Chapter 37

Mike took his hand off of hers all of a sudden, and she was brutally yanked back into reality. The reality that Mike was no longer hers. That thought made a sharp stabbing pain go right through her heart, and she cleared her throat and ripped her eyes away from his. If she looked too long, she would start to drown in their blue depths. "So," she said, tapping her pencil anxiously against her desk. "What are we putting in this project?"
And just like that, her Mikey was gone, replaced by this cold stranger. Mike leaned back in his seat and shrugged, his eyes darting over to where Maryse sat with her partner and best friend, a beautiful blond girl named Kelly. They were both glowering in Mel and Mike's direction.

Mel frowned at Mike. "I need an answer. We need to figure this out."

"I don't know," Mike said distractedly. "Figure it out." He was still looking at Maryse.

A wave of anger and irritation rose up inside of her. He was really going to pretend like he didn't give a damn about her, after what he had just said to her? After the things they had shared? "Could you take your eyes off of your little girlfriend for five seconds?" she asked, her tone pure ice. "The faster we get this done, the sooner you get to leave me. Again."

That got his attention. He swiveled around in his chair and glared at her. "Quel est votre problème?" he demanded in French. Most of their classmates weren't too good at the language, so it was the best way for them to talk without people eavesdropping. Mike was fluent in it already, and even though Mel wasn't, she understood enough to know what he was saying to her.

"Mon problème est que vous être trop occupé avec cette petite garce de m'aider à notre projet," Mel hissed. She fought the urge to lean across the desks and slap him hard. She wanted to seize his shirt and shake him so hard that his teeth rattled, and demand to know what Maryse can give him that she can't. But most of all, she just wanted him back.

Tears stung her eyes suddenly, and she quickly turned her head to the side so he couldn't see. She took deep, calming breaths, trying to regain her composure. She would not cry in front of him. She refused.

"Melly..." Mike said, his voice soft. He stretched out a hand to her, and added quietly, "Je suis désolé. Je n'ai pas meanto vous blesser."

Mel leaned away from him, knowing that if he touched her she would cave. "Finissons ce projet fait," she whispered.

An odd look flitted across Mike's face, but he nodded stiffly and leaned back in his chair once again. Mel could see Maryse glaring behind him, her brown eyes full of anger. Mel fought the strong urge to flip her off.

She and Mike worked through the outline of their project, writing down what they planned to put in the slideshow. Every time Mike mentioned a sweet moment between them or something they had shared, she had to fight the urge to cry all over again.

When she had written down the last memory that they were going to add, Mel set down her pencil and wiggled her fingers, trying to work out the cramp that had struck. She kept stretching her fingers, wincing in pain, until Mike took her small hand in his two large ones. She tensed up, only to blink when he started gently massaging her hand, trying to work the cramp out for her. Slowly she relaxed, and when she looked up at him she saw the sweetest look on his face.

"Est-ce que se sentir mieux?" he asked warmly, continuing to rub her hand.

Mel nodded a little shyly. He hadn't been this gentle with her since they broke up, and she was melting inside at his touch. "C'est merveilleux," she responded. She could see Maryse's glare intensify, and she whispered something into Kelly's ear.

Mike suddenly raised her fingers to his lips, and she froze as he softly kissed each of her fingers. A rush of warmth went through her, and she felt old feelings start to stir once again. Mel wanted to leap across the desks and kiss him with all she had.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she whispered, completely forgetting to speak French and gazing at him in anguish.

"Why am I doing what to you?" Mike asked curiously. He kissed her pinkie and then continued to rub her hand.

"Teasing me like this..." Mel told him weakly. "It's not fair to me...you left me for her...don't do this to me..." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "Please don't..."

Mike leaned over and gently wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Don't cry," he murmured. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was in earshot, and then he lowered his voice and said, "Je ne veux pas vous quitter, mon amour. Je n'avais pas le choix. C'était Maryse. Elle a menacé de vous blesser. J'ai eu pour vous protéger."

Mel frowned, confused. "Qu'est-ce? Mais..."

Before she could continue, Maryse appeared right next to Mike. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and suddenly Mike turned cold to Mel again. He dropped her hand and shifted as far away from her as he could, dropping his eyes to the floor.

A smug smirk tugged at the corners of Maryse's mouth, and her brown eyes stared directly into Mel's. "J'espére que vous deux n'obtenez pas trop confortable," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "L'un de vous pourrait finir dans la douleur à nouveau."

A chill ran down Mel's spine as she stared back into the beautiful face of her enemy. Maryse's eyes were full of anger and hatred, and there was venom in every word that she had spoken.

That had sounded more like a threat than a friendly warning.