Part 3 - Mind Games

Nothing's been going right. I can hardly focus these days. My thoughts are attracted to Michiru like a magnet. I get this feeling deep inside—this tug—that she's going to come back to me. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. Maybe I just want it so bad that I'm willing to trick myself. Maybe it's nothing.

"Hey Airhead!" Chirps Elsa; coming up to lean next to my locker. I hate it when she calls me that. I scowl slightly.

"Yes, Hothead?" I retort back. She hates it when I call her that.

"What? Can I not make a joke?" She says, somewhat on the defensive. A pause. "Lately you've been acting as though in a trance. Care to explain?" She asks, her tone softening.

"Be a pal, will you?" I turn my head towards her nonchalantly. "Don't pry." I let show a faint smirk and close my locker. She only rolls her eyes.

"Oh! I almost forgot why I was looking for you—" She began, back to her old cheery self.

"Intruding on me, is more like it," I lightly accuse, with a sly sideways glance.

"Semantics," she shrugs, with a note of "whatever" in her voice. "Right, so I need a favour (Uh oh, something tells me I'm not going to like this.). What are you doing Friday night?" She questions, suspicion dripping from every word.

"Spending it away from you, I hope," I tell her with an impish grin.

"Ha ha," she articulates with indifference. "You know, you could almost be a comedian."

"That's not impossible," I consider, pretending to take her words seriously.

"Well maybe if you weren't so aloof—oh, what am I talking about? Stop sidetracking me!" She exclaims in good-natured exasperation. I could not help but chuckle.

"Go on," I nudge innocently, the smile still playing on my lips.

"Here's the thing, I need you to fill in for me. It turns out that I have to help my mom close shop on Friday, so I won't be able to make it to the concert—" It all flows out like a continuous river.

"Whoa, wait a minute. A concert? What kind of concert?" I ask, turning suspicious. "And with whom?" I emphasize, arching my eyebrow.

"Uh, no one. Who said there was someone else?" she averts. I give her a stern look. "Oh, alright! She's just a cousin of mine. Sweet girl, mind you," she confesses.

I let out a groan. "Not another blind date. Please, Elsa, don't you have better things to do?"

"What, you think I do this because I WANT to?! I have better things to do, thank you very much," she exclaims hot-headedly. She sighs heavily. "You see, I showed her a picture of you one time and she's been dying to meet you ever since. It's not my fault," she explains with a hint of guilt.

"Yeah well, tell her I'm busy—that I have other things to do," I resolve with a shrug.

"Please," she pleads, ignoring my previous comment. "Just this once?"

"No," is my final answer.

The next day:

"The answer is no," I tell her decidedly as I walk past her puppy dog face. Twelve times during school and three times when I looked out of my bedroom window.

The day after that:

"Elsa, what in the world are you doing?" I demand, surprised to see her with a sponge and bucket in hand; her clothes are drenched in soap suds.

"Your car's absolutely spotless and presentable." Elsa announces hopefully. "Now you can take—"

"Not going to work," I interrupt in a provocative manner. "Good try though. Oh, and I must say, nice job on the car."

And the day after that:

"Huh?" Before I know it a dozen double fudge cupcakes (my favourite kind) appear to hover before my eyes. Actually they aren't hovering. It's just Elsa.

"I knew you'd like them," she sweet-talks. "It's all yours."

"Really?" I ask, amused. I pick one up and bite delicately into it. "Mm, these are good."

She looks expectantly at me.

"I'll think about it," I tease devilishly. Then, I pick up the rest of the box to enjoy them elsewhere.

The day before the concert:

"You're impossible!" Elsa exclaims with such exasperation as she falls into the chair next to me. "What am I going to tell my cousin? It's all your fault," she accuses crossly and begins to sulk, glaring at the open field before us.

"Why not?" She cuts in after a long moment of silence.

"Remember when we first met—how you asked me if I believed in fate?" I ask her, reminiscing. She looks at me sadly.

"I thought you would have forgotten her by now."

"That's just it, Elsa. I can't!" I am exasperated. "Lately, she's been popping into my head wherever I go. I can't help myself. The thing is, I don't think I want to forget her," I tell her finally. Elsa's mouth parts as though wanting to say something, but quickly changes her mind.

"You can't always let yourself get stuck in the past," she suddenly meditates aloud. Her words strike me like a sudden gush of unexpected wind. Maybe she's right. Why should I hold on to a hope that may never be fulfilled? Maybe I'm just being silly. It was just a fleeting encounter; why should she remember me after all these years? Am I just giving up my life for a foolish dream? The world 'maybe' hover over me like an overcast sky. I tilt my head towards the sky—vibrant and strong. I close my eyes and bask in the vitality of the sun, renewing myself.

"I'll go," I say at last. She does not say anything. I open my eyes a crack and see her eyebrows knitted together in a defiant expression.

"My cousin is NOT a charity case! If you don't want to go—" she begins hotly.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute," I interrupt before she could really explode. "It was you who wanted me to take her out in the first place, and now that I agree to do so, you combust on me? Besides, wasn't it you who just said that I shouldn't always get stuck in the past? I just thought that maybe it's about time for me to give someone else a chance, that's all. Now that I want to live in the present, is that alright with you, your majesty?" I had meant it. Noticing my sincerity, she relaxes into her usual carefree manner.

"Your royal pain in the ass, is more like it," I mutter to myself.

"What was that?" She asks with a pretend innocence.

"I said, I don't know how I became friends with someone like you," I joke.

"Don't think I didn't hear you, but I'm feeling nice today, so I'll let it slide."

"How generous of you. By the way, what's your cousin's name?"

She gazes at me steadily before replying, "Michiru."

To be continued