It had become a habit.
For a large part of the summer, Rachel had been perched at her window at exactly seven, waiting for Mike to come rolling down the street in a pair of roller skates.
It was accidental the first two times.
She was gloomy on the first morning (Finn had canceled yet another one of their dates the previous night), and was looking at the sun for some kind of injection of blinding happiness. As her eyes wandered down, she caught sight of a familiar mess of brunette hair going by. She didn't pay much mind to it, and was in no mood to socialize so she wordlessly watched him until he turned the corner.
The second morning a few days later, she had just hopped out of the shower and had every intention of whistling away with the birds while she got herself dressed; until her eyes fell on him again. Completely carefree, with his arms spread out and his body pointed forward. She chuckled to herself, too amused by the sight of a seventeen year old boy imitating an airplane to say hi.
A week later, she simply wanted to see him again. Seeing him skate down her street had somehow become a memorable highlight of her mornings, and she was longing to feel that twinge of bliss again. She had positioned herself at her window at exactly six thirty and waited out the thirty minutes impatiently, and just as she was about to leave her spot and busy herself with her exercising, he glided down the street with a water bottle in hand.
She continued this for about a two more weeks, perfectly content with smiling down at him as he made his way through.
In the middle of her second month of summer vacation, she decided she wanted a change of view. And even though it was extremely pleasurable and entertaining staring at his hair getting tussled around by the wind and taking note of how his muscles seemed to glisten with sweat whenever he wasn't under the shade of one of the trees lining the block (both offering her mind far too much to work with whenever Finn just didn't manage to do to her what she needed), she longed for more.
So on a Wednesday, Rachel stepped out of her front door dawned with knee pads, elbow pads and a helmet with a personalized golden star printed onto the side. All of this in pink, of course. The rest of her outfit, a tight fitting t-shirt and shorts, was black. Getting a quick glance at her watch, she made a quick trip to the garage to get out the bicycle she hadn't touched in a good two years. As she dusted off the seat and familiarized herself with the handles again, and a strong sense of nostalgia mixed in with anticipation hit her.
Another glance at her watch ("6:47" it read) and she was off. She rode a few times around the block to pass the time and get her a bit breathless and her hair a little more wind-kissed, as a way of making her story believable. Just as seven o'clock came on by, she was peddling up her street when she heard his roller skates' wheels against the tar.
"Rachel?"
She fondled with the break on her bike as she continued to peddle and as she moved to turn, and her palm pressed down firmly on the break, she soon felt her bike tilting dangerously and before she knew it, she was spread out on the center of the quiet road, one of her legs trapped under her silver bike with her chin and knees kissing the ground.
Groaning, she remembered why she stopped using the damn thing in the first place.
Mike was at her side before she sound even begin to think about pushing herself up, and hooked his arms around hers. With a grunt and a swift motion, she was back on her feet as he rolled backwards for a few seconds.
"You okay?" He asked, genuinely worried.
She simply nodded her head as her gaze lingered on the road before she plucked up the courage to look her savior of sorts in the eye. Her lips parted as she gasped at the sight before her, noting his swollen lips (he purses his lips together and occasionally nips at them when trying out a new trick) and a few droplets of sweat running down the sides of his face. And his eyes, oh god lord, his stupefying and magnificently brown eyes. Her knees buckled and she stumbled forward, causing his grip falter for a moment. All concentration and balance was lost, leaving them both as a heap of sweaty skin and tight clothing in the middle of the road.
And then he laughed. She was pretty certain that was her new favorite song.
"I'll take that," he propped himself onto his elbows and kept his eyes on her. "As a no."
Sheepishly smiling up at him, she pushed herself into a kneeling position next to his torso. She thought getting off of him was going to calm her hormones down, but his shirt has hitched up and she had the most tantalizing view of his toned abs and she wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
A weak "Mhm," was all the response she coulf muster.
Oblivious to the show he was giving her, Mike averted his gaze and took a look at her bicycle and then to the roller skates on his feet, a smile of amusement taking over his lips for a fleeting second.
"This sure isn't something that would have happened at Asian Camp,"
"Hm?"
He's reduced her to nothing but hums.
He feels a little proud of the fact, but suddenly wants to know what he did to get her in such a state. She's still got her eyes on the wrong places, and the waistband of his capri pants is taunting her, daring her to touch or think about whatever's below it.
"Everyone's always so busy on their cell phones, there's never really any time for actual camping or outdoorsy activities anymore. I can't say I miss it, to be honest."
"Uhuh."
He laughs again as he gets back on his wheels, wobbling for a moment before regaining his balance and offering her his hand to hold. Once she was hoisted up, he released her hands and went to pick up her bicycle. She quite enjoyed her view of...everything.
Sooner than she would have liked, her bicycle was in her hands again and he was gearing himself up for leaving, taking a few strides around her as she adjusted her helmet and patted her protective pads for a job well done.
"I guess I'll see you around?"
She looked up at him as she considered getting onto her bike again, but realizing he wouldn't be there to offer her such a pleasant crash landing next time.
"Yes."
Giving her a nod, he smiled and took a few small and slow steps away from her, allowing himself to cruise for a few seconds before alternating between which foot to put forward.
He was stalling.
The moment her brain registered the fact, she didn't know what to do with herself. But she had to say something, anything, to get him to stay just a little bit longer. To make sure all her preparations didn't go to waste (not that getting to ogle at him for a good five minutes was a waste of time, but still).
"Michael?"
"Yeah?" He turned on his heel, clasping his hands behind his back as he continued to skate backwards.
What to say, what to do? Think Rachel, think Rachel, think.
"Why aren't you at Asian Camp?"
...Stupid.
He stopped his movements as his eyes fell to the road for a second before he looked up at her and shrugged his shoulders in attempted indifference, even though his eyes and entire expression told a more pained story.
"My mother wasn't the one who paid for the whole camp thing, so." I'm stuck in Lima, as some kind of metaphor my used-to-be dad is trying to drill into my head, went unsaid.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Well," she began after a short lived moment of awkward silence. "I should be getting back—"
"I'll come over tomorrow," he suddenly decided.
She blinked and looked away from the hand that was pressing down on the brake again.
"To help with your riding," He added once he realized he had to offer some form of clarification.
Her 'great' was a bit too enthusiastic, but he was smiling again so she didn't really mind that much. She waved at him as he turned around and skated his way down the street, giving her a glance over his shoulder before he sped down the rest of the block and turned the corner.
Lugging her bicycle back to the garage, she found herself humming a silly tune.
