Um, this is long awaited.
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.
"Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground"
Don't Wanna Fly
"Mariam." His tone was more serious than it had ever been. His eyebrows were furrowed together in taut determination, his jaw line set. This was one thing he'd fight her for. "Just because you got in and I didn't isn't any reason for you not to go. I'm not going to let you throw this opportunity away because of me."
"Max, the only reason I wanted to go was because of you! If you're not going, I'm not going – it's as simple as that." She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, sending his stare back tenfold.
"That's not the only reason, Mariam. You've wanted to go to an American college practically your whole life and you're not giving up on that just because of me. I won't let you!"
His bout of firm willingness to argue annoyed Mariam, and she spit out: "I'm a big girl. You can't let me not do anything."
Max groaned and brushed his hands through his messy locks. "Why can't you just let me win an argument for once?"
"Because I'm not going if you're not going and that's final," Mariam said stubbornly, jabbing him in the chest with her pointer finger.
Max groaned again and walked a small circle around his New York apartment, grumbling to himself. Mariam raised an eyebrow at the back of his head and he whipped around suddenly.
"What's this really about, Mariam?"
Mariam snorted. "I should think that was obvious."
"No, I mean, what's it really about? I know you care about me, but I can't help but think that you would normally be just fine with me attending any of the other colleges in the area I've applied to."
"We did have a plan, Max. And if you don't go through with it…well, it's really more of a two person plan. Why would I do it on my own?"
"No, Mariam. This isn't about our plan. There's got to be more to it than that. We both knew that that might not work out."
"Listen, Max-"
"No, Mariam, I think you should listen. Is this about getting one up on my mom, or – or me falling for some other stupid girl or something? Because I don't think-"
"It's not like that, Max."
"Then maybe you should tell me what it is like, because I don't think you're being entirely honest with me!"
Mariam huffed exasperatedly. "Max, you've wanted to go to this college forever. Not only do I not understand how I got in and you didn't, but I'm at a loss to explain how you think I'd feel going there with the knowledge that you can't."
They were only a few feet away at that point and Max could see a familiar fire burning in her eyes. Mariam smiled slightly and closed the wide gap between them, cupping Max's cheek in her hand. "I'm not going if you're not going. I'm not going because you're not going. I'd feel too guilty."
"Mar, you don't have to do that."
"I want to. And it's not like I have no other options. Even if we don't go to the same school, at least I won't be going to the one you've been dreaming of your entire life."
"But-"
"No buts. Just surrender, because you know you'll never win. I can go on for hours."
Max sighed, finally beaten, and leaned in for a kiss.
Slow, sarcastic applause sounded from the other side of the room.
"Fabulous! Simply fabulous! Let's run it again, but this time, say it like you really mean it and shed a tear or two."
"Michael," Mariam drawled twisting around in Max's embrace to look at the baseball player. "Don't you ever knock?"
Michael shrugged. "Judy gave me permission to bust in whenever I want when you two are here alone."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"No idea," he replied to Mariam's question in such a way that she wasn't sure if he was sarcastic or not. "But, seriously you two, why the "at least I won't be going to the one you've been dreaming of" junk? I thought the whole point was that you were both going and that it was awesome."
"I didn't get in," Max said, disappointment lingering somewhere in his tone.
"Oh? That's funny." He whipped the rejection letter out with neither Max nor Mariam knowing how he'd gotten it, and scanned it thoughtfully. "'Cause I thought Maxwell Bates was the one getting rejected."
"What?" Max ripped the letter from Michael's hand and looked for himself.
"Last time I checked, you were Max Tate, and there was nothing well about you."
Max and Mariam made dubious eye contact. Shortly thereafter all three teenagers burst into hysterical laughter. For years the line heard every time the subject arose was: "Leave it to Max to misread the letter."
A/N: That was long for something that's meant to be short, if that makes sense. Only three left after this and I can get to working on the drabble requests.
I thought that branching off of the last drabble would fit rather well for this line in the song, so that's what I did.
