate and purposeful. When Max tells Maria he loves her and tells her that everything will be okay as long as he’s with her and gives her those promise rings . . . he’s sort of subconsciously manipulating her. He doesn’t really know he’s doing it, but he is.
crazysnape: Well, you’ll be happy to know that you are on page . . . 857!
Vael:

Can't help but feel that Max is about to cause more problems

It’s possible. That’s all I’m saying.
Brie: Thanks, I’m glad you liked it!
Sara:

I like that Liz is SLOWLY gaining a backbone. I think she will come out of this whole experience a better person. She may not be a good person right now, but I have high hopes for her.

Really? Well, that’s good. I know you haven’t been a fan of hers, so if you have high hopes for her, then she’s not a lost cause.
mrs_guerin: Thanks for reading!
Ashley: Max is definitely a piece of work. The thing is, Maria is the only girl who's ever shown an "interest" in him. He thinks it's a real romantic interest, even though it's not. Plus, he's had this huge crush on her for years and years . . . he's desperate. He's ignoring what he sees with his eyes, the obvious connection between Michael and Maria, and going with what he feels in his heart, hoping she feels the same thing. It kind of sucks to be him.





So now I have some very good news: I now know exactly how many chapters you have until Michael and Maria finally kiss. I've even gotten mathematical and figured out exactly what date that update is going to fall on. But of course I'm not telling anybody anything, so don't even ask!









Part 85









That night, Maria, Michael, Kyle, and Tess congregated in the living room, broke out an old board game—Candyland, to be exact—and, for whatever reason, started playing it. Perfectly good Friday night, and . . . Candyland. Maria didn’t exactly understand it herself, but they were all having a pretty good time. That was all that mattered.

“I haven’t played this in, like, forever,” Tess said. She clapped her hands when she drew her next card and exclaimed, “Ooh, I get to visit Queen Frostine’s iceberg.”

“How exciting,” Michael muttered. “Remind me why the hell we’re playin’ this again?”

“Uh, because we’re too lazy to go out and we’re really bored,” Kyle offered.

“I think it’s kind of fun,” Maria said. “It’s colorful, activates my sweet tooth. Plus, there’s no reading, which is always a thumbs-up in my book. Okay, Kyle, your turn.”

He drew a card from the deck and cursed. “Dammit, I’m still stuck in that Molasses Swamp.”

“Oh, yea, it’s my turn then,” Maria chirped. She drew her card from the top of the deck. It was a blue square card, so she moved her gingerbread-man playing piece to the nearest blue square. “Ooh,” she said as she noted how close she was to the finishing point. “Speedy Gonzalez. That’s me. Halla! Try to keep up, bitches.”

Michael smiled and shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

“And, oh, look, who do we have way back here, practically at the start?” she teased. “Michael. Look at that. You’re a loser, Michael. You lose. You’re losing.”

“Honestly, I think you’re cheating, Maria,” Kyle cut in.

“What, on Max?” she shrieked, not thinking about the context in which Kyle had spoken. “No, I would never--”

“Actually, I was talking about the game,” Kyle explained.

“Oh. Well . . . no! I’m not. How could I cheat at Candyland?”

“I don’t know, but . . . I bet you are.”

“I bet she is, too,” Michael said, absentmindedly poking her in the side with his foot. “Girl’s got no morals.”

“Oh, and what, you’re, like, Moral King over here?” she spat back. “Give me a break. I’m not cheating. I’m just winning. And you guys are sore losers.”

“I’m not gonna lose,” Michael said. “I’m gonna come on stronger than ever at the end, just like I do in bed, and drive it home."

“Uh-uh, not gonna happen,” she promised. She rubbed her hands together excitedly and said with a huge, goofy smile on her face, “I’m gonna kick your ass and take such sweet pleasure in doing it.”

“Oh, you would take pleasure in that. Not as much pleasure as you’d take in being down on your knees, but . . .”

“Oh! Kay, shut up.” She swatted at his foot and said, “Would you stop poking me with your smelly foot?”

He grinned. “Would you rather I poke you with something else?”

“Oh my god!” she shrieked. “That was your first penis reference of the day, wasn’t it? I should’ve—I should’ve known it was coming, because God forbid we go a day without one of those.”

“God forbid,” he agreed.

“That was pretty funny,” Kyle said, smiling.

“It was funny,” Tess agreed. “Sorry, Maria, but it was.”

“Oh, whatever,” she said. “Just take your turn, Michael. Seriously.”

Just as he was reaching for his card, the front door opened and Max came in. He looked exhausted.

“Hey, Max,” Maria said.

“Hey,” he returned. “Sorry, I ran late at the tutor center.”

“Make anyone smarter today?” Kyle asked.

“I’d like to think so,” Max said as he kicked off his shoes. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Playing Candyland,” Tess chirped, smiling. “It’s like we’re four year-olds again, only with sexual experience.”

“Amen to that,” Kyle said. “You wanna join us, Max?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Max replied. “My finals are done. Don't have to study. Why not?”

“Hold that thought,” Tess said, getting to her feet. “I have to pee.”

“Oh, great,” Kyle mumbled. “Guerin, better go make some popcorn. We could be waitin’ here awhile.”

“What do you mean?” Tess asked.

“I mean you take forever to pee,” Kyle told her.

“What?”

“Yeah. You have a weird bladder.”

“It’ll take me two minutes, tops.”

“No, it’ll take you ten.”

She grunted. “Okay, you insulted my bladder; you are not getting sex tonight.”

“What?” Kyle said, immediately looking frightened. “No. Honey, I love your bladder.”

“No sex,” she repeated as she headed down the hallway and went into the bathroom.

“Don’t worry, Kyle,” Maria assured her friend. “I can’t really see her adhering to that. Ooh, adhering. Listen to my vocab.”

“Everybody says ‘adhering,’ Maria,” Michael informed her.

“You’ve never said it.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m-I’m too cool to say it, Maria. I’m too cool. I’m just too cool for everything.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right.” She got up off the couch and said, “Max, come with me for a minute.”

“Um, okay.”

She went into her bedroom, and he followed her. “Not a quickie, sorry,” she told him as she sat down at her computer. “Okay, you have to do this thing. Isabel and Alex and Kyle and Tess and Michael and I, we all did it today. It’s really cool. It’s this stupid little internet quiz. Color and Your Sexuality.”

“Oh,” Max said as he leaned against her desk and peered down at the screen. “Sounds insightful.”

“No, not really, but it’s kinda neat. Okay, so . . .” She typed in the webpage address and brought up the quiz. “Okay,” she said. “All you have to do is pick out your favorite color here, and it’s gonna tell you about your sexuality.”

“Okay,” Max said. “Um . . . well, I don’t know. I wear a lot of black. But actually green’s my favorite color.”

I didn’t know that, Maria thought as she clicked on the green color square. She didn’t know her boyfriend’s favorite color. She didn’t know Max’s favorite color, and she’d known him for eight years. There was no excuse for that. “Okay,” she said when the results window popped up. “It says . . . those who prefer green are fresh and innocent in their approach to sex.” She nodded, thinking that was about right. “Women who love green will always make love like virgins all their life.” She gave Max a look and said, “Liz.”

He laughed a little.

“And a man may always be a trifle clumsy and awkward,” she continued, “but in a charming and endearing sort of way.” She looked at Max again and smiled. That part was definitely true, too. Max wasn’t exactly always a smooth operator in the bedroom, but he always got the job done. Plus, he was getting better with experience. “Okay, green lovers are gentle,” she read, “but not . . . passionate.” She stopped there for a moment, dwelling on that sentence. That one was about the truest sentence of the bunch. Sure, maybe Max was passionate in his own way, but with the two of them . . . it just didn’t happen the way it did between her and Michael.

She realized she was staring lifelessly at the computer screen and quickly snapped herself out of it. “Oh, if chosen as a mate, one will never need worry about infidelity,” she finished up. “Well, that’s always a plus.”

“I’d say that’s all pretty accurate,” Max said. “Except I like to think I’m passionate.”

“Yeah,” she said. “You are. I mean, just look at the way you’ve thrown yourself into all your classes here at the university. Obviously that requires some, you know, passion.”

Max nodded and asked, “So what’d everyone else pick?”

“Well, Alex and Isabel picked blue,” she said, “which was, like, really good sex; but you probably don’t need to hear that word in connection with your sister.”

“Yet somehow, I always do.”

“And Tess picked blue, too, and Kyle picked brown, which said something like, sex is a 24 hour a day thing. And that suits him.”

“It does,” Max agreed. “What color did you pick? Red, right?”

Hmm, she thought. He sure knows my favorite color. “Yeah.”

“And what did the almighty Internet say about red sexuality?”

“Uh, well . . . sex freak, basically. Or more like sex enthusiast. I’d be appalled if I got anything else.”

He chuckled. “What about Michael?”

“Uh . . . he picked red, too,” she admitted quietly.

“Oh. Of course.”

“But, uh . . .” For some reason, she felt the compulsive need to lie to Max, so she did. “Actually, it said that two reds are really bad together. Like, it never works out because . . . because they always just screw it up, and everything ends badly . . . and they wish they’d never tried.” It hadn’t said that.

Before Max could say anything in reply, Maria heard the bathroom door open. Tess walked out, throwing her arms in the air and proudly announcing, “Three minutes!”

“It’s a new Tess record!” Kyle shouted from out in the living room. “Hot damn, throw a parade. It only took her three minutes to pee.”

“Now you’re not getting any sex for the rest of the week,” she told him.

“Yeah, right.”

Maria laughed a little. “I think Candyland awaits,” she said to Max.

“Alright, I gotta check my grades online really quick,” Max said. “I’m really anxious to see what I got on my biology final.”

“Is that the one you took on the night of my fatal ankle snap?”

“Yeah,” Max said. “That’s, uh . . . that’s the one.”

“You probably got, like, over a hundred,” Maria said. “Alright, well let me go win this game. By the time you’re done checking your perfect 4.0, we’ll be ready to start a new round.”

“Sounds good.”

They headed back out into the living room, and Max made a beeline for his bedroom. “Checking his grades,” Maria explained to the others.

“Oh,” Michael nodded. “I never do that.”

“Yeah, me, neither,” Kyle agreed.

“Shut up, you do that,” Tess said. “I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah, well . . . I’ve seen you sleep with your mouth open. Do I go around tellin’ people about that?”

“No sex for the whole month now, Kyle. Keep on going, you’ll be celibate for the rest of your life.”

“Not gonna happen,” he said confidently.

Maria sat down on the couch again, ready for Michael to take his turn, when she noticed that something was out of place on the game board. “Hey!” she shouted. “You . . . you moved my piece back a space!” She directed her anger at Michael, because she was sure he was the one who had moved it.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did! I was on the blue space before, I’m on the green one now.”

“Wow,” Michael said. “That is some strange phenomena.”

“I can’t believe—and you say I’m a cheater—you know what, you’re a dumb-ass!”

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

Max sat down at the computer and logged onto his university’s website. He had tried to act normal in front of Maria, but inside, he was freaking out. This final was no joke. It was fifty percent of his entire grade, and he really cared about his grades.

He logged in to his student account, navigated the confusing website like a pro, and clicked on the “View Grades” link. After that, he clicked on his biology class link, squinted his eyes, and held his breath while the grades came up. He scrolled down to the bottom of the page. There it was. Cumulative Final . . .

Fifteen percent?!

For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the screen in horror. He was sure his heart had stopped, because he couldn’t feel it beating anymore. Fifteen percent? That was just . . . that was unthinkable. Even stupid people who didn’t study didn’t get fifteen percents on their finals.

“No, no, no,” he said, feeling panic engulf him. “Oh god, no.” He’d known it would be bad. He hadn’t been expecting a great grade. But he hadn’t expected a grade that was probably the lowest in the class, either.

He scrolled down even further and took a look at his final grade for the class. Because he’d done so horribly on the final, he wasn’t even sure if he had passed. He’d only ended up accumulating 585 points out of a possible 900.

“Oh god, no,” he repeated, more emphatically this time as he did the math in his head. 585 divided by 900 . . . that was only a sixty-five percent. He needed a seventy percent to pass the class.

“I failed a class,” he whispered in horror. It was impossible. He was . . . he was the valedictorian. He tutored other kids in biology. He led study groups. The degree he was about to get was a degree in Microbiology. He was going to graduate school. He wasn’t supposed to have failed.

He literally felt sick to his stomach. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to turn back the clock, go back to that examination period, and sit and take his time on the questions. Maria would have forgiven him for not making it to her audition on time. Actually, she probably wouldn’t have even cared because of her ankle injury. As it was, he hadn’t even gotten there on time anyway. He’d rushed through his final, hurried to Maria’s audition, and the minute he’d opened the doors to the auditorium and saw her on the stage, she fell.

It had all been for nothing.

“Oh . . . god.” He leaned back and raked his hands through his hair. All his life, he’d done everything right. And now he’d really screwed up.

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his sister’s number. On the third ring, she answered.

“Hello? Oh, Alex, stop, I’m on the phone.”

“Isabel?”

“Max?” She sounded surprised to hear him. “Are you . . . calling me?”

Phone conversations. They didn’t usually do those. “You heard that Mom and Dad are in town, didn’t you?”

She groaned. “Yeah, unfortunately. I’m trying to steer clear of them like I always do.”

“Well, I don’t think you have to. Actually, you’re probably the good kid now.”

“What-what do you mean? Is this about you and Maria?”

“Well, yeah. Plus, I, uh . . . failed one of my finals.”

“You what?” she shrieked.

“My biology final.”

“What?” she said again. “Okay, Alex, stop, this is . . . oh my god, Max. You failed a final—you failed your biology final?”

“Yeah, I got a . . . fifteen percent.”

“What? Oh my god, Max!”

“Yeah.”

“Were you high?”

“No.”

“Then . . . why? How?”

“It’s complicated,” he said, not wanting to delve into the reason why he’d been in such a hurry that night. “Look, I just thought you should know you’re not the black sheep of the family anymore. Now that title belongs to me.”

“Max--”

Still mortified, he closed his phone and slowly set it down on his desk. His grades were still up on the computer screen in front of him. Fifteen percent on the final exam. Sixty-five percent in the class. Failure.

He sighed heavily, so disappointed with himself. He supposed now that he’d written that valedictorian speech for nothing. There was no way he was going to be first in the graduating class now.

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

Maria sat back on the couch, defeated. “I can’t believe you won.”

Michael smirked. “I told you I’d come on strong at the end.”

“Yeah, but . . . you beat me. That is so wrong.”

“Feels pretty right to me.” He raised his arms in the air and exclaimed, “The Conqueror, ladies and gentlemen!”

“Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes.

“I gotta hand it to you, Michael,” Tess said. “Candyland has never seen game-playing like that before.”

“I know. I’m a rock star.”

“Oh, yeah, well get ready to lose in round two, rock star,” Maria taunted. “‘Cause I’m takin’ it.”

“Bring it on.”

“Oh, it’s already been . . . brung.”

“That’s not a word,” Kyle informed her.

“It’s not?”

“I don’t think so. Is that a word, Max?”

No answer.

Kyle looked around. “Max?” He gestured to his closed bedroom door and asked Maria, “Is he still checkin’ his grades?”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”

“He’s been in there for ten minutes,” Tess pointed out. “Can you say masturbator?”

Maria frowned. That was a little strange, even for Max. “Max!” she called.

“Oh, Mr. Maxie?” Tess chimed in.

“Maxwell!” Michael bellowed.

“Evans, you still alive?” Kyle asked. None of them got any sort of reply, so Kyle supposed, “Maybe he’s dead.”

“I’ll go check on him,” Maria said. She got to her feet and walked into Max’s room, barely even limping on her ankle anymore. “Max, what’re you doing?” she asked. He was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. He looked up when she walked in, and she noticed tear-tracks on his face. “Max?” she squeaked out. “Are you . . . crying?”

He wiped the tears from his cheeks and said, “I’m alright.”

“No, you’re not.” She went in closer to him and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he answered, though obviously it was something.

“Max . . .”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

The fact that he didn’t think he could talk to her about something important spoke volumes, but she made her best effort to get him to spill his guts anyway. “Come on, Max,” she urged. “If you’re not gonna tell me, who are you gonna tell?”

He considered that for a moment and shrugged. “Well, alright. I, uh . . . I failed my final.”

She frowned. Max Evans, failing a final? Max Evans failing anything? That wasn’t the way the world worked. “No, you didn’t,” she said.

“Yeah, I did. My biology final. I got a fifteen percent.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the shock off her face after hearing that. A fifteen percent. That was really . . . even she had never gotten a fifteen percent before, and she was only about a sixteenth as book-smart as he was. “Wow, um . . .” She didn’t really know what to say, so she just asked, “How’d that happen? I thought you studied a lot for that one.”

“Yeah, but . . . I kinda rushed through it,” he confessed.

“Well, why would you . . .” She trailed off when it dawned on her. He was talking about the final he’d taken on the night of her MDA audition. He’d rushed through it for her. “Oh my god,” she said. “Max, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Whether it was or not, she still didn’t feel better about it. All she could feel was guilt, more than she ever thought possible. She thought she couldn’t feel any guiltier, yet she did. Guilty about letting Max believe she loved him romantically, guilty about causing conflict between him and his parents, guilty for forgetting about meeting up with him that afternoon, guilty for not knowing that green was his favorite color, and especially guilty for this. He’d rushed through that final for her, and what did she do for him? She lied to him. She led him on.

“Actually, I ended up failing the class,” he admitted.

“What?” Now she felt as though she were about to cry, because just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse . . . “Oh my god. This is totally my fault.”

“No, it’s mine. I have no one to blame but myself, and I don’t want you thinking it’s your fault.”

“But Max . . . are you still gonna graduate?”

“Oh, yeah. Luckily, I didn’t really need that class. I was just taking it for fun.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“But it’s still gonna bring down my GPA a lot, so I can pretty much bet that Arlene Ross is gonna be giving a valedictorian speech at graduation.”

“Who’s Arlene Ross?”

“The salutatorian. Something tells me she didn’t fail any of her classes.”

Maria sighed and apologized yet again. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

“No, Maria, what did I say? It’s not your fault.”

“I feel like it is.”

“But it’s not. And . . . and I shouldn’t be sittin’ here crying about it. That’s not gonna change anything. What’s done is done, and I’m just gonna have to live with it. And my parents are gonna have to live with it, too. They can . . . they can disown me, never talk to me again. I don’t care.”

“You do care, Max.” That much was obvious.

“Well . . . yeah, but . . .”

She sighed again and leaned back against his desk. She ran her hand through her hair and muttered, “I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“What? No, Maria.”

“I am,” she insisted. “I feel like I’m screwing up your life.”

“You could never do that.”

“But . . . come on, Max. You worked so hard to be valedictorian.”

“And I could’ve worked harder.” He got to his feet and stood before. “Hey. None of it matters.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then why were you crying?”

“Because . . . alright, it matters, but not nearly as much as you do.” He smiled encouragingly, even though she should have been the one encouraging him, and said, “Come here,” as he opened up his arms and hugged her.

She reluctantly hugged him, feeling all sorts of confusion. I can’t do this much longer, she thought. Not only for my sake, but for his.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

I'm not going to have time to update later, so I figured I would post this update a few hours early. And you guys probably already know that the next update will be Monday. Anyway, enjoy this part (it's sort of important, and you'll see why.) And know that the kiss is coming . . . soon. And that's all I'm saying about that! You won't pry another word out of these locked lips!

Thank you for the awesome feedback to:

nibbles
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Part 86









“Michael.”

He could hear his name being said, he could hear her beautiful, agitated voice saying it, but he was too tired to open his eyes, so he just lay in bed and tried to keep sleeping.

“Michael.”

He wasn’t waking up. Nope, not even for her.

“Seriously, Michael, wake up.” She hit his shoulder.

“Who’s your daddy?” he joked, not all that aware of what he was saying in his half-asleep state. All he knew was that he was sort of still having a sex dream, and those were the best.

“Oh my god, Michael, come on. Wakey, wakey. Hands off snakey.”

He grinned. “Snakey.”

“Michael!”

The shrillness accompanying his name that time was too much for anyone to sleep through. He rolled over onto his back and groaned, still refusing to open his eyes. “Damn, baby, what do you want?”

“I want you to wake up.” She hit him in the stomach with her fist.

“Ow.” Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked up at her. “What time is it? Like 6:00 in the morning?”

“Noon, loser.”

“Oh.” He glanced at the clock. 11:59. She was right. “I should sleep for a living or something.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“Or have sex for a living,” he pondered, closing his eyes again. “That would pretty much make me a prostitute, but . . .”

“Well, if the boot fits,” she said. “Come on, don’t go back to sleep. I need you to get up.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve decided it’s job hunt day, and you need to drive me around.”

“Drive yourself.”

“Come on, Michael,” she whined. “It’ll be boring if I go by myself.”

“Take Max,” he suggested. Max had probably woken up hours ago.

“No, trust me, Max has . . . enough stress to deal with right now. He doesn’t need me pestering him to be my chauffeur for the day.”

“And I do?”

“You bet your ass you do. Your day would be so incomplete without your Maria-time, you’d sink into a depression or something.” She smiled and whacked him on the shoulder again. “Come on, get up.”

He groaned as she left the room and decided he would get five more minutes of sleep before he woke up and spent the day with her. Because he knew that was what he would end up doing. He always did.

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

“Okay, just turn right up here.”

Michael took a look at the street signs as they drove up to the intersection and said, “I can’t, it’s one way.”

“Well, turn anyway.”

He sighed and turned left instead. “Man, you are so lucky I’m driving.”

She looked at her map again and grumbled, “Why are maps so god-damned hard to read?”

“Why are women so unable to read them?” he wondered in response.

“Oh, you shut up,” she snapped. “I can read a map. Unlike you, I can even read a book.”

“Oh, yeah, what was the last book you read?”

“My psychology book. What about you?”

He grinned. “101 Sex Positions for the Pros.”

“Figures,” she remarked. “I wanna read that.”

“You probably know all of ‘em already. I did.”

Still, she seemed interested. “What were some of them?”

“Oh, you know, Wheelbarrow. 77. The Buffalo Hump.”

“There’s a position called the Buffalo Hump?”

“Yeah.”

“Nasty.”

He laughed. “I know.”

She laughed, too, for a moment, then stopped suddenly and said, “Oh, shit, Michael, you were supposed to turn right there.”

“I was?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for telling me.” He slowed down and turned right at the next corner instead. “I thought you were looking for a job in Santa Fe, not Canada,” he remarked.

“It’s, like, on the outskirts of Santa Fe. It’s this little privately owned dance studio. I read in the paper that they were hiring instructors so . . . you never know. It’s not like Santa Fe’s a hotbed for a dancing career, and since MDA’s out of the question, I might have to take what I can get.”

“What if you have to dance today? What about your ankle?”

“I think it’s alright now,” she said. “It’d better be.”

He smiled. He smiled because it was a command, not a wish or a request that her ankle be better, but a command. She didn’t take shit from anybody or anything. Never had. He loved that about her.

“So you said Max was stressed out about something,” he reminded her, changing the subject.

“Yeah.”

He gave her a prompting look. “So what’s he stressed out about?”

She sighed and said, “I guess he’ll tell you soon anyway. It’s his biology final. He failed it.”

“No, he didn’t,” Michael said immediately.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Oh, yeah, and I just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Some stuff just doesn’t happen.”

“Michael . . .”

As the realization that she was serious gradually dawned on him, Michael took a minute to register the shock of it all. “What? How?”

“Rushed through it, guessed on the questions.”

“Why?”

She looked out the window, was silent for a moment, and then answered, “Because he trying to get to my audition on time.”

Oh, so it was that final. That made sense. Max would have done anything for Maria, moved mountains if he had to.

“It’s not your fault,” he told her.

“Yeah, but it feels like it.” She sighed and said, “He failed the class.”

“What?” More shock. That one sentence almost caused him to drive into the ditch.

“Yeah, the final was half his grade, and he got a fifteen percent on it, so . . .”

“Fifteen . . . fifteen percent?” he stuttered in disbelief. “Hell, I’ve never done that bad before.”

“I know, me neither. But Max . . . totally did.” She sighed again. “It’s not gonna keep him from graduating or anything, but it’s probably gonna keep him from being valedictorian and . . . oh, yeah, he’s gonna have to tell his parents about it.”

Michael grunted. “I don’t usually pray, but I’ll pray for him on that.”

She shook her head and said, “I think I’m ruining his life.”

“Nah, you’re not,” he quickly assured her. “You could never ruin anyone’s life, Maria.”

“Oh, don’t be too sure about that.”

“Well, you haven’t ruined my life,” he told her. “Actually, I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

She smiled. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t want to get too mushy, so he just said, “I mean, I’d be bored out of my mind. I’d have all these insults stored up, never be able to use ‘em. And I wouldn’t have anybody to talk to or hang out with all the time.”

“Or fantasize about,” she made sure to add.

He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t fantasize about you.”

“Everybody fantasizes about me.”

He stopped shaking his head. That was probably true. He’d had his fair share of sexual fantasies about Maria over the years, more so lately than ever before. “You fantasize about me, too,” he said confidently.

She didn’t deny it.

Oh, Maria DeLuca, you are so hot, he thought as he looked over at her. His eyes weren’t on the road, so when she shrieked, “Squirrel!” he immediately slammed on the brakes.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, holding a hand to her chest. “Thank God you didn’t hit it.”

“It’s just a squirrel.”

“Squirrels are cute, you ass!” She hit him on the arm.

“Are you gettin’ off on hittin’ me today, or what?”

“Shut up,” she said, looking down at her map again. “Okay, I think we need to turn left here . . . or right. Or maybe we should just go straight.”

“Give me that.” He snatched the map right out of her directionless hands.

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

Max got out of the car, slammed the door, and stormed towards the house. He’d told his parents about his biology class fiasco, and they’d freaked out as expected. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut, but honesty was one of his faults. His parents followed him home, though, and tried to follow him into the house.

“Max,” his mother called, hurrying towards the door. “Max, wait just a minute. You can’t drop a bombshell like that on us and just expect us to accept it.”

“There’s nothing to accept, Mom. I failed. That’s that.”

“Max, she’s right, let’s talk about this,” his father tried.

“What, talk about the fact that I’m not perfect? Well, I’m not. Deal with it.” He threw open the door and wished he could slam it in their faces, but he couldn’t do that. He realized that even though he was angry with them and yelling at them, part of him still wanted their approval. So he left the door open, and they came into the house.

“I think I see what the problem is, Max,” his mother said. “It’s clear that--”

“If you blame this on Maria, I will never speak to you again,” he warned her.

“I think all four of you are lacking adult guidance,” she said openly.

“Really? Because I think we’ve been doing just fine. We own a house, we pay our bills, we get along. What’s so bad about that?”

“You failed a class, son,” his father reminded him. “Your chances of being valedictorian now are slim to none.”

“Who cares?”

“You care.”

He sighed. His father was right about that. He did care. He always would. If he didn’t get to stand up on stage at graduation and deliver his valedictorian speech, it would suck beyond the telling of it. But it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

His mother approached him slowly and said, “Maybe if we stay for awhile . . .”

Before Max could shoot down that idea himself, Kyle came upstairs and did it for him. “Stay?” He shook his head as he neared them and said, “I’m sorry, but that is not happening.”

“Kyle, this doesn’t pertain to you,” Phillip warned.

“No, it does pertain to me, because you’re in my house, and I don’t want you here. Nobody wants you here. You don’t like me, you don’t like Michael and Maria, and now you don’t even like your own son. As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t even be in this house. Or this town.”

Diane looked at Max with pleading eyes and asked him, “Do you really want us to leave Max? Is that really what you want?”

He paused a moment before answering honestly. “Do I want you gone forever? No. Do I want you gone for awhile . . . yes, I do.”

His mother’s reaction was . . . surprisingly calm. Max glanced at his father and noted that he was barely moving, the expression on his face barely changing. He had expected more yelling, more pleading, but this time, his mother began to back away and said, “Fine. If that’s what you want. We’ll come back to watch you graduate, and we won’t even speak to you if you don’t want us to. Who knows? We might even end up like Maria and her mom.”

“No, we won’t end up like that,” he assured her.

She wiped a few tears off her cheeks and said, “I’d like to see your sister before we go. Do you know where she is?”

Kyle answered for him. “Probably at her new boyfriend’s apartment. Feel free to say all the nice things to him you never said to me.”

“I’m sure we will,” Phillip grumbled. “Where does he live?”

“No idea,” Kyle replied. “As someone who still cares about your daughter, though, I’d suggest leaving her alone. She’s probably really happy right now, and if you two go see her, she won’t stay happy for long.”

Thanks, Kyle, Max thought. His friend was saying all the things he wanted to say but was a bit too timid to.

“Phillip, let’s go,” Diane said. She turned and walked out the front door, not even glancing back at Max now. Apparently she had made up her mind that she was going to do what Max wanted, and if the family fell apart, it was on his shoulders. Her husband followed her, and within moments, the house was in a rare quiet state. The only sound Max could hear was the sound of his parents’ car pulling out of the driveway. He took the opportunity to release a gigantic whoosh of air he had been holding in ever since he’d seen his parents’ car in the driveway in the first place.

“Good job, man,” Kyle said, patting him on the back.

“You, too,” Max said. “Is Maria around?” He really wanted to just lie down next to her for awhile and forget about the rest of the world.

“Uh, no,” Kyle replied. “She and Michael went out somewhere and they haven’t come back yet.”

“Huh,” Max said, refusing to get jealous about that. Maria loved him. She’d told him that. Everything was good on that front.

“She’ll probably be back soon,” Kyle added reassuringly.

“Yeah,” Max said, although he sort of doubted that. If Michael and Maria slipped into one of their many arguments, it was possible that that alone could keep them out all night. “I’m gonna go . . .” He trailed off, realizing he had nothing to do now since he didn’t have to study for any more finals, Maria wasn’t around, and his parents were gone now, too. He had . . . free time on his hands. And he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Finally, he decided on good old-fashioned rest. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”

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

Maria hated the job application process. She hated dropping off her resume, and she hated interviews even more. The only job interview that had gone semi-well in her entire life was her interview at the Modern Dance Association with Alicia, and even that had ended in . . . oh, nothing. She was unemployed, and to anyone who knew her, that probably came as no big surprise.

When she walked into the Charisma Dance Studio that day, she had expected to just drop off her resume and maybe, if she was lucky, get a call back within a few days inviting her to come in for an interview. But instead, Janet, the woman who owned the place, asked her to do an on-the-spot interview, said she had free time on her hands and was willing to ask questions if Maria was willing to answer them. Maria of course acquiesced and sat down with her in her office, trying to hide her nervousness.

It didn’t take Janet long to look over her resume, and it came as no surprise to Maria that she seemed unimpressed. “Well, Maria . . .”

“Yeah, you don’t even have to say anything. I know my resume sucks,” she came right out and said. “I’ve had one job in my entire life and, ooh, it’s modeling. But I came to find out that modeling and dancing are actually sort of similar. You have to use your body for both, and wear skimpy outfits. Those are two things I’m really good at.”

Janet smiled and said, “I did some modeling before opening up this studio, too.”

“Seriously?”

“Mmm-hmm. Had to save up some money somehow.”

Maria smiled. That was where they went their separate ways. She hadn’t saved any of her money. Frugality just wasn’t in her nature.

“So, can I ask you why you’d like to be an instructor here?” Janet inquired, setting her unimpressive resume aside.

“Well . . .” Maria thought about feeding her a line of bull-crap, but she was tired of lying. She lied daily to Max, and even to Michael, and it was just really exhausting. She wanted to tell the truth. So she did. “Actually, I never thought I’d end up at a dance studio. I thought I’d end up, like, up on stage in front of thousands of people or something. And I don’t know, maybe I still will, but . . .” She sighed, the bad memory of her MDA audition a few days ago flooding back. “I auditioned for the Modern Dance Association and pretty much sucked it up, and it was really discouraging. But whatever, you know?”

Janet gave her a confused look. “I’m not really sure I understand, Maria. You never considered being a dance teacher, even after your taught and lead your high school and college dance teams? You won championships, didn’t you? That’s what it says on your resume.”

“Well, yeah, but . . .” Just keep being honest, she told herself. If it appeals to this woman, it appeals. If not, at least you’re not pretending to be someone you’re not. “Pretty much every single girl on those dance teams would happily tell you how much they hated my guts. I mean, I made them have practice at 6:00 a.m. five days a week sometimes, and I’d yell at them and get mad at them, and I hardly ever praised them for anything. So I was like a dictator. And that’s okay. I mean, I think you need to be a dictator sometimes when you’re leading a group of girls like that; it gets the job done, but . . . I don’t know. I was a great captain, I know that, but . . . I definitely could’ve been better.”

Janet, much to Maria’s surprise, smiled again and said, “Well, I appreciate your honesty.”

“You should. It doesn’t happen very often.”

That smile didn’t go away. “You know, you remind me of myself as a young twenty-something. I didn’t think I’d be a very good teacher, either, but my students seemed to think otherwise. Who knows? Maybe you’ll start your own studio someday.”

Maria shrugged. She’d never really thought about that, but . . . anything was possible.

“Say I give you a chance,” Janet hypothesized. “How would you treat your students here differently than you treated your dance team?”

Maria grunted. “Well, for starters, I’d probably be nice to them. They’re kids, right?”

Janet nodded. “Kids and teenagers.”

“Yeah, so . . . I don’t really like kids, but I’d learn to. And they’d probably all really look up to me because . . . well, I’m a good dancer and I’m pretty. That’s, like, totally a winning combination.”

Janet laughed. “Well, as it so happens, I’m looking for someone to teach an intermediate—possibly advanced—jazz class and a beginner hip hop class starting next week. I was going to teach them myself, but, as sad as it is, my body’s wearing out. I could really use your help.”

“Well, I could really use the chance to be helpful.”

“So you’d be interested? Intermediate jazz and beginner hip hop? It’d definitely be a few notches down from the standard of dancing you’re used to, but . . .”

“I’m interested,” Maria cut in. “Totally.”

“Good,” Janet said. “So am I. You may not have the instructional experience, but you’re charismatic, Maria, and this is the Charisma Dance Studio after all.”

Maria smiled.

“But before we make it official,” Janet said, “can I see you dance?”

“Can you?” She hadn’t done any dancing since falling at the audition.

“Yes, can I?”

She lifted the heel of her foot up and moved her ankle around for a moment, circling it from side to side. “Sure,” she said. She felt confident that she wouldn’t fall again.

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

Michael laughed as he watched Maria skip inside the house that evening. She was ecstatic, had been for hours. She was so cute when she got all giggly and girly.

Kyle was at the kitchen counter, eating and doing math homework at the same time, so he was the first one to get ambushed.

“Kyle!” Maria squealed, skipping towards him.

“Her ankle’s better,” Michael informed him in case he couldn’t tell.

“Yes, I see that.”

“Guess what?” Maria chimed.

“What?” Kyle asked.

“You have to guess.”

He sighed and set his pencil down. “Uh, I don’t know. You two eloped?”

Michael made a face, and Maria shrieked, “What? No! Guess again.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“No, Kyle, seriously.”

“What’s more serious than pregnancy?”

Michael chuckled. “Just tell him, Maria.”

Still, she drew out the suspense for a few seconds longer by remaining silent, and then she shouted it out like a damn banshee woman. “I got a job at the Charisma Dance Studio!”

“A job?” Kyle echoed.

“Yeah. Know why? ‘Cause I’m so charismatic.”

Michael smiled. That she was.

“Hey, good job, Maria. I’m proud of you,” Kyle said.

“Thank you.”

“What kind of dancing are you teaching again?” Michael sat down beside Kyle, feeling the urge to tease her. “Pole-dancing?”

“Shut up, Michael,” she snapped. “No, it’s intermediate jazz and beginner hip hop. It’s gonna be so much fun. I’ll get to choreograph the routines myself and teach ‘em to the kids.”

“Whoa, kids?” Kyle cut in. “You’re working with kids, Maria?”

“Yeah, I know I’ll probably suck with them at first, but I’ll get better. It’ll be good for me. I can work on building up my non-existent child skills.”

“Preparation, huh?” Michael said. “So you’ll be ready when you and Maxwell pop out a couple of brats.”

“Me and . . . well . . . whatever,” she stuttered. “Where is Max, by the way?”

“Uh, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, decided to go put in some hours at the tutor center,” Kyle answered. “His parents are gone, by the way.”

“Oh, thank God,” Maria said. “I totally couldn’t tolerate them anymore. You know, there is a fine, fine line between people who just piss me off and people I wanna murder. Yeah, they were soon-to-be murder victims.”

“Where do I fall on that spectrum?” Michael asked.

“Uh, you’re in the murder category, too,” she informed him with a smile on her face.

“Awesome.”

“Yeah, you better sleep with one eye open, Guerin.”

“I’ll do that.” He smiled. She was ridiculous.

“You know what, guys?” Kyle said. “I’m really liking life right now. Yeah, Tess and I are havin’ lots of sex, the Evanses are gone, everyone in this house is employed.”

“Well . . .” Michael looked away. “I don’t know about that.”

“I thought you were still doing the modeling thing,” Maria said.

“Yeah, they kinda lost interest in me when you quit,” he admitted.

She smiled. “Oh, so I was the better model.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Clearly I was, otherwise you’d still be booking photo shoots.”

“No, you know what it is?” Kyle interjected. “It’s a passion thing. That agency wants the two of you together. Two of you not together . . . it’s just not as good.”

Michael thought about that for a moment. Kyle had a point. It was a passion thing. He and Maria had that passion, that connection. For whatever reason, he didn’t quite have that with anyone else . . .

“I gotta go call Liz,” he said. Standing, he started down the hallway.

“Hey, guys?” Maria said. “You know what we should do tonight?”

“Saturday night. We should party,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, but I wanna play Candyland again instead.”

Michael grinned, still on his way down the hallway. “You want me to kick your ass again, DeLuca?”

“No, I’m gonna kick yours,” she promised, “and then you’re gonna kiss mine, and you’ll like it.”

“I probably would,” he mumbled to himself, stepping into his bedroom for a moment. He sat down on the bed, took his cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed Liz’s number. She picked up almost instantly and said, “Hey, I was waiting for you to call.”

“You havin’ fun?” he asked her.

“Yeah. My mom and dad say hi.”

“Tell ‘em I say hi, too.”

“Okay,” she said. “Mom, Dad! Michael says hi!” Following that, he heard Nancy and Jeff say “Hi, Michael!” in response.

“So what’s going on in New Mexico?” Liz asked him. “I’m not missing anything exciting, am I?”

“Nah, not really. Max’s parents left. Maria got a job.”

“Oh, well, that’s good. I’m happy for her.”

Michael frowned. He wasn’t so sure that was true. He’d never managed to figure out how exactly Liz and Maria had fallen out, but they most certainly had. Something must have pitted them against each other. If only it had resulted in a naked catfight.

“Anything else going on?” she asked him.

“Max failed his final,” he blurted.

“What?” she shrieked.

“Yeah, it’s a long story. Ask him about it when you get back.”

“Oh my god,” she said. “Is he still gonna graduate?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I don’t really know all the details, but . . .”

“Wow, that’s a shock,” she said. “I never thought--” Before she could finish, Maria’s voice rang out from the living room.

“Michael! Come play with me!”

He laughed and quickly assured Liz, “That’s not as sexual as it sounds, I promise.” No response to that, either, so he hastily added, “It’s Candyland.”

“Oh. The board game?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh,” she said again. “I never really liked Candyland.”

“What did you like?” he asked, absentmindedly leaning forward to catch a glimpse of Maria bending down to retrieve a couple of the playing pieces off the floor. So hot. He was almost too busy staring to register Liz’s reply.

“I don’t know. I always liked that Cranium game.”

“I suck at that,” he said, still staring at Maria.

“Michael, come on!” she shouted. “Ass-kicking and ass-kissing await you!”

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, I better go, Liz.”

“Already?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t really have anything else to say. Do you?”

“Well . . . no. I guess not,” she said.

“Alright, so I’ll pick you up at the airport Monday, right?”

“No, Sunday. Tomorrow night.”

“Oh, alright, I’ll be there,” he promised. “Bye.”

“Love you--”

He hung up the phone, cutting her off just as she was saying that. Was she telling me she loves me? he thought, slightly panicked by that thought. Whoa. Liz hadn’t said that to him before . . .

“Michael!” Maria hollered again. “Come on! You’re a slowpoke!”

“Yeah, come on, man!” Kyle chimed in. “Slowpoke!”

He just sat in his bedroom and listened for a moment as Maria laughed. There were two sounds that he loved hearing more than anything else in the world, and that was one of them. The other was Maria yelling.

As if on cue, she stopped laughing then, and her voice switched to that passionate yell she was so famous for. “Michael, seriously! God!”

He grinned and stood up. “Alright, I’m comin’.”

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

Max hadn’t expected to be at the tutor center for more than two hours. Yet he ended up staying there until 9:00 that night trying hard to help a hopeless kid with biology 101. He knew he probably hadn’t been doing his best tutoring. He was stressed, and he was tired. He’d gotten a half an hour nap earlier, but that wasn’t enough. He was going to go home and sleep for ten hours. Twelve maybe. Why not? He didn’t have to go to class anymore. He was done.

As he made his way across campus, he came across the one person he did not want to see. Arlene Ross, the salutatorian. He always assumed the difference between the two of them was that, even though they were both smart, Arlene liked to think she was a lot smarter than she really was.

“Max, I’m so glad I ran into you,” she said with a fake smile on her face. “I met with the Dean earlier today. He wanted me to give you this.” She handed a few familiar looking papers back to him: his valedictorian speech.

Great. So it was official.

“Thanks for bombing that final, Max,” Arlene chirped. “I really appreciate it.” With that same fake smile on her face, she brushed past him and skipped off. Valedictorian. There she was. Max had half the mind to turn around and shout out some insults at her, but he kept those to himself. He could dislike her all he wanted to, but the truth was, she’d earned the title of number one in the class. He hadn’t. He had come up short, and now he was going to have to settle for second place.

Was there anything worse than second place?

When he walked in the front door that night and took a look at the house, he noted that it was in complete disarray. Apparently his friends had decided to act like big kids for the night, because the kitchen was trashed, evidence of a food fight everywhere. Pillows were strewn about . . . pillow fight, probably. And right in the middle of it all was Candyland scattered about all over the floor. Max sighed. He was happy his friends had had a good night, but who was going to get stuck cleaning it all up? Probably him. Maybe Kyle, but . . . no, probably him.

Max shut the door and couldn’t help but overhear grunting from the basement. Tess must be here, he thought. Kyle and Tess had been sex maniacs ever since their relationship had downsized to two. Personally, Max was happy about it. It meant that he no longer had to listen to his sister doing things he would rather not imagine her doing.

He bent down to gather up all the Candyland playing pieces and was about to work on putting them back in the battered box when he heard laughing coming from Maria’s bedroom. Distinct Maria laughing.

“Michael! Ah!”

He frowned. How come Michael was the only one who could make her laugh like that? It wasn’t fair.

There was more laughing, followed by giggling. “Michael, I’m serious. Truce. No more tickling.”

Max stood up, not particularly pleased with the thought of his friend’s hands on his girlfriend’s body yet again. Even if it was just tickling. Even if it was just a platonic thing they did . . .

He started towards the bedroom.

“Michael, I said truce! That means . . . stop!” More laughing. “Michael!” And even more.

Max gently pushed open the door to the bedroom and breathed a silent sigh of relief. For some reason, he’d worried he would find them naked and tickling in bed. As much as he trusted Maria . . . you never knew with the two of them. But thankfully, they were just tickling. Just tickling.

They stopped what they were doing when they saw him and both looked up at him. “Hey, Max,” Maria said.

“Hey,” he returned. “Sorry I was out so late.”

“No, that’s okay.” She sat up, and Max noticed the way she pulled her shirt down. Apparently Michael had just . . . hiked it up a little bit. While tickling.

“People always need to get smarter, right?”

“Huh?” He’d been spacing out for a minute, trying not to imagine her and Michael rolling around in that bed while he was gone. Tickling.

“I said people always need to get smarter,” she repeated, smiling. “That’s where you come in. That’s your job.”

“Yeah, well . . .” He shrugged. Sometimes, he didn’t feel very smart. Sometimes, he felt like just as big of a train wreck as everyone else in the world.

“Maria got a job,” Michael piped up.

That lifted Max’s spirits a little bit. “Really? That’s great, honey.”

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s just this instructor gig at a dance studio.”

“Just?” he echoed. “That’s really cool, Maria. I’m proud of you. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” she said again. “Well, how was your day?”

“Uh, it sucked,” he came right out and said. “But at least my parents are gone.”

“We’re all stoked about that,” Maria assured him.

Michael then gestured to the paper in Max’s hand and asked him, “What is that?”

“Oh.” Max took one more look at his speech and sighed. It was no good to him now. “It used to be my valedictorian speech,” he said before crumpling it up into a ball in his hand. He aimed it at the small wicker trashcan next to Maria’s bed and tossed it in. “Now it’s just trash.”

“You mean, it’s official? We’re gonna have to listen to stupid Arlene Ross—whoever that is—give a graduation speech instead?” Maria frowned.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. But hopefully I’ll at least be able to give the salutatorian speech. Hopefully.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she got up off the bed and neared him. “I’m sorry,” she said, hugging him.

“I told you not to apologize,” he reminded her, casting a quick glance at Michael. Michael wasn’t watching them hug.

“I just feel like nothing’s working out the way it’s supposed to,” she said. “You’re not valedictorian anymore. I’m not gonna be an MDA dancer. Michael didn’t get any film internships. Well, I mean, except . . .”

“Cum-Hungry Coeds,” he filled in. “Woohoo.”

“Everything’s working out fine,” Max assured her. As long as she was his girlfriend—which he hoped would be a very long time—things were working out better than he had ever expected they would.

“Wanna play Candyland?” she asked. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“Actually, I’m really tired,” he admitted. “I never really liked Candyland anyway.”

“Max, you traitor, it’s a classic,” she insisted. “But if you’re tired . . . I’ll go sleep with you.”

Michael chuckled. “If we had a dollar for every time she said that . . .”

Maria whirled around to face him, immediately fuming. “Shut up, you ass . . . face.”

“Ass face?”

“Yeah, shut up.” She turned back to Max then and said, “Sleepy.”

“Sleepy,” he agreed, starting down the hallway. “‘Night, Michael.”

“‘Night, Max,” Michael returned. “Goodnight, Maria.”

“Screw you, Michael.”

Max couldn’t help but feel jealous of the ease in which they conversed. They had always spoken to each other like that, so effortlessly. No awkwardness. No hesitation. Their interaction had never changed, not in all these years.

“You’re still thinking, aren’t you?” Maria said as they stepped over the hurricane-like debris in the living room and into his room.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about how long it’s gonna take to clean all this up tomorrow.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You and Michael and Kyle will have it done in no time.” She smiled.

He laughed and put his arms around her waist. “You always make me feel better, you know that?”

“I do?”

“Yeah, you’re so . . .”

“Crazy?” she filled in.

“Well, I was gonna say amazing, but crazy works, too.” He smiled down at her, then leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. Maria probably didn’t know how amazing she really was. Hell, most people probably had no idea. He liked to think he was the only one who thought of her that way, but Michael probably thought of her that way, too. Michael probably thought of her in a lot of ways.

Max stripped down to his boxers and tossed Maria one of his t-shirts, they climbed into bed, and for a long time, neither one of them fell asleep. Finally, though, her breathing became steady and louder, and when he glanced down at her, her eyes were closed. She was asleep. He still wasn’t. Because there was one last thing on his mind, one last thing that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

He carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake her, and made his way over to his dresser. He slowly pulled out the top drawer and dug around underneath layers of socks for what he was looking for. His hands grasped the small, black box, and he smiled. There it was.

He took out the box and opened it up. It was a nice ring he’d picked out, not gigantic by any means, but just right for Maria. There was no way she wouldn’t like it. And this wasn’t going to just be another promise ring. No, this was the real deal. Someday soon when the time was right, he was going to get down on one knee and give it to her, because he’d dreamt about that moment for years.

He smiled again as he glanced back and forth from his sleeping girlfriend to the piece of jewelry that would hopefully soon adorn her left ring finger. Today had been a really bad day for him, but it was going to get better. Because on the day that she accepted his proposal . . . that was going to be the best day of his life.










TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Yes, it's definitely Monday now!

Thank you for the awesome feedback:

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I have to tell you guys that this weekend was an important one for this story. Why? Because I actually FINISHED WRITING IT! (I even got 33 pages written on a new fic.) I'm shocked. Anyway, I did the math, and it turns out that, since it's taken me about a year to write this fic, I've written about 3.8 pages each day. I don't know why I'm sharing that. I guess I'm just proud of my below-average math skills.

Anyway, enough rambling from me. On with the story!









Part 87









Michael was happy for Alex, finally fulfilling the one true ambition in his life and dating Isabel, but it happened at the complete wrong time. He had a movie to make, and Alex was supposed to be his editor; but since Alex was too busy being his girlfriend’s . . . fireman or police officer or whatever other kind of role-play they were probably engaging in, Michael was left to edit his footage on his own. And he was not an editor.

Leave it simple, he told himself as he tried out some different scenes on his computer that morning. Maria was a fiery subject. She didn’t really need any editing.

“Man, the word procrastination takes on a whole new meaning with you,” Kyle said laughingly as he trudged upstairs the next morning. “When’s that movie due, like next week?’

“Week and a half,” Michael replied.

“See? Procrastination. Man, what’ve you been doing this whole semester?”

Michael shrugged. “You know, fun stuff. Hanging out with Maria. Sex.”

“Sex with Maria?” Kyle asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“No, sex with Liz. Just hanging out with Maria.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I think I’d remember sex with Maria.”

Kyle grinned. “I think you’d remember it, too.” He grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator, sat down next to Michael at the kitchen counter, and leaned over to peer at his screen. “So what’s this about?”

“Ah, you know, just everyone’s favorite little vixen.”

Kyle chuckled. “Well, Tess happens to be my favorite little vixen, but yeah, Maria’s right up there, too.”

“Right.” Michael caught his little slip-up there and tried to fix it as well as he could. “I mean, obviously Liz would be my favorite.”

“Obviously. That’s why the movie’s about Maria.”

Michael sighed, frustrated. “She’s . . . interesting, alright? Not that Liz isn’t. But Maria’s just . . . you know, she’s all over the place.”

“And that’s what this movie’s about?”

“Yeah. The various incarnations of dirty girl DeLuca. There’s pissed off Maria, furious Maria, annoyed Maria, happy Maria, psychotic Maria, slutty Maria, and, my personal favorite, naked Maria.”

Kyle grinned. “Girls should never wear clothes.”

“I know.”

Just then, Maria walked out of Max’s bedroom. “Morning, losers,” she said, yawning and stretching her arms above her head. Michael couldn’t help but take notice at the amount of thigh she exposed during that maneuver as the t-shirt pulled upward on her body. He was sort of disappointed when she put her arms back down.

Very disappointed.

“Whatcha guys talkin’ about?” she asked, standing behind the two of them.

“Naked you, actually,” Kyle replied unabashedly.

“Naked girls in general,” Michael elaborated, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

Kyle smirked. “Mostly naked you.”

Michael shot him a look. “Shut up, man.”

Maria yawned again, then asked Michael, “How’s the movie coming?”

“It’s coming,” he replied, not sure if he was talking about himself or the movie. He certainly wasn’t cumming yet, but when it came time to edit more nude Maria footage, he doubted he’d be able to keep it together for long.

“Do I look hot in it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You look alright.”

“Shut up. I look scorching,” she said confidently.

Tess’s voice joined the mix then, as she paraded upstairs. “Speaking of scorching . . .” she sang out, making her way into the kitchen. “Here I am.”

“Yeah!” Kyle exclaimed. “Damn right baby. How’s my little vixen?”

“Vixen-y,” she replied.

Michael sat back and took a moment to study Tess. She was wearing only a t-shirt just like Maria. She was a hot girl. Kyle was a damn lucky guy to get to sleep with her. But . . . she just didn’t affect him the way Maria did. Neither did Isabel. Neither did . . .

He stopped himself before completing the thought.

“So,” Tess said, “anybody got finals tomorrow?”

“One, unfortunately,” Kyle mumbled. “That’s not stoppin’ me from goin’ to the car bash, though.”

“Car bash?” Tess echoed, tilting her head to the side inquisitively.

“Oh, poor little sophomore girl,” Maria said, smiling. “The car bash is like a senior rite of passage here. Every year around this time, the Sigma Nu fraternity gets a hold of this really old, junker car, and then all the seniors head out to the frat house and bash the hell out of it.”

Tess nodded. “Hmm. Why?”

“Nobody really knows,” Michael told her. “All we know is, we’re seniors. We’re bashin’.”

Kyle and Maria nodded their heads in agreement.

“Huh,” Tess said. “Sounds fun, actually. Maybe it’ll be a good way for you guys to take out some anger or some rage or some . . . I don’t know.” She glanced at Michael and Maria. “Sexual frustration.”

“What? Sexual frustration?” Maria shrieked.

Michael laughed. “Yeah, I’m not . . . I have sex all the time.”

“Yeah, and Max and I . . . not all the time, but, you know, I’m . . . satisfied.”

Just satisfied? Michael found himself thinking. Maria should be more than just satisfied.

Tess laughed. “Relax. I was just saying . . . I wasn’t expecting such passionate reactions. Although, considering who I’m talking to, maybe I should have.”

“I’m not sexually frustrated,” Maria muttered defiantly.

“I’m like the king of sex,” Michael went on. “Hey, you guys, you know what? I’m bein’ academic here. You guys wanna clear out so I can work on my movie?”

“Oh, alright,” Tess said. “Back downstairs?” she asked Kyle.

“A.m. booty. I like it,” Kyle said as he followed her downstairs. “What do you think, a little wam, bam, thank you ma’am?”

Tess laughed.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” Maria announced, whirling around.

“Wait a minute,” Michael said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. “You can stay.”

“Oh, I feel so honored,” she said sarcastically, sitting down where Kyle had been. She, too, leaned over and looked at the computer screen, and she immediately flipped out. “Michael! Why’d you film me when I was sleeping?”

He laughed. “‘Cause I needed some innocent Maria. Baby, I got news for you. The only time you’re innocent is when you’re asleep, and even then, it’s arguable.”

“You can’t put that in there.”

“Tough shit. I’m gonna.”

“But I look gross!” she protested.

“I thought you said you looked scorching.”

“Uh, not when there’s a puddle of drool below my mouth.”

He made a face. “Yeah, that is pretty sick.”

“Shut up! You drool, too. And snore.”

He smiled. “And I look cool doin’ it.”

“Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes, smiling right along with him. “You’re so--”

“Yeah, you’re so, too.”

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

That night, literally half of the students at the university went to the Sigma Nu frat house for the car bash. The car was parked out in the front lawn, and people circled around it to watch as various seniors took their turns hitting it with a sledgehammer. One dollar paid for five hits.

“Man,” Michael said to Max as they stood by, watching as two blonde bombshells brought down massive destruction on the vehicle. “Is there gonna be any car left to bash when these chicks are done with it?” They had paid five dollars each. Apparently they both had some quality rage. Michael liked it.

“I don’t know,” Max replied. “They’re really getting into it.”

“Yeah, this is pretty awesome,” Michael said. “Hot chicks and sledgehammers, you know?”

Max just laughed a little and tilted his head downward.

“Maxwell,” Michael said, “you can look at other girls, you know. Just ‘cause you got a girlfriend . . .”

“Yeah, I know,” Max said. “But truthfully, the only girl I notice is Maria, so . . .” He trailed off and shrugged. “What about you? Do you notice anyone in particular besides Liz?”

Michael glanced up past the bashing blondes toward the front porch of the house. There was a blonde girl up there who put the others to shame. Maria. She was flirting with some of the Sigma Nu guys, trying to bribe them into giving her, Michael, Max, and Kyle five hits for free. She was wearing a pair of short, Daisy-Duke jean shorts and a red, form-fitting university t-shirt. If she wanted him to notice . . . he was definitely noticing.

“Uh, mainly I just notice Liz,” he lied. Dammit, he hated this. He was noticing Maria more and more with every passing day, and as awesome as it was, it sucked. Because he actually was trying to be a good boyfriend, actually trying to be more grown-up and have a serious relationship.

“I think this car’s a goner,” Max said, changing the subject.

Michael glanced back to the two bashing blondes, and the perfect thing happened to take his mind off Maria. One of the blondes, the one who had only been wearing a bikini on her top half, had a wardrobe malfunction. Her breasts popped out, but she either didn’t notice or just didn’t care, because she kept swinging at the car.

“Yeah!” Michael roared along with the rest of the male spectators.

Max glanced away.

“Take out the dash!” Michael hollered. “Take-do it naked! Take out the dash naked!”

The other girl must have heard him, because she set her sledgehammer down for a moment and in order to step out of her jeans and panties.

“Yeah!” all the guys roared again.

“Oh, yeah,” Michael said. How awesome was it that, at the University of Santa Fe, girls would get drunk and naked and beat up on cars in the front yard where anybody could see them without any inhibitions? He glanced at Max again and said, “I love college.”

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

Maria leaned in closer to Travis and Josh, the two Sigma Nu guys who were in charge of collecting money from all those participating in the car bash. “So,” she said, twirling her hair around her left index finger rather dizzily. “What do you guys think? A couple free whacks at the automobile? That’s not too much to ask.” She smiled, leaning in even closer to brush her backside against Travis’s growing erection. Slutiness was like riding a bike. Once you learned it, you never forgot it.

“Wow,” Travis said. “Definitely not too much to ask.”

“Definitely,” Josh agreed. “Damn, girl, how come you haven’t been at any of our parties lately?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve had a lot going on, I guess. Actually trying to study and have a boyfriend and get a job. New stuff for me, you know, so . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Plus, Candyland’s been a recent big theme.”

Both guys gave her a perplexed look.

“Never mind,” she quickly said. “So . . . .?”

“Well, you’re still smokin’ hot,” Josh said. “Free hits on the car. No problem.” He grinned. “I owe you something for that awesome night we spent together a few years back.”

She just smiled and fought the urge to make a confused face. She’d slept with him? When? All the guys kind of blended together. “Thanks, guys,” she said, flipping her hair flirtatiously as she turned and walked away. She rolled her eyes when they could no longer see them. Never was she going back to the large phase of her life where she’d slept with completely random losers. That part of her life was over.

“Hey, Maria, you want a drink?”

“No, thank you.” She pushed past the guy with pink hair who was trying to shove a beer bong into her hand, but he followed her.

“You sure? Girl like you should get smashed.”

“I’m sure, you fucking idiot,” she said with a fake smile, shoving him aside. She got back to Max and Michael and immediately felt better. Sometimes these fraternity guys creeped her out.

“Maria, look,” Michael said, pointing to the car. “This is better than porn.”

Maria glanced over and noticed that the two girls who had been bashing the car for the longest time were now lying on top of it, drunkenly getting naked and making out with each other. “Oh my god,” she said, shaking her head. “Whatever. I just flirted my way to five free swings for me, for you . . .” She pointed towards Max. “. . . and for Kyle when he gets here.” The poor guy was still at work.

“Wait, what about my free swings?” Michael asked.

“Sorry. Doing you favors is not my goal in life.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Max. “Mind if I borrow your bitchy girlfriend for a minute? Thanks, man.”

“Hey, what’re you doing?” Maria yelped as he grabbed her arm and started pulling her back through the crowd in the direction she had come.

“I’m missing out on lesbian car sex. You’re doing me a favor,” he replied.

“What?”

“Yeah. You know, I’m just thinking that maybe—maybe—horny fraternity guys might be more responsive to you than to me.” He shrugged over-exaggeratedly. “I don’t know.”

Maria rolled her eyes at him and found herself back up on the porch with Josh and Travis and this time Michael a moment later. “Hey, guys,” she said, smiling again. “I forgot to ask, can Michael have five free hits at the car, too?”

“Guerin, what’s up?” Josh said. “Long time, no see, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, long time, no see,” Michael agreed. “Great car bash, guys.”

Travis laughed. “I know, dude. Look at those chicks.”

Michael glanced back towards the lesbians and nodded. “Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.”

“That’s the stuff!” Travis exclaimed. “Yeah! Go for it, blondies!”

“Gotta love blondes,” Josh said, eyeing Maria purposefully. “Hot, dumb, and horny, just how I like ‘em.”

She laughed, not really appreciating his gaze, and said exasperatedly, “Michael.”

“Right, about the free swings . . .” He said. “I know it’s just a dollar, but . . . you know, I gotta start takin’ Liz out on more dates, you know, and that kind of thing costs money. I gotta save up.”

Maria rolled her eyes. Truthfully, he was just stingy.

“Hey, where is Liz?” Travis asked. “I like her. I like her a lot.”

“Well, she’s in Nebraska,” Michael replied.

“Where’s the hell’s that?” Josh asked.

Michael shrugged and said, “Nobody knows.”

“Michael,” Maria muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, “can we get this show on the road?”

“Right. Right. The swings . . . at the car . . . guys. Come on.”

“Well, I got an idea,” Travis said. “When your girlfriend gets back from Nebraska or wherever the hell she is, you send her over here, let her have her first DP.” He and Josh laughed.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Sorry, guys,” Michael said.

“Well, how ‘bout you, Maria?” Josh asked. “Wanna go upstairs?”

“Oh, that’s definitely not gonna happen,” Michael cut in before she could answer. His forcefulness made her smile. That definitely wasn’t going to happen.

“Come on, you guys,” she said impatiently. “Just give him his free hits. You know he’s, like, your role model.”

“Admiration for him, yes,” Josh said. “But attraction for you, Miss Maria . . . most definitely. Come on, let’s just go upstairs for awhile. You can give me one of those blowjobs you’re so good at.”

“Alright, Maria, let’s just go,” Michael said, taking hold of her hand.

“No, stay,” Josh said, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her to him. He pressed his lower body against hers forcefully and seethed, “You know you want it, bitch.”

Before she could knee him a good one in the groin, Michael shot his hands outward and shoved Josh away. “Don’t fucking touch her,” he warned.

“Already have, man,” Josh said, laughing. “Already have.” He let his eyes wander to Maria again and licked his lips suggestively. “I never forgot what it felt like to fuck you. Best sex ever.”

“Maybe for you. Personally, I need at least a six-inch to feel satisfied, and you didn’t quite measure up.” She shrugged. True, she didn’t even remember ever sleeping with him, but she had a feeling his overtly jerkish personality was a way of compensating for something.

“Come on, Maria, let’s go,” Michael said again, glaring at Josh. He put his arm around her waist, sending shivers up her spine, and led her off the porch.

“Hey, Guerin!” Josh shouted out to him. “I thought you said your girlfriend was in Nebraska! Seems like she’s right here!”

Maria stiffened, for a moment, and she thought she felt Michael do the same thing. “Fuckers,” he muttered. “Hey, I’m takin’ my free swings anyway! At the car! Touch Maria again and it’ll be your fuckin’ face!” He rubbed his hand up and down Maria’s back and said again, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Michael.” She stopped and turned to face him. “I don’t need you to protect me.” She liked it, obviously, but she didn’t need it.

“I know you don’t,” he said. “Just couldn’t help myself.” He smiled.

Oh god, she thought as she stared up into his gorgeous brown eyes. I don’t know how much longer I can resist you, Michael Guerin.

Michael was the first to look away. He turned and glanced back at the car, and when he saw that two football players were picking up the sledgehammers, he exclaimed angrily, “Aw, the lesbians are done? Dammit!”

She smiled and shook her head. “Dumb-ass.”

“I’m really disappointed.”

“Well, I have something that’ll make you feel better.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, waving it around in front of him and giggling. “Ta-da! While that guy was harassing me, I swiped twenty bucks out of his pocket, ‘cause I’m a bitch like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael said, smiling and nodding. “That a girl.”

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

How is that car still standing? Max asked himself as he watched the jocks bash it up like no one else. The left door was literally hanging on hinges. He wasn’t sure if he was going to pick up the sledgehammer and have a whack at it or not. The car bash was more for angry people, and he didn’t consider himself a very angry guy.

“How far did the lesbians go, Max?” Michael asked as he and Maria sauntered through the crowd toward him.

“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t watch,” Max answered quickly.

“It’s okay if you did, Max. I won’t get mad,” Maria quickly assured him.

“No, I really wasn’t watching.”

“Oh,” Maria said. “Well, you’re just, like . . . the perfect boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “I try.”

“I try, too,” Michael put in. “Who am I kidding? I don’t try.”

Max chuckled and asked, “You get your free hits?”

“Yeah, eventually,” he replied.

“I stole twenty dollars,” Maria said, smiling.

“Oh, well . . . there you go.” Max wasn’t sure what else to say to that. He spotted his sister and Alex coming through the crowd a moment later and waved at them.

“Hey, guys!” Isabel exclaimed. “We couldn’t find you. Have you guys been here this whole time?”

“Well, we were fashionably late,” Maria informed her. “Well, I was fashionably late. They were just late and not at all fashionable.”

Isabel laughed and said. “Obviously. Max, the plaid shirt? Really?”

He looked down at the brown and black plaid shirt he was wearing and asked, “What’s wrong with this? It’s my favorite shirt.”

“You look country, Max,” Isabel informed him. “Whatev. I don’t wanna talk about it. Alex has a theory, you guys. You wanna hear his theory?”

“What kind of theory?” Maria asked.

“Well, a theory about the car bash,” he replied. “What’s the significance, you know? I personally think it’s a way for us seniors to let loose before the last finals we’ll ever have to take in our undergraduate lives.”

“Or after finals, in my case,” Max muttered.

“Exactly,” Alex said. “Oh, I’m up next.” He rubbed his hands together excitedly. “You guys ready to cheer me on?”

“Oh, yea, go Alex!” Isabel cheered, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down like a cheerleader. “Woohoo!”

“Woohoo, Alex,” Maria echoed.

“Thanks, guys,” he said, shrugging out his shoulders. “Alright, here I go.” He made his way into the middle of the circle just as the jocks were clearing out, and everyone quieted down a little. He glanced back at their group and gave them an expectant look.

“Yea, Alex!” Isabel cheered again.

He smiled, then bent down to pick up the sledgehammer. The moment he tried, though, he set it back down, his face contorting a bit. “Whoa, kinda heavy,” Max heard him say. “Alright. Enough of that.” He smiled, obviously embarrassed, did a few waves to the crowd around him, and sulked back toward the group.

“Oh, I no longer have a right arm,” he said dramatically, holding his left hand to his right shoulder. “It’s layin’ out there by the car. That thing is heavy.”

“Oh, Alex, don’t feel bad,” Isabel said. “Sledgehammers have been known to kill people. I think you did good.”

“I couldn’t even pick it up,” he said. “Maybe I should hit the gym. My arms . . .”

Isabel smiled. “I like you arms.”

“Oh, really?” He smiled back at her. “I like yours, too.”

Max smiled, happy that his sister had found Alex, that they were embarking on such a promising relationship. But he still had to turn away when they started kissing. There was only so much a brother could take.

He glanced down at Maria and said, “I like you arms, Maria.”

She made a face. “Thanks?”

“I like other parts of you better,” Michael mumbled.

“Shut up!” She playfully smacked him on the arm, but Max noticed the way she was smiling. And her cheeks . . . she was blushing.

Suddenly, he had an overwhelming urge to go pick up that sledgehammer and do some damage. “Be right back,” he said, venturing out into the middle of the circle. He had five free hits. He might as well use them. No time like the present.

He didn’t wait for anyone to start cheering him on. He picked up one of the sledgehammers without hesitation and swung it at the car. He hit it on the side, the left door, and made an indent. He pictured his stupid biology final, the one he’d failed, and swung again, harder. He pictured his crumpled up valedictorian speech, now residing in the trash. Another swing. Harder. He pictured his mom and dad. Swing. Michael and Maria.

That final swing was what broke the door off. It fell inward, heavily indented, and slid down off the front seat onto the ground. Everyone cheered and hollered for him, but he just stood there for a moment. The car bash was for people who had things bottled up inside.

Apparently for people like him.

He set the sledgehammer down and made his way back over to his friends. Isabel stepped in front of him, looking worried, and said, “Max, I didn’t know you were so angry.”

He glanced back at the car, at the amount of damage he’d just caused, and admitted, “Neither did I.”

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

Liz stepped into the Santa Fe airport, feeling relieved. She loved being home; she loved spending time with her parents. But being there with them while Maria was here with Michael . . . it made her nervous. She couldn’t help it. She trusted Michael. She really did. And she trusted Maria to an extent . . .

As she was walking out through the security checkpoint, she called her parents and let them know that she had landed. They sounded tired, so she made it a quick call, then looked around for Michael. She was tired herself. She just wanted to go back to his house, crawl into his bed with him, and fall asleep.

But he wasn’t there. She looked around everywhere, but she didn’t see him. It wasn’t as though he were easy to miss, either. His hair . . . if he’d been there, she would have noticed him right away.

Hmm, she thought. Maybe he’s just running a little late. But it was already almost 11:00 at night. Her plane had arrived about a half an hour later than it’d been scheduled to. Michael definitely had bad time-management skills, but not that bad.

She didn’t want to believe that he’d forgotten about her, but . . . sadly, it would come as no big surprise.

She sighed and took out her cell phone again. This time, she dialed his number. It rang several times, but he didn’t pick up. She tapped her foot anxiously, hoping to hear his voice. But she never did.

Michael, where are you?

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

Michael didn’t hear his phone ringing—it was way too loud at the party—but he did feel it vibrating in his pocket. He took it out, flipped it open, and saw that it was Liz. He sighed. She was probably going to want to have a conversation about something, something he wasn’t that interested in. Hell, he was at a party. He didn’t want to wind up on the phone.

He glanced up and watched the scene in front of him, because it was quite a sight to behold. Maria had decided to be an entertainer when smashing the car. She got up on the hood of it and danced around much to everyone’s delight. The girl looked amazing. Perfect body. Beautiful face. Uninhibited.

Totally his type.

He was so busy staring at her that he was barely aware of the fact that he shut his phone and put it back in his pocket. He’d call Liz back later, before bed maybe.

“She looks good, huh?”

He turned his head to the side only briefly when he heard Alex say that to him. “Yeah,” he agreed, immediately returning his gaze to his favorite dancing car-basher. “She looks really good.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Alex smirking, though, and he quickly asked, “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

Instead of answering, Alex pointed a finger at him and asked the same thing. “What do you mean by that?”

What do I mean? Michael thought. Probably that, for eight years, I’ve never been able to get enough of . . .

He stopped himself before completing the thought and sighed heavily as Alex backed away. He took another look at Maria. She had lain down on the hood now and was alternating kicking each leg in the air like a Vegas showgirl. She was pure entertainment. Gorgeous entertainment.

Shit, he thought. He’d always been attracted to Maria. But lately, it was starting to feel more and more like . . . something else.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Vael:

wow you're finished writing this and have a good start on another?

Yep. I started the new one the day after I finished this one. I just don’t feel right unless I’m writing something!
killjoy:

And god I wished I had went to the University of Santa Fe.....my college was no where near as fun as theirs

My college is wild and crazy like this (a lot bigger, though). I don’t actually do the wild/crazy stuff, though, because usually it ends with a drunken frat boy falling out of a window. And that’s no joke!
nibbles:

I think Liz is playing dumb and blind when she's not but in the beginning she was very, very naive and innocent. Now, she's been in a relationship with a guy she's infatuated with and will put up with anything just to stay with him.

That’s a good way to describe Liz. She’s become a lot more like Max in that she’s not blind to Michael and Maria’s feelings anymore; she’s just desperate.
Alien_Friend:

I can't believe you're done. Wow! How many pages did it turn out to be in the end?

Well, it’s quite long, about 1,400 pages. The scary thing is, I still have, like, 500 pages left to post! And I started posting this in mid-January. I’ve been posting this thing for half a year, and there’s still around 500 pages left! lol
Sara:

And it sucks that Maria is constantly going to be reminded of all her past indiscretions

That’s true. She made her choices, though, and now she’s going to have to live with the consequences.
pookie76:

P.S. Love the fact that you already started working on a new fiction. I'm sure that one is going to be awsome aswell.

Oh, well, I hope so! It’s going to be VERY different from Passion, that’s all I can say.
OliveMcKay:

Angry Max is hot. He should be that way more often, or at least not so bottled up with how he feels.

I agree. Max doesn’t need to become a pissed off jerk, he just needs to be, as you put it, “not so bottled up.” He could still be a nice guy while allowing himself to feel angry sometimes.
starcrazed:

Max does have lots of anger and I'm glad Liz isn't surprised that Michael forgot to pick her up b/c if she was it would just be pathetic.

It would have been. Liz has gotten to the point where, unless she gets some reassurance from Michael that he’s committed to their relationship, she’s unhappy with it.
mrs_guerin:

Also now i know your writing a new fic, im ready to be sucked in haha.

Glad to hear it! I’ll admit, I’m nervous about the new one. I think it could get really controversial.
Nat: Whenever I make fun of Nebraska, I remind myself that I’m making fun of my own state . . . and then I laugh harder.
Ashley:

Woooo, how many chapters till the end I'm sooooo Excited (and sad for the ending)

Oh gosh, I have no idea how many chapters are left. FAR too many to count. This fic is still going to be around for awhile. There’s a lot of story left to tell. You guys haven’t even gotten into the thick of it yet.
tequathisy:

I hope that the sledgehammers are put in a safe place, well out of Max's reach when he does crack.

For some reason, when I read this, I misinterpreted it and thought you were talking about crack cocaine or something. It gave me a good laugh. Thanks. But now I get it. Yeah, there’s definitely cracks in Max’s foundation, so to speak. That’s pretty much why he has that ring for Maria. He thinks marrying her would fix everything, and then he wouldn’t have to crack.
Christina:

I'd say that blowing off your girlfriend to spend more time with your best girl friend is pretty much cheating.

Yeah. Yeah, I agree. I think a few people have referred to it before as an emotional cheating, which is, in a sense, worse than the physical kind.
Krista:

She depends on him much more than a girl should depend on a guy. I feel like she'll be asking him to wipe her butt next because she doesn't know if she's doing it the way he does it.

Oh, that gave me a good laugh. But really, you are right. Liz is way too dependent on Michael. And really, let’s face it, he’s not the world’s most dependable person.
Tine:

but seeing how he is letting all his fear and insecurety and jealousy out on that poor car, I'm just glad he didn't use that sledgehamer on Michael...

Uh, yeah, that would be bad!


Lots of feedback on that last part! Me like! Thank you so much, you guys! I really appreciate what each and every one of you has to say. Now I’ll just put all fears to rest and let you know . . . I HAVE A BACK-UP COPY SAVED! (I’ve learned the hard way, believe me, that that’s something a writer must do. So I did.) It’s saved on a little Flashdrive (or whatever the hell you call ‘em; I’m so not technological). It’s not going anywhere.



On a different note, I found out I have no class on Friday (I’m happy-dancing at that thought!), so that means I’m doing my usual sprint home for the weekend a day early. But . . . I’m going to go ahead and post another chapter tomorrow because, honestly, I have nothing better to do. And then you’ll have to wait until Monday again. (Or Tuesday for you Aussies!)



Now, just one more thing to cover. I'm still obsessed with music, and I have two songs in mind for this part. Jimmy Eat World's "Hear You Me" and OneRepublic's "Say (All I Need)," (and I liked this song before it started to get overplayed on the radio, by the way.) Anyway, I'll signal which parts I picture the songs at with a 1. for the Jimmy Eat World song and 2. for the OneRepublic song. Here's the links to both of these beautiful songs if you're interested:

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9pQo9OQlIB8&fmt=18
2. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7U3YWD_KWo&fmt=18


Enjoy this part. Seriously.









Part 88







The car bash usually went on all night long. Few people could stay the whole time, though. Isabel was one of the first to get tired and suggest leaving. “Mmm,” she moaned, resting her head against Alex’s shoulder. “I’m all bashed out.”

Michael smirked. “Ride your girl a little too hard, Whitman? She looks kinda exhausted.”

“He didn’t ride me. I rode him,” Isabel said. “Last night he rode me.”

“Isabel, you should go home,” Maria suggested. “You obviously have no control over what you’re saying right now, and if you say much more, I think Max is gonna go deaf by choice.”

“Definitely deaf by choice,” Max agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Alex, can we go?”

“Sure,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. “Back to my place?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Alright. We’ll see you guys, later.” He waved goodbye to the group, and Maria and Max waved goodbye to him.

“Hey!” Michael called after him. “A girl like that is never too tired to have sex. You go for it tonight, man. Alright? Yeah.” He gave his friend and encouraging thumbs-up.

Maria shook her head. Typical Michael advice. Go for it.

She really wished she’d just gone for it with him. Her life would have been a lot easier had she not blurted out Max’s name back when Michael had first asked her who she had feelings for. That one little lie was what had gotten the relationship wrecking ball rolling.

“When’s Kyle gonna get here?” she whined. “The car’s already, like, split in two.”

“He must’ve had to work late,” Max supposed.

“That sucks. He was so excited.”

“That does suck,” Michael agreed. “You see, this is why unemployment is the cool thing.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Maria reminded him. “I’m not unemployed anymore.”

“Charisma Dance Studio instructor, I know,” Michael said.

Max put an arm around her and said, “Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you? You’re gonna make a great instructor.”

“Thanks,” Maria said, still a little unsure about that. This had never been in her plan for the future. Hell, she’d barely ever had a plan for a future. Now all of a sudden, it was almost here, zooming up at lightning speed.

“Oh, there’s Kyle,” Michael said, motioning to their car as it drove up the street. Kyle skillfully parallel-parked it, and he and Tess climbed out.

“Kyle!” Maria called, waving to attract his attention.

Kyle pointed them out to Tess, and the two of them made their way over. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry, I had to work late.”

“So responsible,” Tess said, smiling proudly.

“I went home to change, though,” Kyle added, “and I found something in the mail. You guys should come see this.” He motioned for Max, Michael, and Maria to follow him as he and Tess made their way back over to the car. He opened up the backdoor, pulled out a box, and held it out for them to peer inside. “Ta-da!”

“Hey,” Michael said. “Graduation robes.”

“What? Oh my god, let me see,” Maria said, eager. They’d placed their orders for their graduation caps and gowns a few months ago. It was about damn time they got them. She pulled out one of the robes, noting the navy blue color. “Hey, not bad,” she said. “So much better than the gold robe I had to wear at our high school graduation.”

“Actually,” Kyle said, “that’s one of our robes. The girls robes are, uh . . . a different color.”

“Okay, well, let me see it.” She tossed the navy blue robe to Michael and reached into the box, looking for the one robe of a different color. It didn’t take her long to find it. It was . . . bright. And horrible.

“Oh my god,” she said, pulling out a smaller robe that was obviously hers. “This is disgusting!” The robe had to be the most repulsive blue color she had ever seen in her life. Not navy blue. Not regular blue. Not even sky blue. It was . . . she didn’t even know how to describe it. “Sick!”

“Whoa,” Michael said. “That thing is butt-ugly.”

“What is this?” she shrieked, in shock that the girls of the class of 2008 were getting the short end of the graduation attire stick. “It’s like . . . it’s like not a normal blue! This is not an attractive color. How the hell am I supposed to wear this?”

“Don’t,” Michael suggested. “Be a nudist for graduation. You know you want to.”

“It’s like . . . blue-screen blue!” There, she’d finally found a way to describe it. “You know, like the blue-screens they use when they film movies or TV shows? It’s like that kind of blue. And it’s huge! What the hell, I thought I ordered a small!”

“Medium was the smallest size, I guess,” Kyle said.

“What the fuck?”

Kyle shrugged.

“Oh my god!” She was totally freaking out. After four years of looking good and being the desire of almost every living thing on campus, she was going out . . . like this? In baggy, blue-screen blue? It just seemed so wrong. “This is a monstrosity!”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Maria,” Max assured her. “You could make anything look great.”

“Not this.” She gave Tess a pleading look. “Do you think you could help me out with this, make it more fashion-forward?”

“Well, I could try,” Tess said. “Maybe you should go put it on first, see how it looks.”

Maria shook he head vehemently. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on,” Kyle urged her. “I’ll go try mine on, too.”

“We all will,” Michael decided. “Let’s go.”

“Wait . . .” Maria had little choice in the matter as Michael grabbed her arm, and she and her boys and Tess headed inside. They all went upstairs, looking for a few empty rooms to change in, but since most rooms were occupied by couples engaging in explicit sexual activity, they settled for the one empty bedroom they could find instead.

“Don’t look,” Maria said as she pulled down her shorts and stepped out of them. “Michael, I said don’t look!”

A minute or so later, she was in her blue-screen blue gown, feeling a little drafty. She was definitely going to have to wear a dress under that. “Oh my god,” she groaned, turning around to see Michael and Max and Kyle. She actually didn’t know what to think when she saw them. They all looked so good. They all looked . . . like adults. They were adults. Well, Michael was barely an adult, but . . .

1.

She sighed, suddenly feeling a little sad. It was almost over. In two more weeks, they would put on those graduation outfits for real, walk across that stage, get their diplomas, and college would be over. It had simultaneously been the best and worst part of her life.

“Wow,” she said. “You guys look . . .” She smiled. She couldn’t tell them how good they really looked. One of them would be too modest. The other two would be too arrogant. “Really ridiculous,” she finished finally. “Guys, the hats . . .”

“You’re wearing one, too,” Michael pointed out. “Blue-screen blue.”

“Do I look okay?” she asked them.

“Yeah, you definitely look okay,” Michael replied, smiling.

“Nobody else is gonna be able to pull that color off, Maria,” Kyle said. “You’re lucky you can.”

“You look great,” Max echoed the sentiment.

“Thanks,” she said, feeling nostalgic. All of a sudden, she wanted to hop on a time machine and go back a few years. Four years. Eight years. Didn’t matter. She just didn’t want it to end yet.

“Wow,” Kyle said. “A lot’s changed since we first got here, hasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Maria said. “I got a boyfriend.”

“I got a girlfriend,” Michael pointed out.

Kyle chuckled. “I lost a girlfriend.”

“I lost my virginity,” Max put in, “and failed a class.”

“I flew on an airplane,” Michael offered.

“I screwed up a dance,” Maria said.

“We got our mortgage paid off,” Kyle added lastly. “With my dad’s help, of course. But yea us.”

Maria smiled, blinking back the tears in her eyes. As much as she hated college, she really did love it more than anything.

Kind of like Michael.

“Guys,” Tess said softly, interjecting herself into their circle. “I don’t mean to interrupt the Oprah moment . . .”

“What? Oprah moment?” Michael spat. “We don’t have those.”

“Yeah, yeah, we have Dr. Phil moments,” Kyle joked. “There’s a difference.”

Maria laughed. She was going to miss this. She wanted to believe that it was all going to carry on after college like this. Maybe it would. But there was always the possibility that it wouldn’t.

“Let me take your guys’ picture,” Tess offered, taking out her cell phone. She flipped it open, pressed a few buttons, and held it out at them. “Alright, get together now, future graduates.”

“Blue-screen blue,” Maria muttered as the four of them crowded together for a picture. Kyle stood on the left, Max beside him, and Maria stood in between Max and Michael. Just as Tess was about to take the picture, though, Maria felt Michael’s hands beneath her, picking her up.

“Michael, what’re you--”

“Grab her, guys,” he said.

“What?” she shrieked as Kyle took hold of her legs, leaving her feet to dangle, and Max supported her with his hands beneath her hips and waist. Michael held up her shoulders and kept her from falling. The three of them held her out in front of them horizontally, ridiculously, and she laughed. “You guys are stupid!”

“Ah, shut up, DeLuca,” Michael teased. “Alright, we’re ready now, Tess.”

“Okay,” she said. “One . . . two . . .” She snapped the picture without saying three. She took a look at it and smiled. “That’s a good one.”

“Let’s take some more,” Kyle said, setting Maria’s legs down. Max and Michael set her down as well, and Kyle suggested, “How about a dog pile?”

“Dog pile?” Maria echoed. “On who?” She noticed the mischievous grins on Kyle and Michael’s faces a moment too late, and in an instant, they had tackled her down onto the floor and were lying atop her, not crushing her by any means, but definitely piling. “Ah! You guys!” she yelped. “Max, give me a hand here.”

Tess took the picture just as Max reached down to grab Maria’s hand and try to pull her out from underneath the pile. Eventually, he succeeded, and Maria took a moment to kick both Michael and Kyle in the sides. They just laughed and said “ow” a couple of times, and Tess took pictures of that, too.

The rest of the pictures continued to consist of the four of them acting like big kids, and Maria loved it. There was a picture of her and Kyle doing a butt-bump dance move that was bound to be absolutely hilarious when she put it up on her MySpace. There was an even more hilarious picture of Kyle and Michael acting all macho, pointing down to their crotches and giving a thumbs-up. Even Max lightened up and let Tess take a few pictures of him puffing out his cheeks while Maria tugged on his ears. None of them could stop laughing.

By far, though, her favorite pictures were the ones she took with Michael. There was one where she was pretending to behead him with her graduation hat. After that, Michael took the hat from her and used it to spank her butt. Tess got a picture of that, too. She pretended to knee him in the groin—another picture—and had to fight the temptation to do it for real. The last picture Tess took was of the two of them just looking at each other and smiling. She seemed to think that was the best one.

“Wow,” Kyle said, once they were all done. “That was pretty much awesome.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed. “Anyone else sweltering, though?”

“Sweltering?” Michael echoed. “Max, when are you gonna start talking like a normal person?”

“When are you gonna start learning the English language, Michael?” Max retorted.

“Oh. Touché, man,” Michael acknowledged. “Alright, Maria, try not to look. I’m gonna get shirtless.” He grinned and took off his graduation robe. He was indeed shirtless until, unfortunately, he put his black t-shirt back on. Max and Kyle did the same thing. They took a little persuading, but she finally convinced them to turn around while she got back into her clothes. After they were all dressed, they passed Tess’s cell phone around, looking at the pictures.

“Ah, this is nice,” Michael commented about a picture of all four of them making funny faces. “We rock, guys.”

“We rock,” Kyle agreed. “Maria, did you see these?”

She nodded, not really able to say anything. She felt a lump in her throat, but she didn’t want to get emotional, not when they were all having so much fun. Not in front of them.

Why do all good things come to an end? she wondered, wishing she wasn’t feeling this way. She hadn’t ever expected to feel this way.

“You know what, I think Max is right. It is kinda sweltering in here,” she said, though she was only halfway sure what the word meant. “I think I’m gonna go outside and get some air.” She handed her graduation gown and cap to Max and hurried out of the room before they could ask her what was wrong. What was wrong was that they only had two weeks left before graduation day. That didn’t seem long enough.

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

Michael watched Maria leave the room and head downstairs. She was definitely making tracks. She was upset about something, and he didn’t like to see her upset. Unless she was upset with him, because then she yelled at him and that was always fun.

“I’m gonna go get some air, too,” he said, following after her.

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

Unable to get a hold of Michael, Liz’s first thought was to call Max. But she decided against that because she didn’t want to be an inconvenience to him. He was probably busy, and she wasn’t his girlfriend by any means.

She ended up calling a cab—the obnoxious, yellow, gas-guzzling kind. It pulled up out front, and she felt sad. Michael was supposed to be there to get her. Michael had promised he would be. Yet here was the cab.

“Hi,” she said quietly as she opened the door.

“Rothman Hall on the university campus, right?” the cab driver confirmed.

“Right.” She wasn’t going to go to Michael’s place now. No. Not now. If he’d been there to pick her up, she would’ve spent the night with him, but he hadn’t been there, so . . .

She stared out the window as the cab driver drove her down the freeway, and she fought to hold in tears.

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

Since it was a Sunday, campus was pretty dead. Most people were either at the car bash or holed up in their rooms studying for tests they should have started studying for Friday. Maria didn’t pass one other person when she left the fraternity house. Campus was vacated, and she was okay with that. She needed to be alone with her thoughts.

She sat down on a grassy knoll near Sampson Hall and sighed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sat there with her arms wrapped around them, thinking and looking around. She smiled and blinked back tears as she glanced over at the steps of Cothman Hall and remembered the time during the summer when she, Michael, and Kyle had gotten so drunk in the morning and mooned half the incoming freshman class. And over there at the intersection was where she had almost gotten run over by a biker her sophomore year. Michael had grabbed her and pulled her out of the way, though, and then he’d thrown a rock at the biker. And right in front of her was the sidewalk she and Max had walked on during the infamous torrential downpour of rain two years ago. He had let her use his umbrella. She had the best friends. She really did.

And of course, there was her dance team gymnasium, too. It was dark that night. No one was in there. But she’d spent hours and hours in there, teaching, choreographing, doing what she was best at. Good times. Ridiculously good times and even better memories.

She sighed shakily, wishing she wasn’t getting so nostalgic. It was just college.

It was just the best four years of her life.

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

He was surprised she didn’t notice him. They were always so perceptive of each other. She must have been really deep in thought if she didn’t know he was there.

He stood back and watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. He couldn’t. It was too complicated. It had been complicated for awhile now.

Maria DeLuca. Her name rolled across his mind as he stared at her. That girl was beautiful, insane, and his best friend. From the moment he’d first met her and exchanged passionate insults with her, he’d known she would always be in his life. Always.

And here she was.

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

Maria was just about to allow one tear—only one tear—to fall when she heard the sound of someone unmistakable clearing his throat.

“Wow,” she said, slowly turning her head to glance up at him. “Stalking. That really turns me on.”

“I bet it does.” Michael grinned and made his way over to her. He sat down on her left and, instead of looking around campus like she’d been doing, stared straight at her. “You alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Why’d you follow me?” she asked, though she was happy he had.

“‘Cause I felt like it,” he replied simply. “Why’d you come all the way out here in the first place?”

“‘Cause I felt like it,” she echoed back. She smiled at him a little and rolled her eyes, knowing that he would just sit there and annoy her until she told him what was going on in her head. “No, actually, I . . .” She waited a moment, hoping he wasn’t going to laugh at her seriousness. “Back at the party, we were all trying on our graduation outfits and taking those goofy pictures and . . . it just kinda dawned on me . . .” She locked eyes with him, surprised that he was listening so intently. “College is almost over, and I don’t want it be.”

2.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out and he abruptly closed it again. Obviously he didn’t want it to be over, either.

“It’s just a little sad,” she said quietly.

“Maria--”

“Michael.” She turned so that her whole body was facing him and moved in a few inches closer, needing to be nearer to him. “Nothing’s gonna change, right? I mean, we’re still gonna be best friends who argue and infuriate each other, and make each other laugh, and act crazy, and occasionally have semi-deep conversations like these. Right?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, of course.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” Anything else was unacceptable.

“Yeah, don’t worry, DeLuca,” he said, giving her a pat on the back as he rose to his feet again. “We’re pretty much stuck with each other. And I’m okay with that. ‘Cause I wouldn’t wanna be stuck with anyone else.” He smiled.

She gazed up into his eyes, feeling her heart flutter. Did he have any idea what he was saying, or were those just random words? Because, either way, they thrilled her.

He walked over to the sidewalk, planted his feet down there, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I hope you stay out here ‘til 11:30,” he said, his eyes fixated on her.

“Why?” she asked, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. “What happens at 11:30?”

He just smiled then, that famous, mischievous smile, and let the seconds tick by.

The sprinklers came on seconds later, exactly at 11:30, dousing Maria in water. She gasped, tensed, and thought briefly about jumping up and running over to the dryness of the sidewalk where Michael was, but it would have been of no use. She was soaked almost instantly. Water sprang up from the ground, but instead of making her freak out, it made her smile.

Michael laughed so hard he was slapping his knees. He pointed at her and made a joke about her being “all wet,” and she couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. She was sitting under a sprinkler waterfall. And she loved it.

That wasn’t the only thing she loved.

She sprang to her feet and ran over to Michael. He tried to slip out of the way, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the water.

“Come on, Michael!”

He didn’t protest to the best of his ability. No, in fact, he sort of let her pull him into the sprinkler onslaught. He got soaked immediately, his normally upright hair flattening out and pressing to his forehead. She giggled at how funny he looked and shoved him backwards gently into an even bigger stream of water.

“Oh, you bitch!” he exclaimed, smiling as he shook the hair out of his eyes.

“Come and get me!” she teased, running away from him.

He growled and ran through the water, catching up with her almost instantly. She squealed in delight as he came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her up off the ground. He twirled her around in a circle, and she playfully hit at his arms, halfway laughing and halfway screaming to put her down.

He’d set her back down on her own two feet for only a moment before she shoved him backward into the water torrent. He retaliated immediately by charging at her, bending down low, and looping his hands around her legs. She screamed as he hoisted her up over his shoulder, and she was powerless to stop it. He spun around in a circle a few times, making her sufficiently dizzy before setting her down on the ground again. She was laughing so hard that she fell down onto her back.

She was so glad he had come out to find her. Playing around beneath the spray of campus sprinklers with him was so much better than being sad all by herself.

He smiled down at her and extended a hand to help her up. Still a mess of laughs and giggles, she reached up, clasped her hand with his, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She smiled, barely aware of the fact that she was standing again when . . .

His lips were on hers so suddenly, she didn’t even see it coming. They crash-landed there as if they were meant to be there. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness. There was just this. Her hands pressed against his chest while his rested in the small of her back, pulling her whole body close to his. His two lips brushed against her two lips, and nothing had ever felt so natural, so right. Michael Guerin and Maria DeLuca were kissing.

It was neither overbearing nor resistant, neither hard nor soft. His mouth moved on hers, and her heart raced out of control. It was passionate. It was perfect. And she was breathless.

The water roared around them, caressing them, but she didn’t even notice. Michael was all that existed to her in that moment, Michael and the kiss that made her come alive for the first time in her entire life.

Don’t stop, she felt like saying as he gradually began to pull his mouth away. He did that so slowly. That meant he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep kissing her. He had to want to keep kissing her, because . . . that was not a normal kiss. That was something more.

When his lips weren’t on hers anymore, it felt wrong. Wrong. He pressed his forehead against hers, his arms still resting on her back, and she looked straight ahead at her hands on his chest. Please just kiss me again, Michael, she thought. Please.

They were still so close, their breath still mingling together. For a moment, she wondered if they were just going to stand that way forever, and she hoped they would; but then he opened his mouth, and he said something.

“Sorry.”

Five letters. One word. Sorry.

He was sorry?

She pulled backward and gazed up into his eyes questioningly. He was sorry for kissing her? How could he be sorry for something so amazing?

Eight years . . . eight years of friendship and frustration had culminated in that one moment, and he was apologizing for it.

She lowered her hands and backed away. She couldn’t be touching him. She couldn’t be near him. Not now. No, she felt too . . . devastated was the only word that was coming to mind. That kiss had made her euphoric. That kiss had made him sorry. That kiss had probably made them both more confused and conflicted than they’d ever been in their lives before . . .

She took a few steps back, keeping her eyes locked with his. She didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything. For once in their lives, they were at a loss for words. They couldn’t say anything to each other. They had gotten too passionate.

The tears that had welled up in her eyes minutes earlier came back full force as cold water sprayed down on her previously warmed lips, and she snapped. She took off running back the way she had come, praying to God he wouldn’t follow her this time.

“Sorry.”

The tears leaked out, and she felt like a drama queen. She knew it would have been better for her to stay with him and talk to him, but she couldn’t stay. Because he was sorry. And she wasn’t.

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

The only thought that crossed Michael’s mind as he stood under the falling water of the sprinklers and watched Maria run away from him was, What did I just do?

He had kissed Maria. He had kissed his best friend. And it hadn’t been some small, insignificant kiss by any means. It was . . . it was . . .

Well, he’d never felt anything like that before.

“Maria,” he said, but his voice was merely a whisper. She was too far gone to hear him, and even though part of him wanted to run and catch up with her, he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. He had just managed to change eight years of solid argumentation and friendship with one irresistible, impulsive kiss.

He’d just done it. It had just . . . felt right at the time. But now . . .

Now he really felt like he’d really screwed things up.

What did I just do?









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Vael:

FUCK YEAH

Oh, I like that reaction, lol.
nibbles: Unable. to formulate. thought? Good! I like that reaction, too!
Sarah:

Of course, in typical Passion fashion, it ended on yet another frustrating moment.

Passion fashion? Ooh, I like that. You rhymer you!
crazysnape:

oh and Micheal is a really strange guy, come on ! He can't remember he is suppose to go to the airport for Liz, but know the exacte time the school's watering set on !

Yeah, he chooses to remember some things and ignore others. He's very weird.
Krista:

WELL APRIL. I'VE GOT NOTHING LEFT TO SAY UNTIL TOMORROW.

WELL KRISTA. It's tomorrow.
OliveMcKay:

ay ay ay! given all this, I can see why Michael would say he was sorry.

Yep. When Michael apologized for the kiss, it was mostly him taking a step back and looking at their tangled situation, realizing that it just got a whole lot more tangled. So he's sorry.
Tine:

and I just loved that picture taking scene! especially when the guys hold up Maria for the first one. and the way they're holding her is kinda symbolic:

Hey, I didn't really think about that, but that's a good observation! You're right!
Dreams_stars_Candy: Woohoo, a reader out of lurkdom! I'm glad to know you're enjoying this fic. Thank you for the feedback!
Elle:

Oh I am so happy he just finally kissed her, I was getting tried of shouting at Michael and Maria through my computer screen lol!!

All I can say is, even though they've kissed, you still might have to do some shouting at your computer screen. You'll see what I mean.
Alien_Friend:

Everyone is going to know something happened between them. I'm sure their flow will be disrupted.

Oh, yeah. They've had this incredibly strong friendship for eight years, and now they've kissed. That changes things. Their "flow" could definitely be awkward for awhile.
Nat:

I think I'm the only person not happy about the kiss. They cheated. I knew that the kiss was coming but I had hoped that they would come to realize their feelings and than dump Liz and Max first. It was a hot kiss but a wrong kiss none the less.

I'm glad you made this point! You're exactly right. It is cheating, no doubt about that, and cheating is never okay. No matter how you spin it, they've now done something that, to borrow a line from Heatwave, "feels so wrong but it feels so good."
mariadac:

I am upset that it didnt go straight to passionate sex and happily ever after, but that kiss was long worth the wait!!!

Oh, you know me, I could never do straight to sex and happily ever after. I gotta prolong the torture.
Leila: Another reader out of lurkdom! Thanks for your lengthy feedback! I'm glad you like the story, and I like that you pointed out the irony of Michael initiating the kiss. The most clueless one of them all just turned the whole story upside down.
cassie:

Also Michael and Maria have never been in committed relationships before - so the boundaries that exist in them are completely new for them.

That's true. Michael and Maria aren't even used to having boundaries. I'm glad to know you're still reading, by the way! Thanks for the feedback.
Christina:

Look April, I just compared you to William Shakespeare. How awesome is that!

Very awesome! I'm glad the kiss made you feel all "warm and tingly." I debated for a long time where to have them share their first kiss, and this image popped into my mind. I thought it was not un-romantic, so . . .




You see, when I told you guys I knew how many updates there was until the kiss, I wasn't lying. And it wasn't that many! Anyway, just so you know, you guys waited until page 904 for the kiss. Can you believe that? Thanks for sticking with this story so long. I hope you'll all continue to stick with it; it's a freakin' roller coaster ride, so hold on tight.









Part 89









Liz pushed open the door to her room and dumped her bag inside. She was too tired to unpack her things. She’d do it tomorrow.

She sighed, distressed, and shut the door. She didn’t bother to turn the light on. For some reason, she was okay with being alone in the dark. She felt as though she were alone in the dark a lot of the time, even when she was with her friends, even when she was with Michael.

She sat down on her bed, feeling bad. Worse than she’d ever felt before. She wasn’t depressed, but she was close to it.

Unwillingly, she started to cry. Sudden tears shook her body, and she couldn’t stop them. She brought one hand up to cover her mouth and try to stifle the sounds of her own sorrow, but it didn’t do much use. She could hear herself crying out loud. She could see herself crying in the mirror. She could feel herself crying, and it felt horrible.

Michael wasn’t a bad guy. He really wasn’t. But he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, either. And that was okay, too. She didn’t need him to be perfect. She just needed him to remember that she was alive, because half the time, it seemed as though he forgot about her. He’d forgotten about her tonight at the airport. Yet again.

She tilted over onto her side and curled up in a ball, allowing herself to cry freely now. She figured she deserved it. She really wanted to make things work with Michael. But how much longer could she hold on?

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

Michael made his way past Courtney and a bunch of the other drunk girls who tried to throw themselves at him the moment he returned to the car bash and found Max and Kyle again. Shit. Max, he thought. Was it bad that he hadn’t even thought about Max and Liz until now? He was dating Liz. Maria was dating Max. They kissed each other . . .

Shit.

“Hey, guys, have you seen Maria?” he asked his friends. “Did she come back here yet?”

“I thought you went to find her,” Max said.

“Well, yeah, I did, but then I, uh . . . lost her again,” Michael admitted, conveniently not looking his friend in the eye. He hadn’t lost Maria. She’d run away. He kissed her and she ran away.

Wait a minute, he thought, suddenly panicked. What if I really did lose her?

“Well, is she alright?” Max asked.

“Yeah, I think she’s just a little . . . nostalgic or something.”

Max nodded. “You talked to her?”

“Uh . . .” Not so much. “Sort of.”

“Fascinating,” Kyle said. “Tell me something. Why are you all wet?”

“Oh, uh . . .” Michael ran one hand through his hair, trying to get it spiked up again. “Sprinklers.”

“Oh.” Kyle nodded.

“Wait a minute,” Max cut in. “So we don’t know where Maria is?”

“She probably went home,” Michael figured. He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t see her for the rest of the night. Rest of the week, even. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how to interpret her reaction to that kiss. On the one hand, she’d definitely kissed him back. (God, that girl had a great pair of lips.) On the other hand, though, she took off like a track star. That couldn’t be a good thing.

Oh yeah, he thought. I really fucked things up.

“So, Maria’s heading home all alone at night,” Max said. “I don’t really like the sound of that.”

“It’s alright. She can take care of herself, trust me,” Michael assured him.

“Yeah, I know, but . . . you guys mind if I take the car?” Max asked. “I wanna try to find her, give her a lift.”

“Sure, man.” Kyle reached into his pocket and handed him the keys.

“Thanks.” Max turned and made his way through the dwindling crowd of people toward their vehicle. Michael wanted to go with him, but walking in the door with Max . . . too weird right now.

“Where’s Tess?” he asked Kyle. He wasn’t sure why he was asking. Probably to try to get his mind on something else.

“Around here somewhere,” Kyle answered. “You alright, man?”

“Yeah,” Michael answered a bit quickly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Well, you’re just actin’ weird,” Kyle said. “You know, weirder than usual. That’s pretty weird, man. You miss Liz or something?” He laughed.

“No, that’s not it,” Michael said, but then something dawned on him, crashed into him like a load of bricks. Liz. “Oh . . . shit!”

“What?” Kyle asked.

“I was supposed to pick her up the at the airport . . . a long time ago. Ah, fuck. Max!” He ran after his other friend—the friend whose girlfriend he’d just planted one on—and stopped him just as he was getting in the car. “Maxwell, I need the keys.”

“Why?” Max asked.

“It’s a Liz thing. Please, man? She’s gonna be really pissed.” He'd really been a horrible boyfriend to her that night.

Max sighed and said, “Alright. I can walk.” He handed Michael the keys, and Michael quickly got in the car.

“Everything alright?” Max asked him.

Oh, man, I feel guilty, Michael thought. Max was his friend. Maria was his friend. Guilt. It was a new thing for him. It sucked.

“Everything’s fine,” he said as he turned the car on and quickly shifted gears into reverse. “I just gotta haul ass.”

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

Maria stepped inside the house and gently shut the door. She was the only one home right now, but soon the guys would be home. Kyle, no problem. Max and Michael . . . big problems. Both of them. The whole situation had never been simple, but it had never been quite this messy before, either.

Oh god, she thought, leaning back against the door. That really happened tonight, didn’t it? I didn’t just dream it?

She slid down onto the floor, feeling too many emotions to distinguish. She felt as though she were feeling both ends of the emotional spectrum. Was she supposed to smile or frown? Because part of her was completely overjoyed that the guy she liked had kissed her. And it had been an amazing kiss, full of life and electricity. It had, hands down, been the best kiss of her life. Probably the best moment of her life. That good.

But the other part of her remembered two people named Liz and Max who would be a lot less enthused by that kiss, not to mention the fact that Michael himself had apologized for it.

Sorry.

That was her new least favorite word ever in the history of words. She hated it. So much.

Her cell phone rang shrilly, breaking her out of her thoughts. She looked down at the caller ID, and her heart dropped. Max. What was she supposed to say to him? He loved her, and she’d just kissed someone else. Maybe she should just start off by telling him she didn’t love him back.

She decided on hello instead. “Hello?”

“Maria, hey, where’d you go?” Max asked.

“I was just . . . walking, and I walked home,” she set, reaching up to run her free hand through her wet hair. Oh, yeah, as if that kiss hadn’t been incredible enough, there had also been the romantic water spraying all around them. God, she and Michael had a thing for water. First the sore-ankle shower, now the sprinkler kiss . . . She shook her head.

“So you’re at home right now?” Max asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well, Kyle and Tess and I are gonna be heading back right now.”

“What about Michael?” she asked.

“He took the car, said something about Liz.”

Dammit, she thought. So the first thing he did after apologizing for their kiss was go find his girlfriend? God.

“We’re gonna be home soon, though, alright?”

“Okay.”

“And we’re bringing that lovely blue screen blue graduation gown with us.”

“Great,” she said. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then.”

“Uh-huh.” She closed her phone and let out a heavy sigh. How was it possible that she had gone from feeling the happiest she had ever felt in her life—kissing Michael—to feeling like this all so fast?

Damn you, Michael Guerin.

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

Michael knocked on the door to Liz’s room and knew it was bad when the door didn’t open within ten seconds. It was a dorm room; it wasn’t that big. If the person inside didn’t open up the door within ten seconds, they were obviously either not there or just trying to keep you out.

He knocked again. This time, a few seconds later, the door opened. He came face to face with his very unhappy girlfriend. She looked both pissed off and sad. That didn’t bode well for him.

“Hey,” he said.

She just stared at him in disbelief and grunted.

“I tried calling you,” he said, “but you didn’t answer your phone.”

“Funny. Same thing happened to me when I tried calling you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. My phone’s been fucked up lately.” That was a lie. His phone worked perfectly fine. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“I don’t know, can you?” She walked away from the door, and he wasn’t really sure how to interpret her answer, so he hesitantly stepped inside and shut the door.

“I went to the airport first,” he said, “but you were already gone, so . . .”

“Yeah, I was already gone,” she said. “You know why? Oh, ‘cause it’s 12:30.”

“Yeah, I kinda lost track of time.”

“Kinda?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Liz.” Wow, he had apologized to both the girls in his life that night.

“You’re sorry?” she echoed. “For forgetting about me? Again?”

“I didn’t forget about you.”

“Oh, really? Then where were you, Michael? ‘Cause I was there. My plane got in late, and you still weren’t there. I just . . . I can’t believe you left me at the airport again. I really . . . you know, I should’ve arranged for Max to come pick me up. At least he would’ve actually been there.”

“Come on, Liz, we’ve been over this. I’m not Max. I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

“And I don’t want you to be,” she said. “I don’t want you to be perfect, Michael, but I want you to remember that I exist. You know? Think about me once in awhile. Is that too much to ask?”

“I do think about you, Liz,” he assured her. “I . . .” He paused a moment, trying to think of something that would get her off his back. That was when he started blurting out the first words that came to mind. “I was thinking about you tonight. That’s why I wasn’t at the airport.”

She made a face of confusion. “Wait, so you forgot about me because you were too busy thinking about me?” She laughed. “Right. That’s ridiculous even for you, Michael.”

“No, I . . .” This was fucked up. This was one fucked up night. He figured he couldn’t possibly make things any worse.

Yet he did.

“I was looking up . . . houses. And apartments and stuff. For the two of us.” The lies just spilled right out. "Online."

Her eyes widened, and her expression immediately softened. “What?”

“Yeah, for . . . you and me. I was thinkin’ we could move in together this summer. Someplace.” Oh fuck, what am I saying? he wondered. What am I saying? He was lying his ass off, and Liz didn’t seem to notice.

“Really?” She took a step toward him. “You really wanna live with me?”

No, actually, he really didn’t. He was perfectly fine living where he was with Kyle and Max and . . . Maria. Mostly Maria.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” he lied. “I mean . . . yeah.”

“Oh my god,” she said. “Michael, that’s so . . .”

“Romantic?” he filled in. If he could somehow manage to bring on the romance, he had nothing to worry about.

“Unexpected,” she said. “But . . . well, yeah, I wanna get a place with you, too. I mean . . . but, Michael, you can’t keep doing this, messing up and expecting me to just take you back.”

“I know,” he said, which was exactly why he wasn’t going to utter a word about kissing Maria. Liz would never get over it. Hell, he would never get over it, either, but for very different reasons.

“I mean it, Michael,” she said again. “I love being with you, but sometimes it’s really hard.”

He nodded, understanding now why that might be. His attraction towards Maria had been threatening to explode for eight years now, and tonight it finally had.

“Oh, Michael, I really wanna make this work, though,” she said, moving towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, pressing her cheek against his chest. “You’re my first boyfriend. I don’t want it to end badly. I don’t want it to end at all.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, feeling like a jackass. A few months ago, that feeling wouldn’t have bothered him one bit. But things were different now. He was different. He still wasn’t very mature, nor very sensitive or a really nice guy, but he wasn’t a bad guy, either. At that moment, he felt like one, but he wasn’t one. Not really.

Was he?

“I don’t mean to complain so much,” she said. “It’s just . . . it’s a girl thing, I think.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her.

She sighed. “But it’ll be better now. ‘Cause we can get a place, and soon it’ll be just the two of us.”

“Hmm.” He frowned. Now he was giving her all sorts of false hope. Not good. Not good at all. He felt like he was on Screw-Up Highway, and he was pushing the accelerator down as hard as he could.

“Hey, come here,” he said, placing his finger under her chin. He lifted her head to look up at him and decided to kiss her, just to see if maybe it would measure up to that kiss with Maria. Liz had gotten very skilled over the past few months, knew how to work her mouth pretty well now, and he definitely wasn’t disappointed.

But he wasn’t on fire, either. And kissing Maria . . . even though they’d been standing in the midst of a storm of water, he’d felt on fire.

He released Liz’s lips gently, feeling even more like an ass now. He was comparing kisses.

“What was that for?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just a way of sayin’ I’m sorry,” he replied.

“Hmm.” Liz was normal again, the girl who wanted nothing more than to please him and make him happy. “Well, if that’s how you say you’re sorry, I think you have some more apologizing to do.” She rose up on her tip-toes and tried to kiss him again, but he leaned back slightly this time to avoid it.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired tonight,” he lied. “You wanna just get some sleep?”

“Sure,” she said. “Sure.”

“Okay.” He let go of her and began to unmake her bed. For once in his life, sex was unthinkable. Lying in bed next to her thinking about Maria was going to be hard enough.

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

Maria ran her hands through her wet hair, trying to shake it out. It was drying fast, but she wanted it to dry faster. Because when she looked at herself in the mirror and saw her wet hair, she started thinking about it again . . . the kiss.

She heard the front door open, and she tensed. Max.

“Maria?”

She forced herself to loosen up and look less suspicious when she heard him coming down the hallway. He pushed open the door to her room and said her name again. “Maria?”

“Hey,” she said, attempting to smile, but it didn’t really work out. Smiling was not an option after the increasingly dramatic turn her life had just taken.

“Hey,” he said. “Oh, here’s your graduation stuff.” He handed her the horrible blue gown and cap.

“Thanks.” She set those items down on the foot of her bed.

“Michael, said you were feeling a little nostalgic,” Max went on to say.

“Michael doesn’t know when to shut the hell up,” she snapped.

“What?”

She sighed rubbed her forehead. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Did you just get out of the shower?”

“What?”

He pointed at her wet hair.

“Oh, no, there was a sprinkler situation,” she replied.

“Oh, you too, huh? Michael had the same . . . the same problem.”

She tensed again, unable to help it.

“You alright?” Max asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I-I just think maybe I’m coming down with something,” she lied quickly.

“Oh, that good old spring virus is goin’ around again,” Max said. “Remember when I got that last year? I could only study for an hour each day.”

“Yeah, that would . . . suck,” she said. “I think I just need some rest.”

“You sure? I could warm you up some soup or . . .”

“No. Thanks.”

He nodded. “Okay. Well, do you wanna come sleep in my room?”

No, she couldn’t do that. Not after what had happened. Michael was probably off having sex with Liz at that very moment, but she could not do that with Max right now. Even sleeping in the same bed with him was off limits until she got herself under control and figured out what the hell was going on with her and Michael.

“Actually, I kinda just wanna lay in my own bed,” she said. “Plus, I don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Okay,” he said. “Alright, well, if you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

“I will.”

“Alright.” He cupped the back of her head in his hands and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Maria.”

“Goodnight, Max.” She waited until he had left the room to fall back onto her bed and let out a heavy sigh of distress. What was she going to do? Over the past three and a half months, everything had gotten so jumbled. It was a mess. How on earth was she supposed to sort it all out without ruining two eight-year friendships in the process?










TBC . . .

-April

(See you guys in a few days!)

[April]

I'm back! Ugh, I would've updated about an hour ago, but I did an incredibly moronic thing and locked myself out of my dorm room! I'll tell you, it's a process to get back in!

mrs_guerin:

as mentioned i guess i was expecting two steps backwards after the one step forward we got.

Yep, that seems to be one of the staples of this fic. Every time a bit of progress is made, another roadblock appears.
Krista:

You remember that hole Maria dug herself into when she accidentally blurted out to Max that she loves him? I'd say Michael has climbed into that hole and helped Maria dig. They just word vomit anything, don't they?

Yeah, word vomit is a great way to put it. And all that word vomit is definitely adding to the "tsunami of disarray and confusion," as you put it.
Sara:

AHHHHHHH!!! These people are driving me INSANE!!!

Good! They're meant to!
OliveMcKay:

I didn't see that coming April. This story has had so many twists and turns lately

I'm glad you think so. All I'll say is that there's more to come.
Vael:

Curiosity might kill this cat... controversial with everything i've read i can only see one thing as controversial, and that would be having Alex as a serial rapist who slashes his victims to ribbons .. before getting nasty erghh i have a sick line of thought.

Ew, you really do! That sent me to a nasty visual place! lol
Lelia:

I swear when my notebook wasn't in front of me I would bang my head on the table because of Michael's stupidity.

Oh, I don't blame you. I've done some head-banging on several occassions while writing this damn thing.
lilah:

Live together?! He told Liz he wants them to live together?! Dear God, NO! Please don't let that happen.

Yeah, Michael definitely doesn't want that to happen, either. But now he's in the same situation Maria has been in the entire time. He's started the lie, and even though he wants to end it . . . that's easier said that done.
crazysnape:

Is it me or "the online " can betray him ? I mean Liz will know he was at the uni hitting a car, and parting, no ?
Oh, is the Las vegas' contest going to be known by Max and Liz ?

Liz and Max remain oblivious to a lot of things, so the "online" part of his lie won't betray him. She's so glad to hear that he wants to move in with her that she won't think to question whether he was really at home looking up apartments online. And Max and Liz will never find out about the Vegas contest. M+M got away with that one.
Alien_Friend:

And she's making herself look stupid right now. I can't believe she fell for that insane lie. No girl should be that desperate to keep a guy. I know she's young but goodness love yourself. She seriously needs to find herself again because defining herself by being Michael's girlfriend is not working for her.

Exactly! Liz's issues all stem from insecurity. Like you said, she needs to love herself. But she doesn't. She lacks self-esteem, self-confidence, self-respect. And a lot of that stems from being Michael's girlfriend. He's never intentionally hurt her, but he has hurt her. She never should have started dating him. Bad idea.
Nat: I was waiting for someone to type those three letters.
tequathisy:

Silly, naive me. I foolishly thought that once Michael and Maria locked lips that all the lies and stupidity would stop. Not multiply.

I'm soooooo evil, aren't I? Trust me, it's more entertaining when the lies multiply.
Christina:

I suppose that's why I wouldn't be surprised if Maria just happened to say yes to Max if/when he asks her to marry him.

Well, all I'll say is that you WILL see Max pop the question. He's got that ring for a reason. So I guess Maria has a 50/50 chance of saying either yes or no. You'll have to wait and see!
spacegirl23:

Okay, a bunch of dumbass moronic moves that are not making anything progress between the two. Sigh. Just the way we love 'em.

Yeah, they wouldn't be Michael and Maria if they weren't making some mistakes.
killjoy:

I get the feeling Michael is a 'right now in the moment' type person and all he knows is that what he said got him out of trouble but he hasn't thought of the problems it's going to cause in the future.

Most definitely. And now that Michael's lying like a rug (just like Maria has been this entire time), he's going to find himself having to think about the future. And not only his future, but Maria's and Max's and Liz's.
cassie:

And I'm worried about everyone's friendships in the house - specifically the ones involving Max.

Yeah, you know, friendship plays a BIG part in this story, so . . . yeah, I'd say it's not wrong to be worried.
nibbles:

It's hard to believe that I'm not happy to know that there is still one third of this fic to go because I really don't know how much more of this I can handle before I go completely doolally.

Doolally? I've never heard that word before! Oh, and if you can't decide who you're most mad at (Liz or Max or Michael or Maria) I'm going to conclude that you're equally mad at all of them.


Alright, I REALLY didn't intend to get so musical with this fic, but I couldn't resist including the lyrics to "Tautou" by Brand New. It just seemed like perfect background music to one of these scenes. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PK3ZNpb8Q6g

Enjoy the update! Thanks as ALWAYS for the WONDERFUL FEEDBACK!










Part 90









What separates the winners from the losers is how a person reacts to each new twist of fate. Kyle groaned as he read over that quote from Donald Trump, the American billionaire, in his Entrepreneurial Business Understanding textbook. As far as he was concerned, Trump was a chump. That guy had sold out by doing a stupid reality TV show.

“When’s that final?” Tess asked him.

“Tomorrow,” he replied, forcing himself not to look at her when he said it. Tess was so cute, bouncing around in her pajama shorts and tank top. She was a distraction. A very good one.

She leaned across the kitchen counter, peered down at the book for one second, and said, “Ugh. All I saw was the word corporation, and that’s enough for me.”

He chuckled. “Well, you know, that’s how I feel about fashion, honey.”

“Shut up, fashion rocks!”

“No, business rocks.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“I will.” He promised.

She giggled. “You’re so weird, Kyle. I love you.”

He couldn’t help but look at her then and return the feeling. “I love you, too.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, then another, then another, then another. They could never stop.

Lucky for the studying he had left to do, the front door opened and Michael walked in. Kyle tore his lips away from Tess’s and said, “I was studying.”

“Hi, Michael,” Tess chirped. “You look really tired. You and Liz must’ve done it all night last night.”

“No, I just couldn’t sleep,” he said, tossing his jacket on the couch. He sat down beside Kyle at the counter and groaned, rubbing his head. “Oh, this sucks.”

“What?” Kyle asked.

“I have to finish my movie by, well, pretty much tomorrow, and I just feel like sleepin’ right now.”

“Ah, that’s what happens when you use the procrastination tactic,” Tess said knowingly. “I started studying early this year ‘cause I’m so awesome like that.”

“You are awesome,” Kyle agreed. “Guerin on the other hand . . . not so awesome right now.”

“Yeah, definitely not your finest hour in the appearance department. No offense,” Tess said.

“None taken,” he muttered. “So how are you guys?”

“Super happy,” Tess chirped. “Wanna know why? I’ll tell you. We have big news.”

Michael glanced at Kyle and asked, “Finally knocked her up, huh?”

Kyle shook his head. “Nope. Not that I know of . . .” He trailed off and gave Tess a questioning look, just in case.

She rolled her eyes. “No. I’m paying forty bucks a month for my freakin’ birth control. It better be doin’ its job.”

“Engaged then,” Michael guessed. “You guys are engaged.”

“No, not yet,” Kyle blurted. Oops.

Tess smiled at him and teased, “Nice job with the subtlety, Mr. Subtlety.” She laughed. “No, actually, our big news is . . .” She trailed off and looked to Kyle. “You tell him.”

Kyle closed his business book and proudly announced, “We found a house.”

“Really?” Michael said.

“Yep, down on Y street. And I mean, this isn’t just a house; it’s a house, you know. We could live there for the rest of our lives.”

“Easily,” Tess chimed in. “It’s really nice and really spacious, and there’s a pool in the back. How fetch is that?”

“Really . . . fetch,” Michael said slowly. “Whatever that means.”

Tess gave him a look. “Come on, hot-shot director. Haven’t you seen Mean Girls?”

He thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Oh, right. I mean, no. No, I haven’t . . .” Tess kept giving him that knowing look, though, so he finally gave in and confessed, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“Dude, I love that movie,” Kyle came right out and said, unashamed. “That was back when Lindsay Lohan was hot.”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael said. “Good old days.”

“Hello? Off-topic much?” Tess cut in. “House. Us. Ownage.”

“That’s pretty cool, guys,” Michael said. “It’s funny, though, Valenti. You just got this house’s mortgage paid off, and now you’re not gonna live in it much longer.”

Kyle shrugged exaggeratedly. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

“Yeah,” Michael said, staring down at the counter. “Actually, I’m not . . . I’m not gonna be livin’ here much longer, either, I don’t think.”

“What?” Tess asked, clearly confused. “Why not?”

He sighed. “Liz and I are gonna get a place, probably an apartment.”

“Whoa!” Kyle said. That shocked the hell out of him. “Since when?”

“Last night.”

“Oh, weird,” Tess said. “I can’t picture that. I still can’t picture the two of you dating.”

“Me, neither,” Kyle put in. Secretly, he hoped Michael backed out on this idea. He needed to stay in the house he was at with Maria. It was so obvious. “Dude, have you really given this any thought? ‘Cause movin’ in with a girl . . .”

“I already live with one girl,” he pointed out, “and Tess, you practically live here, too, it seems like.”

“Yeah, but . . .” Kyle paused, not really sure how to go about saying what he wanted to. “Tess and Maria are different than Liz.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He glanced at Tess for help, but she looked just as frustrated as he was. Michael didn’t understand subtlety, but at the same time, saying ‘you love Maria’ and dropping that bombshell on him would probably freak him out or at least cause him to get defensive.

When neither one of them answered, Michael went on and said, “Can you guys just not tell Maria? About the whole apartment thing. ‘Cause I wanna . . . I wanna tell her myself, but . . . not yet.”

“Sure.” Kyle had a feeling he probably understood why Michael didn’t want to tell Maria yet more than Michael did. “We won’t say a word.”

“Our lips are sealed,” Tess said, pretending to pull a zipper across her mouth. Two seconds later, though, she was talking again. “You know, it’s kinda sad, really. We have so many memories in this house. Orgies. Beerfests. Candyland.”

“I know,” Kyle said. “I’m gonna miss it.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Michael said, looking down the hallway. “Listen, I’m gonna go try to get some sleep. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Michael,” Tess said. “Good luck on your movie today.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need it.”

Kyle turned his head to look over his shoulder and watched curiously as Michael sulked down the hallway. The guy was not a sulker. Sulking was a Max thing. Something was strange . . .

“Did he smoke pot last night or something, ‘cause he’s totally . . .” Tess trailed off.

“I know.” Kyle watched in interest as the door to the bathroom flew open and Maria stepped out, wrapped in a towel, just as Michael was walking by. They sort of ran into each other and quickly backed away.

“Hey,” he said, looking straight ahead at the wall.

“Hey,” she echoed, staring down at her feet. Both of them just stood there for a minute, looking . . . awkward? Was that possible for Michael and Maria? Finally, though, she scurried into her bedroom and slammed the door, and Michael sulked the rest of the length of the hallway to his bedroom, closing the door on himself.

“Holy shit,” Kyle said as realization dawned on him. “Did you just see that?”

“Yep,” Tess said. “And I see your holy shit and raise you a holy fuck.”

Kyle smiled. Something had happened between Michael and Maria, and it was about time it had.

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

Fuck, was the only word that came to Maria’s mind as she leaned back against her bedroom door, distressed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. She and Michael had just done the mutual “hey” greeting. It was so . . . O.C. It wasn’t her and Michael at all.

This sucks. She sighed and combined her first thought and her second. Fuck, this sucks.

She stepped toward the center of her bedroom, trying to think of something else. Finals, maybe. No, that was just as horrible. Food? No, that would lead to stress eating. Clothes? There we go, she thought. Think about what you’re going to wear today. Concentrate on that.

She unhooked her towel from where she had tucked it in beneath her arm and slowly let it fall to the floor and pool at her feet. She was standing in the middle of her room, stark naked, when the door swung open.

“Maria, we need to talk.”

She gasped and quickly bent down to retrieve her towel when Michael poked his head in. “Michael!” She hurriedly concealed herself before he could get a better glimpse. Sure, he’d seen her naked plenty of times before, but now. . .

“Sorry,” he apologized, focusing his eyes on the floor.

She groaned, hating that word. “Don’t say that.” He’d already said it the night before.

“Sorry,” he apologized again.

She gave him an annoyed look. Was he trying to be irritating, or did it just come naturally? It was hard to tell with him.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes to look at her again. Their gazes met, and for an instant, Maria thought she might melt. He was looking at her differently now. It wasn’t necessarily a better or a worse look. Just . . . different. A different look because he was seeing her in a different light. He had to be thinking about that kiss. It was the only thing she could think about, so she liked to hope he was at least enduring the same agony.

She opened her mouth to say something, to point out the obvious and say they needed to talk, but just as her words were about to come out, her cell phone rang. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly made her way over to her desk to pick it up and answer it. She made sure to re-hook her towel beneath her arm before checking the Caller ID. She didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Maria,” a somewhat familiar voice rang out. “It’s Janet.”

She made a face, unsure. “Janet?”

“From the Charisma Dance Studio.”

Oh, shit, that would be my boss, Maria remembered. “Right, Janet. Hi.”

“I just wanted to call and see if you . . .”

Maria couldn’t help but tune her out when she cast a glance at Michael. He was backing up slowly out of the room, closing the door. She motioned wildly for him to stay, made a dozen facial expressions she immediately wished she could take back. But he just shook his head and shut the door. Apparently he was no longer in any hurry to talk about what had happened between them. She sighed heavily when he was gone. Fucking great.

“Maria, you still there?”

“Huh? Yeah,” she answered a bit too emphatically. “Sorry, my roommate was being . . .” Frustrating and sexy, she thought, but instead finished with, “obnoxious.”

“Well, I was just wondering if you would be able to start teaching tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “There’s a few young girls who are coming by after school. I thought they might benefit from your beginner hip hop class.”

“My class,” Maria echoed, still a little intimidated by the thought. “Right. Yes. Yes, they would. They would definitely benefit.”

“Great, so you’ve already got a routine made up?”

“A routine?” She laughed a little, happy that this was a phone call so Janet couldn’t see her cringe. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Wonderful,” Janet said cheerily. “Maybe you can get here at 3:00, show it to me, and we’ll fine tune anything we have to. And then the girls will be here around 4:00. Does that work out for you?”

“Um, yeah,” Maria answered, trying to think about what she had scheduled for the day. “I mean, I’ve got a final at noon, but . . . yeah, that won’t take too long. That’ll work out fine.”

“Great!” Janet chirped. “I’ll contact the girls’ parents, let them know it’s all set.”

“Great.”

“Well, I hope you’re as excited as I am.”

Maria smiled weakly. She would have been more excited had she not had so much other crap going on in her life. “I’m really excited,” she said, determined to see this as a good thing, an opportunity. She had wanted something else to think about. Now she had it. Now she had to choreograph a dance for kids—which was way harder than choreographing a dance for a dance team or herself—all within a day’s time. Now she had something else to stress about.

“Alrighty, I’ll see you at 3:00 then,” Janet confirmed.

“Alright.”

“Bye-bye now.”

“Bye.” Maria closed her phone, sighing again. She looked over longingly at the closed door. “Michael,” she whispered. Why hadn’t he just waited for her to get off the phone? They really needed to talk. There was no avoiding it. It had to happen sooner or later, and she voted sooner.

She was just about to set her phone back down on her desk when it rang again. Very annoyed, she flipped it open without checking the Caller ID and barked in a shrill tone, “What?”

For a moment, there was only silence. The second she was about to hang up, though, she heard an all too familiar voice.

“Maria?”

It was her mother. She knew without a doubt it was Amy DeLuca, calling from Africa or Bangladesh or wherever the hell she was now. She probably had her Bible in her free hand and a look of false superiority on her face.

Maria immediately closed the phone. She was in no mood to talk to her mom again. Or anyone, for that matter. She pressed a button on the side of her phone, turning it off. If her mom tried to call her back again, it would go straight to voicemail, and she would just delete all her voicemails later.

Feeling sorry for herself, she sat down on her bed and tried to concentrate on one thing. She had three options now: clothes, dancing, or Michael. She would have preferred to fixate on the former two, but the last one was the one that kept seeping back into her brain.

This day sucks, she thought, lying down on her side. She was cold, still wrapped up in her wet towel, but she didn’t have any motivation to get up and beautify herself. Michael probably wasn’t even going to look at her anyway, so what was the point?

“What’s wrong?”

She tensed. He was back. She hadn’t even heard the door open. “Nothing.”

“Who was that on the phone?”

She rolled over onto her back and turned her head to the side to look at him. “First my boss, then my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. Random, huh? She probably wants to come to graduation, but . . . I just hung up on her.”

He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes locked on her face as though he were afraid to look anywhere else.

She sighed, hating this. This was why she and Michael had never kissed in all the eight years of knowing each other, because of this.

“Michael . . .” Before she could get any more words out, she heard the front door open and Max’s voice ringing out, “Maria?”

She clutched her towel tighter to her chest and exchanged a worried glance with Michael. He was gone in an instant.

“Hey, Maxwell.” He gave him a sort of half-assed wave and headed back down the hallway without a second thought.

“Hey,” Max echoed, staring at him in confusion for a moment. “Hmm.” He walked into Maria’s room then, and shut the door. “Hey to you, too,” he said, smiling down at her.

“Hmm.”

He sat down on the side of her bed and said, “You know, I’m not used to having spare time on my hands. Being done with classes so early is actually kind of nice.”

“I wish I was done,” she muttered. “I have a final tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s no fun,” Max agreed. “Anything I can help you study for?”

She shook her head. “Not really. It’s History of Dance, which is one area where I think I might have slightly more expertise than you.”

He smiled. “That’s true. Just one small hint, though: Don’t spell DECADE.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

He gave her a soft pat on the thigh and said, “Well, if you’re gonna be studying tonight, maybe I should go pick up some extra hours at the tutor center. There’s a lot of people who need last minute cramming help.”

“Such a hard worker,” she remarked.

“Oh, if only I’d worked a little harder on that biology final.” He sighed wistfully but didn't seem to get too upset over it. The boy seemed to be in a really good mood. “How are you feeling?” he asked her. “Still sick?”

Was that the excuse she had come up with last night? She could barely remember. “Yeah, I feel . . . bad,” she said, and that was true. She did feel bad. About kissing Michael. About using Max. About changing Liz. About a lot of things.

“Well, I know I probably shouldn’t kiss you then,” Max said, “but . . .” He smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips. She kept her mouth virtually still, unable to respond because responding to Michael felt so natural, and responding to Max . . . didn’t.

He pressed his forehead to hers and said, “I’m sick if you’re sick.”

She tried to muster up a smile and said, “I think it’s just a passing thing. It’s fine.”

He kissed her cheek and then got back up on his feet. “Alright. I’m gonna go do a little grocery shopping. Anything in particular you want?”

Michael. “No,” she replied. “Not really.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you later.”

She watched him leave the room, and she took a moment to think about how horribly she had treated him over the past few months. Dating him, but not really wanting to. Having sex with him, but not really wanting to. Telling him she loved him, but not really wanting to. Kissing Michael . . . and definitely really wanting to.

She rolled back over onto her side and closed her eyes. She had a dance to work on. That was what she was going to concentrate on that afternoon, and then that night, she would focus on finals. And in between dancing and finals, she wouldn’t have time to think about the guy who drove her absolutely insane, right?

Wrong.

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

Alex smiled happily as Isabel cuddled up next to him in the bed. This was the life. Just him and his girlfriend—oh, it felt good to think of her that way—enjoying a lazy Monday afternoon. No classes. No finals. Nothing to worry about. He was lucky.

“Mmm,” Isabel moaned. “This is so nice.” She pressed a soft kiss to his chest. “And relaxing.” Then she kissed the side of his jaw. “And necessary.”

“Very necessary,” he agreed. “You know what I have to do later today, though?”

“What?”

“That movie for Vidoegraphy.”

“Oh,” she groaned. “You mean the one that got screwed up when our love trapezoid went kablooey?”

“That’s the one.” He smiled. “I take comfort knowing I’m ahead of Michael, though.”

Isabel laughed. “Oh, you guys are slackers.”

“Hey . . .” Alex gestured to the two of them lying naked beneath the sheets. “I don’t mind slacking.”

“Oh, you wanna slack some more, huh?’

“I do. I wanna slack some more.”

She smiled and kissed him, and he immediately kissed her back. It all felt so natural. Never in his life had he allowed himself to believe he could have this, but now that he did . . . oh man, he thought everyone deserved to have this with someone else.

Just as Isabel was about to climb on top of him, there was a knock on the door to his apartment, interrupting the moment.

“Dammit,” Isabel groaned.

“I better get that,” he said reluctantly. “It could be my landlord.”

“Oh . . .”

He kissed her once more, then forced himself to get out of the bed and slip on a pair of sweat pants. He walked through the living room and opened the front door, surprised at the two people he saw on the other side.

“Kyle. Tess.” His immediate thought was that he was going to be murdered. Even though Kyle said everything was kosher . . . you could never be sure.

“Alex,” Kyle returned.

Tess smiled. “Isabel!”

Alex glanced back and saw that Isabel had stepped out of the room wearing only one of his long shirts.

“Oh,” she said, tugging the shirt down. Alex wasn’t sure why. Both Tess and Kyle had seen . . . everything.

“Awkward,” Tess chirped in a sing-song voice.

“No, it’s not awkward,” Alex assured them. “It’s not—unless you came to kill me, Kyle, in which case, it might be a little awkward.”

“I’m not gonna kill you,” Kyle told him. “Can we come in?”

“Sure,” Alex said. “No knives or guns or . . .”

“Alex,” Tess said calmly as she and Kyle came into the apartment. “Chill out a little. No violence taking place today. Kyle and I just have big news.”

Isabel cleared her throat and said, “Uh, Tess, you know, the last time you had big news, it was your breast implants. Not to say they don’t look good; I just don’t think you need any more.”

Tess laughed as she and Kyle sat down on the couch. “It’s not literal big news, Isabel. It’s not even about us.”

“Then who’s it about?” Alex asked, taking a seat in his favorite chair. Isabel sat down atop his lap.

“Well, three hints,” Kyle said. “Crazy, hormonal, and dramatic.”

“Oh,” Isabel and Alex said in unison, looking at each other. “Michael and Maria.”

“Exactly,” Kyle said. “We watched them bump into each other in the hallway a few hours ago and say hey. Hey.”

“Oh my god,” Isabel said, sounding shocked. “No arguing?”

“None,” Tess said.

Alex, too, was confused. “No sex remarks?”

“Nothing,” Tess said. “I’m telling you guys, it was so weird. I felt goosebumps.”

“Obviously something happened,” Kyle said.

“You think they finally slept together?” Isabel came right out and asked.

Kyle shook his head. “No. They weren’t acting weird until last night. We got our graduation outfits and were taking pictures while the car bash was going on. Next thing you know, Maria leaves. Michael leaves. Ten minutes later, Michael’s actin’ all frazzled and Maria’s at home claiming she’s sick.”

“And then the ‘hey’ thing today,” Tess added. “Something happened. My money’s on a first kiss.”

“My money’s with your money,” Kyle said.

“Wow.” Alex could barely believe it. He liked to think that all the subtle hints he’d been giving Michael had paid off, but it was more like that Michael had just done something impulsive instead. “It’s been a long time coming, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Kyle said, laughing a little. “Even back in high school . . . man, those two . . . every day, it was so obvious.”

“So Kyle and I were thinking about doing a little plotting,” Tess said, smiling and rubbing her hands together excitedly. “And scheming, you know. We figure, if Michael and Maria can’t seem to get themselves together, maybe we could get them together.”

“Ooh, a coalition,” Alex contemplated. “The Four Matchmakers. I like it.”

“I don’t,” Isabel piped up suddenly.

He gave her a questioning look. “Isabel?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think Michael and Maria belong together, too, and part of me just wants to see them give in as much as the rest of you. But the other part’s thinking about my brother. I mean . . . if Max finds out about this, he’s gonna be heartbroken.”

“Isabel,” Tess said softly. “He’s gonna be heartbroken if he doesn’t find out, too. Max and Maria? They don’t work. And Michael and Liz aren’t a match, either.”

“And that’s really obvious to the four of us,” Isabel said, “but not to the four of them. And, guys, just think about it. It’s not our place to decide. For us, it was simpler. It wasn’t quite so messy. We were able to figure our relationships out, and we did it without any interference. I don’t know, I just think . . . I think we shouldn’t do anything, because there’s no way this can end well. Somebody’s gonna end up getting hurt, and the person that ends up hurting the most is gonna be the person who deserves to hurt the least.”

Alex placed his hand on her back, proud of her for thinking about her brother. It was a perspective he’d never really thought about before: the perspective of Max Evans. And to an extent, Liz Parker, but more so Max, because it was obvious that his feelings were Maria were completely genuine.

“So,” Kyle said, “what you’re saying is that we should leave it alone and let the two most clueless lovers in America say hey to each other and try to figure it out themselves?”

“Yeah,” Isabel said, nodding. “That’s what I’m saying.”

Alex rubbed his hand up over her shoulders. He was proud of her, and as frustrating as the whole situation was, she was right.

Tess sighed heavily and slouched back on the couch. “Darn it. I was really looking forward to plotting and scheming.”

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

Maria was bending down, peering into the refrigerator when she heard Michael come out into the main room and say her name questioningly. “Maria?”

She turned her head over her shoulder to look at him. “Hey,” she said, since it was the greeting they gave each other now. She watched as he glanced from her to the kitchen table where she practically had her own mini-bar set up. Yes, she’d been drinking for awhile now all by herself.

“What’re you doing?” he asked her, sounding serious.

She turned back around to look back in the refrigerator and said, “What’s it look I’m doing? I’m getting plastered.” She reached up into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Vodka shots always hit her hardest. “Yea,” she said, shutting the cabinet and the refrigerator door.

“Maria . . .”

“You know what?” she cut in. “I’m supposed to be making up a dance right now. Actually, I’m supposed to have it made up already, but I only have the starting pose.” She smiled. “Awesome, huh?”

“What’s the pose?” he asked her.

She thought about it, but she was already halfway-hammered, and her mind was halfway blank. “I can’t remember.”

Michael sighed heavily and strode towards her. “Alright, Maria, hand over the vodka.”

“What? No,” she said, holding it out of his reach. “I’m gonna drink it.”

“You haven’t drank anything for a long time.”

“Exssssactly,” she said, slurring the word immensely. “I’m so thirsty, it’s not even funny.”

“Drink some water,” he suggested.

“You drink water. I’ll drink vodka.”

“Maria, give it to me.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Watch me.”

“Screw you,” she said, unscrewing the lid to the small bottle. “You know, you . . . you thought I was all reformed, didn’t you? Goody-two-shoes Maria.”

“Trust me, I never thought that,” he assured her.

“Good. Good, that’s . . . good, because I’m not good. Once a whore you’re nothing more, once a bitch you’ll never switch, all that crap . . . it’s true.” She brought the bottle up to her lips and locked eyes with him. “I’m still a bad girl.” She tilted the bottle back and took a sip. It was horrible. She was unused to it nowadays.

“Maria, you’re hittin’ it a little hard, don’t you think?”

“So?” She didn’t care. “I wanna drink. It’s . . . it’s temptation. You know, something you can’t resist.” She kept her eyes locked on his and leaned in closer to him, not in full control of all her half-drunk actions. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about temptation, would you?” she asked sultrily.

He stared down at her for a moment, then suddenly reached out and yanked the vodka bottle out of her hand.

“Hey!” she whined. “Give that back!”

He turned and started for the hallway, not saying anything.

“Hey!” She ran and jumped in front of him, stopping him. “Give it!” she said, reaching for her evening’s salvation. Michael kept it out of her reach, though.

“Michael, come on,” she complained. “I need that.”

“No, you don’t.”

She frowned, annoyed. “Come on, Michael, just . . . just let me have it. Give it back. Seriously.”

“No.”

“Give it back.”

“No.”

“Michael, give it back.” She lifted her knee to brush against his crotch, and that did it. He closed his eyes, and though the majority of his body tensed, he actually loosened his hold on the vodka. She used his momentary distraction to seize it back from him and mentally applaud herself for her tactic. If whining failed, physical contact worked. It was foolproof.

With her vodka in hand, she swaggered over to the kitchen table and lined up her shot glasses. “Hola, welcome to the best bar in the whole world, Maria,” she said to herself. “What can I get you? Drunk, that’s what. Get me drunkness. Yes.” She grabbed the half-empty bottle of tequila she had already started in on and sat down with her shot glasses lined up in front of her and both hands holding alcohol. “Choicessss . . . choices,” she slurred, contemplating what she wanted to do. Vodka and tequila by themselves? Or mixed with something? Or maybe some other drink? “Where’s my beer?” she said. “I need beer. I’m a little beer girl.”

Michael sighed and made his way over to the table. He stood before her and was brazen enough to say, “Alright, Maria, I know why you’re doing this. I know what this is about.”

“Really? ‘Cause that would be a first.”

He ignored that remark and said, “The kiss . . . it was just . . .”

“It was a kiss, Michael,” she said. “You kissed me.”

“Takes two.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you. You said you’re fucking sorry.”

“I am.”

Oh, piss me off more, Guerin, she thought, angrily mixing drinks in one shot glass. See if it’s possible.

“I’m sorry it happened,” he said.

She set both the vodka and tequila down, completely annoyed. “Why?”

“‘Cause you have a boyfriend and I have a girlfriend. And now you’re drinking. And you’re pissed at me.”

“I’m always pissed at you,” she informed him. She picked up the mixed drink shot glass and swirled the liquid around a bit, but she didn’t feel inclined to drink it just yet.

“Well, I don’t really know what to say then, Maria.”

“I swear to God, if you say you’re sorry one more time, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Fine, then I’m not sorry,” he decided. “It was just a stupid mistake.”

She frowned, disliking that s-word even more. “Stupid?”

“Yeah. I mean . . . we’ve been friends for eight years, Maria. And so we have one spur of the moment kiss. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just . . . a mistake. And it’s not gonna happen again.”

She glared up at him, but he didn’t seem to get the hint to stop.

“We’re still friends,” he said. “Right?”

Friends. That word . . . as much as she loved being Michael’s friend . . . she hated it.

Still glaring at him, Maria brought her shot glass to her lips and downed drinks she had mixed together. She didn’t bother to give Michael an answer.

He sighed heavily, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Pour me one.”

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

“Alright, so everyone understands chapter four? Or at least you feel better about it? Right?” Max asked the rather large group of students he was tutoring that night. A few of them nodded, so he said, “Alright, and everyone’s got the notes I made, too, so . . . if you just drill all that into your head, you should be good to go tomorrow. Okay?” He picked up the eraser and erased all of the writing he had done on the chalkboard, then picked up a piece of chalk and prepared to write more. Chalk. Who used chalk anymore? Tutors had to make do with what they were given, but he wasn’t happy about it. Every night, he came home with chalk on his clothes. He doubted Maria found that attractive.

“Alright, so if there aren’t any further questions on chapter four, we’ll move on to discussing chapter five, which was when you guys had your dissection lab, right?” No response. That was always great. “Okay, so you guys dissected sharks, didn’t you? Wow.” He raised his eyebrows in envy. He’d never gotten to dissect a shark before. “How was that?”

Still, no one said anything.

“You guys did dissect sharks, right?” Max squinted down at the notes the professor for the class had given him. It was hard to read his handwriting. “Or it that snails? What was it, sharks or snails?” He waited, but not one word escaped one student’s lips. “Did anybody go to class that day? Was anybody sober enough to remember?” These kids were like Michael and Maria, about as uninterested in science as a person possibly could be.

“It was snails.”

He turned his head once he got his reply and laid eyes on Liz. She was standing in the doorway, her backpack on her shoulders, her biology book in her hand.

“And it was really boring,” she added.

“Liz. Hey.”

“Hey,” she echoed. “I, uh . . .” She cast a glance at the students, who were all looking at her in the same awed way they used to look at Maria, and then walked toward the front of the room so she could speak one-on-one with Max.

“I hope you don’t mind me just popping in like this. It’s just that I’m trying to study for my biology final, and it’s not going so well. And I have this sneaking suspicion that you’re the best tutor around, so . . . is it okay if I join the cramming group?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” he replied, glad to have her. At least Liz would answer questions when he asked them.

“Okay, thanks. You’re the best, Max.”

He smiled. That was good to hear.

He waited until Liz had sat down before he returned to the chalkboard and started writing some notes down. “Alright, chapter five, the snail dissection unit . . . it may not be the most interesting subject matter in the world, but chances are, you’re gonna have to know it. So let’s start with some terminology.” He made three columns on the board and underlined them. “Dissection utensils, organism components, and methodology.” He cast a sideways glance at Liz. She was writing notes down, but when she caught him looking at her, she smiled. He smiled back.

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

Michael had a few shots, but not nearly enough to get him even the slightest bit tipsy. Maria did most of the drinking, and as much as he hated to sit back and watch it happen, that was exactly what he did. Maria was stubborn as hell. If she wanted to drink, she was going to drink. He couldn’t stop her.

“Woo!” she exclaimed after she downed another shot of vodka and raised her arms in the air. “I am the master . . . of dissssaster.” She laughed and gave him a look. “That’s a joke, Michael. Joke . . . un-funny person.”

For once, he wasn’t in a very humorous mood.

She leaned forward and clumsily reached for her vodka bottle, but when she tried to pour herself another shot and found it to be empty, she frowned and whined, “Hey. There’s no vodka. Where’d the vodka go? ‘s gone, Michael. It ran away.”

“No, we drank it,” he informed her. “You drank most of it.”

“Master of disaster,” she said again, setting the empty bottle down. “Let’s go get more. ‘s go, ‘s go.” She tried to push her chair back and stand up, but she was more than a little wobbly, and it wasn’t easy on her.

“Whoa, whoa there,” Michael said, quickly standing up as well, grabbing a hold of her shoulders to steady her.

“Oh, you got me,” she said, slumping against him, resting her head on his chest. “You always get me, Michael.”

“Alright, I think you need to go to bed,” he decided.

“No!” she immediately protested. “I’m not even tired.”

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tried to lead her down the hall, but she tried to jerk away from him.

“No. I wanna drink.” She staggered a bit as he pulled her along with him and said, “Whoa, too fast. Walk too fast.”

Deciding it would be easy to just carry her into her bedroom, he turned, wrapped his arm around her waist and under her butt, and hoisted her up off her feet effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him, held onto his shoulders with her hands, and rested her head atop his right shoulder, groaning.

“Sorry,” she said as he carried her down the hallway. “Sorry for drinking so much, Michael. Hey, I’m ssssorry.”

He ignored that and kicked open the door to her room with his foot. He laid her down on her bed gently and she squirmed. “Cold.”

He pulled a blanket up to her shoulders, but she just shook her head and muttered, “Uh-uh. Still cold.”

He tried to cover her up with another blanket, but she just frowned and swatted it away. “No.” She tore the other blanket off her body as well, frowning.

“Well, what do you want?”

“I’m not even . . . tired,” she said again, although her half-closed eyes were a testament against that statement. She rolled over onto her side and said it again. “I’m not tired, Michael.”

“Just try to go to sleep,” he told her, turning and starting for the door.

“Michael, wait. Don’t go,” she said, reaching out for him.

He stopped.

“Come here a minute,” she said.

“You need to go to sleep, Maria.”

“No, I can’t. Just come here.”

Hesitantly, he took a few steps toward the bed.

“Closer,” she said.

He leaned down, resting one hand on her end table.

“Closer,” she said again, reaching up to grab his shirt. He felt her tugging gently on him, trying to coax him into the bed with her, and even though he didn’t think it was a good idea, he lay down beside her, close to her.

“Don’t go,” she said, snuggling in close to him. “You have to stay.”

He had to fight to keep his hands off her.

“I’m sinking like a stone in the sea
I’m burning like a bridge for your body . . .”

“I wanna stay with you,” she whispered, her eyes falling closed. “I wanna . . . I just . . .” She kept trailing off and starting over, sounding very, very drunk. “Please, Michael, I just . . .” She trailed off one last time, her breathing steadying as sleep steadily began to overcome her, and then said five words that, had he still been standing, would have bowled him over.

“I need you inside me.”

His reactions to that ranged from pure joy to pure shock. On the one hand, hearing her say that really turned him on. Just the thought of it, of actually being with her in that way . . . it made him want her even more. But on the other hand . . . she was drunk. She probably didn’t know what she was saying.

“I’m sinking like a stone in the sea
I’m burning like a bridge for your body . . .”

Get out of the bed, he told himself, unwillingly glancing downward. Her shirt was hiked up, revealing her flat stomach and the gentle curve of her waist. His fingers itched with desire to touch that smooth skin, to put his hands on her, to feel her. He reached out with his left hand to touch her.

Temptation, he thought, placing his hand on her waist. Something you can’t resist. It was what she’d said earlier, and then she asked him if he knew anything about it. He sure as hell did.

“Mmm,” she moaned, smiling a little, but that was all he got. She was breathing evenly now, asleep. And she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. And nothing could happen, because they were seeing other people, and she was his best friend, and he didn’t want to screw things up any more than he already had with that kiss . . .

“I’m sinking like a stone in the sea . . .”

He quickly removed his hand, mentally scolding himself for even considering giving in. Temptation, he thought again. Something you have to resist.

He got out of the bed, covered her up with two blankets, and left the room before he did something he would regret.

“I’m burning like a bridge for your body . . .”










TBC . . .

-April