You guys are OFFICIALLY the best. I haven't quite finished counting all the faves and story alerts etc. Yet but when I get there....when I get there I'll be around 40. Lol! I wuv you in a very non-romantic way.
PEACE!!!
;)
Chapter 3
'Mitchie....I-...you can talk to me.' He said.
I could tell he didn't exactly have experience in dealing with crying girls, and I also registered that today was our second meeting. He was getting in way too deep, deeper than some of my closest friends had ever dared to go.
Treading dangerous waters.
'You don't want to go there, Shane.' I mumbled. 'I come with a lot of emotional baggage. Hell, I'm like the warehouse of Heathrow airport.' I smiled weakly at my own bad joke.
'Don't you think that's for me to decide?' He smiled back, handing me a clean tissue. I dabbed delicately at my cheeks as he motioned to me to sit down on the now hopefully notebook free bed.
'I...um....when I was 6, my mom gave birth to a little boy. His name was Daniel...he was the cutest thing.' The corners of my mouth upturned waveringly as I recalled his baby blue eyes, damp skin and hair like cotton wool surrounding his head. 'I...God, I loved him so much, I'd watch him every day and be there for everything my mom did for him...he was so beautiful.' Fresh tears leaked out of my eyes, and suddenly I was dimly aware of the fact that Shane's hand was resting on the small of my back. 'But when he was eight...he got sick. Leukaemia, the doctors said. He was so tiny and fragile...he wouldn't have lasted the year. Two months, they gave him. He lasted three...he gave us hope for a while.' My voice was dwindling away. 'We buried him December 2007.' My voice cracked.
'Oh Mitch...' Mitch. A nickname. I had a nickname from Shane. 'I'm so sorry...' He said, hugging me warmly. I could smell that cologne again, and I noticed that this hug was longer, more intense.
'That's why I got into babysitting. Because I used to take care of him so much...' I started. 'And then Frankie's so sweet...he would be a couple of years younger than Daniel if Daniel were still alive.' I sobbed.
A dam of emotion burst open. I hoped it wasn't flooding Shane.
It was true. Writing was my relief therapy....well, my newest form. I hoped to dear God that neither Shane, nor Frankie or even anybody from the Gray family found out about the old one. The one that ensured I'd probably never get famous.
My track record wasn't the cleanest.
'Well...you know what I find helps me when I'm down?' He asked, his arm still around my waist.
Sniffle-'what?'-sniffle.
'...making cookies, then icing them with random stuff.'
'I do like cookies.' I said, a grin spreading slowly across my face.
'Then why are we sitting here when we could be eating cookies?' He yelped, springing up and grabbing my hand.
I didn't know what was more disturbing-the fact that the first thing I saw when I walked into the kitchen was a pair of fluffy oven mitts with puppet fingers, or the fact that instead of belonging to Frankie like I had assumed, they were Shane's.
And as we iced the cookies, and then each other's faces, I began to relax into this. Shane had revealed that he had trusted me because I seemed 'real', though I wasn't sure how real he'd consider me if he ever found out what I had participated in not too long ago. And our small talk became big talk, swapping random, unnecessary facts.
'So what was your first kiss like? Not the whole 'I got pecked in the sandbox in kindergarten' thing, the real deal, like 'oh my God, he totally tastes like Twinkies and Coke.' Shane grinned, and I raised my eyebrows.
'I do not feel at liberty to discuss that information with you, Mr Gray. Especially since it was nachos and Coke, not Twinkies.'
'Oh, sick!' Shane burst into raucous peals of laughter before I picked a glob of icing up in my hand and aimed it at his face.
Remember my amazing precision from the Gumball incident?
He stopped straight away, standing there with a deadpan expression before pointing his tongue out and licking it up. 'That's not half bad, Torres. That's not bad at all.'
'Really? You want some more?'
I went in for the kill. Pulling his jeans out as far as I could get them (not very far) I picked up the spoon from the bowl of icing and tipped it down his pants.
'Oh my God.' He said, staring at the soggy bulge at the bottom. I cracked up, because...well, it looked enticing to say the least. 'Ew, Mitch! You're lucky I'm too much of a gentleman to-'
'You mean too chicken?'
'No. Don't even play that card on me.' He said, advancing towards me.
I clucked quietly, then crescendoed with amazing speed as he ran after me, trailing pink icing through the house.
Unfortunately for me, he caught me at the bottom of the stairs, and dogpiled me.
'What happened to too much of a gentleman?' I smirked, as he sat astride my stomach. 'Jesus, you're heavy.'
'Well...desperate times, desperate measures.' He smiled sweetly, and leaned in.
Oh God, no. Please, no. Oh shit, don't let him kiss me, don't let him kiss me.
It's not that I wasn't into him. I totally was. But dating him would mean I had to share everything and I mean everything with him. Including the big secret.
A kiss sealed the deal. What kind of ass would just kiss a girl and then run off?
Not Shane. I knew that for a fact.
'Shane.' A small voice interrupted Shane's advance, and we turned.
Thank God for Frankie Gray.
I pushed Shane off of me, wiping the icing off my clothes as he straightened up, blushing.
'Hey, Frank.'
'...you said you'd play with me.' Frankie stated.
'...in a minute, Frank. Mitchie and I have some stuff to talk about.' Shane looked at me. It wasn't a 'let's pick up from where we left off' kind of look. It was more a 'what the fuck was that?' look.
Let me state again, we'd known each other for a grand equivalent of....let's see....carry the one....minus those indices....oh yeah, 16 hours.
'No, now! You already talked to her! She's my babysitter!' Frankie yelled.
'Franklin, just give us some space!' Shane fumed.
'I hate you!' He screamed, running upstairs.
Shane stood there, shell-shocked. I had heard in every radio interview possible how close-knit the Grays were, and I knew it wasn't a phrase commonly tossed around.
'Shit!' Shane yelled, kicking the wall.
It was also common knowledge that Shane had had anger management problems.
Not that I was worried about that. Kick the wall all you want, Shane, but touch me and I'll go WWE Smackdown on your ass.
'...I'll go talk to him.'
'No, it's-' He protested.
'To be honest...I think you're the last person he wants to see right now.' I said gently.
He nodded.
I took a deep breath, walking up the stairs.
Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait
Where were you, where were you
Just a little late
You found me, you found me
-You Found Me, the Fray
