Mitchie

I drove us back into town. I was nervous behind the wheel when I first pulled off. There was the fear in the back of my head that Mikayla would want to do more talking. I, on the other hand, couldn't imagine continuing our awkward fight. Thankfully, it must have been a mixture of the rain and her tears that wore her out because she fell into a comfortable sleep almost immediately. I blew out a long gust of air.

"If I were a smoker, I would be smoking like a train right now…" I whispered. I couldn't believe what had happened, I mean, it was too easy. It was simply TOO EASY for Mikayla to jump back into sync with me. In the past I had made up scenarios in my head where she would come back, saying how much she cared about me. But she never did. She never said she made a mistake and wanted to make right what she fucked up. Not until now.

"But, WHY?" I grunted in a low voice. Quickly, I threw a look toward Mikayla who was laying against the passenger door. Surely freakin Tommy was giving it to her like his life depended on it so I doubted it was about missing my sex. At that little revelation I made, I felt a pang in my heart. I had always thought our sex was the greatest there ever was and that she felt the same way. The way she would look up at me when I…did things. Her deep moans and that way she liked to bite her lip, hot damn! As I fantasized about bringing Mikayla to her burning point, the image of Tommy shoving himself into Mikayla took over. He was hunched over her, thrusting in a way that looked like overkill. Mikayla's face responding with agony and pleasure.

My jaw clenched at my imaginations twisted humor and tried to forget what I had just envisioned. As selfish and immature as it sounded, I absolutely hated the thought of anyone touching Mikalya but me. Call me a jealous ex, but she was still my first love. I doubted ANYONE liked the idea of their first love in the arms of another.

"Mitchie?" Mikayla's voice still covered in sleep.

"Yeah?" I asked after a cautious pause.

"Do you mind going the speed limit? I would prefer getting home without any tickets."

Glancing at the odometer I saw that I was a good 15 miles over the limit. Lifting my foot off the gas, I apologized softly.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked concerned.

It pissed me off how sweet she was being after all this time. It was like she was taking away my right to treat her the way she has treated me by being overly nice and making me look like the jerk. It wasn't fair.

"Nothing," I said gruffly.

"Which in Mitchie World means 'everything'," she said shifting her body toward me.

"Mikayla don't-"

"Okay, okay," she tried beating me to the punch. "You don't want to talk about it."

"Exactly," I said, happy that she got my point without me having to explain it.

"But!," she began, laughing at the way my shoulders slumped when I saw that she wasn't going to give in easy, "You can't tell me that you didn't feel something back there. I seen it in your eyes."

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Of course! Mikayla, you were my first…anything! I'm obviously going to still care about you even if I don't want to."

"You've dated before we were together. Besides, we were doing some intense holding and touching." she pointed out.

"Yeah, they were little flings. Nothing as serious as us. And because I hugged you doesn't mean I want to jump your bones. I just didn't want you to freeze to death!"

"Why are you fighting this so hard?" She asked incredulously as if I had done something unbelievable.

"Why are you fighting FOR it so hard?" I spit back. "And don't you dare say its because you love me." I couldn't believe we had began fighting so quickly.

"I don't know why, Mitchie. I just know I have to!"

My head snapped toward her as we met each others eyes. I stared at her hard and she didn't back down from my gaze. "What does that even mean?" I asked harshly.

Mikayla grunted in aggravation, "I know it sounds so ridiculous but I have this feeling inside me that's making me want to fight to keep you near me. If not…you'll...you'll disappear."

"That's not up to you. If I don't want to be bothered with you, Mik, there isn't much you can do?" It came out more as a question than the statement I intended.

"That sucks. That's really fuckin low. I would always stand by you, no matter what crazy situation we got into. If I were in your position, even though I was hurting, you know I would let you back into my life. It's wrong of you to keep a grudge against me after I've told you how sorry I am," she argued fiercely.

"No!" I shouted, "what's wrong is you thinking you can come in and out of my life directing me whichever way you freakin feel like. I'm my own person now and I swear I'm not giving any of me to anyone until I can trust them."

"Oh and gang bang Bree can be trusted now?"

"Don't talk shit about her."

"Does she even care about you?"

"I care about her and she cares about me. Not to mention, I'm happy."

"Oh really?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, really. What happened with Tommy? He's your knight in shining armor, isn't he? Why don't you just spend your time fucking him over instead?"

"He's cute but way too protective," her tone had changed slightly. I wasn't sure if she was trying to mock me or something, "He's always over my shoulder like some big bodyguard. I don't need him stalking me around."

"You're really something…"

"With you its so much more lively. Loose. I smile more and feel better."

"I don't know what to tell you. You sound like you're in serious need of a friend." I pulled up to my house and cut the engine, preparing to get out so Mikayla could drive herself home.

"I agree," she nodded, "Mitchie, would you be my friend?" She was leaning casually to one side as if it were completely acceptable to ask me to be friends out of the blue. The worst part was that I was almost tempted to allow her smile to suck me in.

I wasn't sure what to say so I didn't say anything at all. I opened my door and stepped out, heading toward my house. Behind me I heard her yell smugly, "I'll take that as a yes!"

I made it into my house to find Casey, Miley, their dad, my mom, and a suited gentlemen on my couch sipping iced teas. It looked like the beginning of a comedy sitcom as I swept open the front door and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of company. I even blinked a few times, not saying anything and none of them saying anything.

"Something happen?" I asked, breaking the ice.

"Honey," my mom stood up, "this is Ken Evans. He's a booking agent." She made this gesture with her hands toward him which he, in turn, took as his introduction.

"Hey there, Mitchie." He extended his hand out to me. Ken was a man of at least thirty-five, wore Gucci glasses, graying but mostly dark brown hair, and around 200 lbs. He had very large hands but they were strangely warm and comforting.

"Hi," I replied politely.

"I've heard a lot about you," he smiled, releasing my hand.

" here is a good friend of mine," Miley's dad cut in. He stood from his seat on the coach and stood beside Ken, "I've been doing a lot of talking-"

"AHHK-hum!" Casey cleared his voice louded behind his father, clearly annoyed that he was leaving him out of the story.

"WE," Mr. Stewart corrected, "have been doing a lot of talkin' about you and Casey's band to Ken and a few agents from other recording labels. It looks like Fueled By Ramen was really taken with you kids. He thinks you have a real shot at somethin'."

"As a booking agent, my job is to basically be the middle man between the artists and their fans. Right now it sounds like most of our artists fans are searching for something new. They defidently don't want anything too different from what they are used to which is drum/guitar solos, rockin vocals, head banging but nothing too heavy. However, they just want a new face. A breathe of fresh air, if you will, and I think you and the band have that for sure. Now, don't think we're ganging up on you hear. It's rarely I ever do a house visit, but Casey said he and the other guys are already signed on. We're just waiting the approval of the…lead singer."

"Wow," I said, taking in the whole scene. Pressure much?

"It's alright to be nervous. Hey, I would be concerned if you weren't. Just hear me out. You would start with a few gigs in a couple local places. A nightclub or two. Nothing too gruesome. When the local publicity is on the rise, we move you to a higher profile place like a medium sized concert where you would basically open for the opening band. Opening for the opening band sounds like beating a dead horse, but believe me, you will be the first thing the audience hears which is important. Build up a fan base with a website and merchandise to a point where you're now the opening band for the main band. Before long, boom! YOU guys are the main band having artists open for you and audiences coming from all around to hear you play."

"And guess who we would start by opening for? Gym Class Heroes and Yellowcard!" Casey added.

"That all sounds really amazing," I looked around, "but school and my home life is what I really care about right now. I'm not saying no. I…I need more time to think about it." Tears began to well up in my eyes as embarrassment washed over me. I saw the disappointed faces all around and it made me feel worse. Miley must have sensed my soon to be break down because she finally spoke.

"Yeah, I totally agree with taking another couple of weeks to straighten everything out and make a decision. What do you think, daddy?" She used her sweetest voice.

"Uh, yeah. I s'pose you're right, Miles. Mitchie, you go ahead and take another couple of weeks to think everything through. Right, Ken?" He spoke with a bit of authority which made me believe that Ken once worked for Mr. Stewart and had never gotten out of the role of agree with whatever he said.

"Yes, that sounds fair. Here, this is my card. I hope to hear from you soon," he fished the card out of his suit pocket.

My mom shook hands with Ken and patted on the back as she lead them toward the door. They were whispering back and forth but I couldn't understand what was being said.

"I know that look," Miley commented and pulled me up the stairs to my room leaving a perplexed Casey downstairs.

Once I closed the door to my room, I hugged Miley tightly. More tighter than I probably ever had. Things were getting crazy and I wasn't sure if I could keep up.

"What's wrong, girl?"

"Thig aah nut woo kin ouu," I huffed into her shoulder.

"Beg pardon?" she said with her accent.

I raised my head from her shoulder, wiping away the tears that had snuck out. "Things are not working out," I said carefully.

"This isn't just about signing a contract to be in the band, is it?"

"Mikayla and I hung out for lunch-"

"What?"

"Hang on," I sniffled, "let me finish. So we had lunch and then we fought and then kind of made up. It was weird. Then we fought again. And she wants to be friends all of a sudden and I don't think I want that."

"Mikayla is tryin to make you as miserable as she is. Don't let her do that. She doesn't deserve you. At least not now after everythin. Come on, Mitch, this is about YOU. What do YOU want? Goin on tour and buildin your dream of becoming an artist has nothin to do with Mikayla. Don't make it a bigger thing than it is."

"You're right," I sighed.

"So the question is…do you want this? Do you want to be a famous singer and eventually perform on the same stage as that stone cold fox, Haley, from Paramore?"

"Yes," I squeaked.

"What? I don't think I heard you."

"Yes, yes. . Yes!"

"Alright, calm down. They're gonna think we're doin things up here," she laughed as I punched her shoulder.

As if on cue, Casey knocked at the door. His voice coming from the other side. "You okay in there Mitch? You're not having a nervous break down, are ya? Cuz I would feel really bad about that…"

I looked at Miley who gave me a wink. I walked over to the door, opened it, and said, "So what are we calling our band?"