Chapter Fifteen - Up In Arms
The rain is here and you my dear are still my friend
It's true the two of us are back as one again
I was the one who left you
Always coming back I cannot forget you, girl
Now I am up in arms again.
Together now, I don't know how this love could end
My lonely heart, it falls apart for you to mend
"Up In Arms," Foo Fighters
[Syd's POV]
"Michael, we can't do this," I say, laughing giddily as he pulls me by the hand. The warm sand feels amazing under my bare feet -- it's been so long since I've been to the beach. I look over my shoulder nervously. Anyone could have followed us here...
"Why can't we?" He asks, grinning while he spins me around into his arms.
"What if someone sees us?" I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Who cares?" He responds with a kiss as he brings me to the ground. I care! They could kill us if they see us together. They could kill you...
I smile against his lips as he strokes my arm. My mind is screaming no while my body is screaming yes. Screw the consequences. If I don't live for today I'm going to regret it. I pull his face off mine and stare deeply into his eyes.
"I love you," I say finally, "I love you so much."
He laughs and places a hand on my face, caressing it lightly.
"I love you, too."
I open my eyes suddenly and am greeted by Michael's smiling face, but we're no longer on the sunny beaches of Southern California, and are instead back in Stuckeyville, in bed. I'm in bed with Michael Vaughn. God, that phrase will never get old.
You know your life is twisted when your dreams resemble reality and reality resembles a dream. If that makes sense. Which it probably doesn't.
"You talk in your sleep," he says playfully, his hand still resting on my face.
"Oh, really?" I play along. "What did I say?"
"I think it was along the lines of 'Don't stop Michael! Keep going, Michael! More! More!'" He exclaims, flailing about wildly. I laugh and push him back into reality.
"Shut up," I joke, still grinning. I rub my forehead before resting my head back on top of my hand.
"But really, what were you dreaming about?" He asks, seriously.
"You. It's always you," I say, smiling.
"Ooh, Sydney Bristow, the charmer." He responds, pulling me close. "She tells you exactly what you want to hear."
How did I let myself get so lovestruck? I'm letting my life turn into a cheesy romantic comedy!
Who am I kidding...I love romantic comedies.
Especially when they involve me, Michael, and a bed.
Yes, my hormonal streak may have gone into hiding last night with all that commotion, but it's back in full force. Michael doesn't know what he's in for.
We sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, and I find myself lost in his presence. But then again, what's new? Now that I know what it's like to be here with him -- like this -- I can't even imagine how I lived for so long without feeling his touch, his lips on mine, his hair...
Even the man's hair is hot. You don't understand what an amazing feat that is. The length is perfect. The color is perfect. The texture is perfect. The way it sticks up in every direction is perfect. Any normal guy would balance out all the perfection his hair holds with imperfections of character, morals, standards, looks...But it's not like that with Michael.
He really should be declared the eighth wonder of the world.
Yup, Michael Vaughn, right up there beside the Pyramids of Egypt and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
And I should really be declared a mentally insane. You know you have problems when you scare even yourself.
"I made a decision." He says adamantly, bringing me out of my crazy-ass thoughts.
"And what might that be?" I ask, amused.
"We are going to spend the day together, just you and me, doing stuff that we'd never get the chance to do otherwise."
"What do you have in mind?" My interest has officially been piqued. Things I never get the chance to do otherwise, huh? He sits up and leans his back on the headboard, running his hand through his hair briskly. I smile at his utter cuteness and follow suit.
"That's for us to figure out." He responds.
"What is this? Mr. I've Always Got A Plan doesn't have everything worked out in advance?" I tease, tickling him playfully. He grabs my hands with a grin.
"I'm trying to be spontaneous here. Can you do spontaneous, Bristow?"
"Oh, I can do spontaneous," I say, grinning devillishly, "I am the queen of spontenaity." I say seductively as I place my legs on either side of his thighs and pin him against the headboard with my arms.
I'm going for the smoldering temptress look, but I think it's coming off as more of a giddy sex-driven teenager who must be on something because it's not humanly possible to be this excited first thing in the morning.
"Really?" He asks, smiling as he places his hands on my waist. Those hands are deadly weapons, literally and figuratively. How cheesy is that?! But it's so true...If you only knew what he could do with those hands...
I nod my head slowly as I move my head within millimeters of his ear.
"I--" I can't even get the first word out before I start breaking out into a fit of hysterics. Way to go, Syd. Why can't you be sexy for just one second, huh?!
He's laughing too now, atleast that's what I think. I've basically turned into a lifeless pile of flesh on his lap, because when I laugh, I lose absolutely all control of my muscles.
"Real smooth, Syd, real smooth," he says, patting me on the back. I raise my arms in the air to balance myself and regain composure, then take a deep breath.
"Thank you," I say before breaking out into another fit of laughter.
"What's up with you today?" Michael asks, amused yet slightly confused.
"I have absolutely no clue," I say, shaking my head. "But don't worry, I'm done, I'm done. Spontenaity, you were talking about spontenaity."
"Well, yes," he replies, pulling the covers off himself. "I was thinking we could do something fun by ourselves. Away from the rest of the gang. I mean, I love them, but we rarely get to spend some time alone, just you and me."
Whoa, am I laughing again?
"What's so funny this time?!"
"Nothing, nothing," I say, barely able to contain myself.
"That doesn't look like nothing," he says motioning towards me with a smile. "Am I here simply for your amusement? I try to be a good boyfriend and I get laughed at."
"No! It's just--" Oh Hell, what's the use? There's no way I could possibly put anything to words right now, so why should I even try?
Boyfriend? Did he say boyfriend? He definitely said boyfriend. That's the first time he's said boyfriend. This must be like 1985 because there's no way a thirty year old in her right mind would be thinking these things.
Oh that explains it, I'm not in my right mind.
I spring up and practically jump into Michael's arms. I kiss him, then pull away with the smile still fresh on my face.
"That sounds perfect."
"Syd, you never cease to amaze me," he jokes as he shakes his head.
"In a good way or bad way?" I ask. What has come over me? I have absolutely no clue. I guess you could say I have a crapload of pent up energy from last night that needs to be released. No, definitely can't blame last night on this because, if anything, it would have been a energy releaser. Is releaser a word? Probably not. But yes, I was using energy last night, not keeping it pent up.
Good God.
I need to stop, really. I can't keep letting my brain turn into Candyland on me! I have to remain atleast somewhat sane!
How bout Clue? Nah, Clue's too deadly. Guess who? I relate on too much of a personal level.
Twister! I'll let it turn to Twister. Not as sugary sweet and kiddy as Candyland, but definitely more fun and physical. When you want to get to know a guy, and I mean really get to know a guy, play twister with him.
Where's Barnett when you really need her?
~~~
[Carol's POV]
"I don't know what you're talking about Molls. You're absolutely crazy." I say incredulously as we walk into the coffee shop.
Of course shes one hundred percent right but there's no way I'm going to admit it.
"You were all over him last night!" She exclaims as we step into line.
"No I was not, and I'm insulted that you would say such a thing about me." I retort.
"Well, it's true," she mutters under her breath.
So what if I was flirting with Will a little bit? He's a cute guy. He's smart and funny and unlike a certain bowling alley lawyer I know, has no life shattering secrets that he's been hiding from me for the past three years. Or, uhh...few days.
I shake my head sadly and order my regular coffee and muffin. I don't understand why Molly is on my case about this. It's not like there's a crime in trying to get to know a guy better and actually hitting it off.
"So what if I was, Molls? Tell me where the problem in that lies." I say, sitting down at our usual table by the window.
"Oh well, nothing." Molly says, shaking her head. "Except for the fact that he's from LA and if you form any sort of attatchment to him you're going to be heartbroken when he leaves. Not to mention he's also Sydney's best friend, practically, and I'm sure she wouldn't want you just jumping all over him the second he got here. Oh and then there's the fact that he's been through Hell and back and probably wouldn't want to deal with someone who's just using him to make someone else jealous--"
"What?!" I exclaim in shock. Molly has a tendency to run her mouth, but this time she's gone way too far. "Who say's I'm just using him? I do not use men, Molly."
"I never said you did--" She says, failing miserably at covering her slip up.
"Oh yes you most definitely did," I say, nodding my head vigorously. There's no way I'm letting her get by with this.
"Okay, fine, maybe I did, but I was just trying to get at a point. The only reason why you've latched on to Will in the past few days is because you feel like Ed has violated your trust. He didn't just keep that from you, Carol, he kept it from all of us, too. He had no other choice, and that's no reason to flip out on him and jump into bed with the first cute guy you see."
"First of all, I haven't jumped into bed with him," I say defensively. Atleast not yet. "Second of all, I'm not doing this to make Ed jealous. Opposed to popular belief, my life does not revolve around Edward J. Stevens."
Or maybe it does, but that doesn't matter. All I know is that I may not consider myself worthy of Ed, but now I definitely know Ed's not worthy of me. I don't want to be with a man that is able to lie to his friends for years, years, and just act like everything is hunky dory. And yes, hunky dory is still a commonly used phrase.
If you had the chance to put all the drama of your regular life behind, and be with this tall, handsome, blonde haired, blue eyed, California beach boy reporter, wouldn't you do it?!
"Speak of the devil," Molly says, looking out the window. There he is. Will, I mean. There he is walking up to this store. He's a good guy, he really is...
"He's a good guy," whoa, freaky, "so just don't hurt him, okay, Carol?"
"Molly, you're acting like I'm King Kong or something. I'm not going to hurt him, okay?" I say laughing. "And why are you so possessive of Will all of a sudden?"
"Because I know what's best for you..." She says, trailing off as Will walks into the restaurant and spots us. I smile and wave to him. Like Hell you know what's best for me.
"Hey Carol, hey Molly," Will calls out, walking up to us. "I can't get enough of this town, you two are so lucky to actually get to live in it."
You would think, wouldn't you?
"I'm glad you like it here," Molly says, smiling. "You know what? I actually have to head out. I've got a meeting back at school with some teachers about pay raises. I'll see you guys a little later though."
"Oh yeah, sure. See ya later, Molly," Will says, standing up as Molly stands up. See? He's even a gentleman. A gentleman for Godssake!
Molly leaves and Will sits back down, in her seat this time.
"Carol, I was actually hoping I could talk to you--" he says, but my attention is immediately diverted to the door, where Ed just walked in, bumping into Molly in the process. She's saying something to him, pointing to the table...Oh God, he's looking...
I pretend to be deep in conversation with Will and plaster the fakest smile ever in the creation of fake smiles on my face. Might as well throw a laugh in there too.
"Carol? Are you listening to me?" Will asks, shaking his head confused.
"Yeah, yeah!" I say, laughing. I try to catch a glimpse of Ed, but he's moved.
"Then what did I say?" He asks. Sh-t.
"I'm sorry, I was zoning out..." I say, embarassed.
"Yeah, I thought so. I was saying that I'm not so sure I want to really start a relationship of any sort while I'm here in Stuckeyville...I just want to lay low and relax, you know? But you're such an awesome person and I'd really love to be friends with you. And I know that sounds so incredibly cliche and corny, but it's true. I've had a rough go for the past year or so, and it's nice to actually have a friend who's pure bred, one hundred percent normal."
He did not just give me the 'Let's just be friends' line. I invented that line. He so did not just deliver that line to its inventor. I'm speechless. And kind of heartbroken. But I can't break into all out sobs seeing that I've known this guy for like two days and haven't even started going out with him. Yeah, that would be uber-creepy. I could play it cool, and act like I never really was coming on to him...
Nope. Not possible. I have that "How could you do this to me?!" crossed with "I'm not good enough for anyone, am I?" look all over my face and he's starting to feel guilty, I can tell.
This isn't his fault, Carol, don't make him feel like he's done something wrong because he's done nothing wrong. Tell him you're cool with it because that's all you can really do right now.
Suck it up and move on.
"I'm sorry, Carol, I really am," he says, reaching a hand out towards me. Wow, I must seem really desperate. I smile sadly (what? I'm not allowed to be sad now?) as he places it on my hand. I place mine on top of his and look him in the eye.
"No, I'm sorry," I say apologetically, "I didn't mean to come on so strong. But yeah, I would absolutely love to be your friend, Will Tippin. Maybe you could even give me some tips for breaking into the world of journalism."
I'm not going to lie, this is really disappointing. I thought I atleast had a shred of attractiveness left, but apparently that left with Ed's adoration. A part of me was really going after him just to see how Ed would react, I admit it. I know it's screwy, but the relationship we have is dysfunctional, to say the least. I'm angry at him, that's obvious. I know how to really piss him off, too: come on to a guy that's not him. Burns him up inside every time. To take the attention away from him and his little bowling alley law firm for just one moment.
"Yeah, for sure, for sure." Will responds smiling. Will's cute. Will's beyond cute. I wish I could just start a relationship with him free of lies and histories and weird feelings of inadequacy and him putting me up on this gigantic pedestal. I have a right to be angry at Ed after this whole ordeal. I adore Sydney and Michael and I love the fact that they can enjoy a semi-normal life here with us, but...How could Ed lie to me this whole time?
Yeah, it's in the past and really bares no impact on his life here in Stuckeyville, but if he really wanted to be with me so badly, why didn't he try telling the truth for once?
See? Our dysfunctional relationship is not my fault. It's all his. He created this unattainable image of me in his mind. He had to go and be perfect in every possible way leaving it virtually impossible for me to ever match up in any way. And most importantly, He lied to me.
"I'm so glad you're cool with this, Carol," Will says happily as he stands up. "I knew you'd understand."
I smile and nod my head. He's a sweet guy, but it's probably best that he ended this before it started. Relationships that involve me and other men are bound for disaster. If only I were a lesbian, maybe I wouldn't have these problems...
But I'm pretty sure comittment is an issue for homosexuals and heterosexuals alike.
And by committment, I mean psycological disorders that make you refuse to be with the perfect man who is madly in love with you, even when you have feelings for him, too.
"Well, I have to get going. There's a ton of stuff I have to figure out for work and at my place--" My, my, look who it is. "Oh hey, Ed! I was just saying I was about to head out of here."
"Hey, Ed! What's up?" Whoa, way too cheery and way too obvious. I might as well scream: Go to Hell, Ed Stevens, man of my dreams!
"Carol," he says with a laugh as he nods toward me, "are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine." If perfectly fine means psycopathic, sure! I'm perfectly fine! "I'll see ya later, Will!"
"See ya, Carol. See ya, Ed -- Oh, and we'll definitely have to play basketball sometime. " He says, pointing to Ed.
"Saturdays, ten AM, at the one and only Stuckeyville Park." He says, sticking a bagel in his mouth. "We'll have a Stuckeyville versus LA game -- The ultimate west coast/east coast battle. Or midwest, whatever you consider Ohio."
Stuckeyville vs. LA? You so know LA would win. Okay, let's see: Will and Michael, Ed and Mike. No contest. There's no denying Ed's good looks, I'm just saying...Stuckeyville had the cute, dopey thing doing for them. LA, on the other hand, has the "You're so frighteningly good looking, do me right here, right now," thing along with the "I now pronounce you man and wife" thing going for them.
I might go and watch. It would be fun to see Ed get his ass kicked.
Oh yeah, but he's physically incapable of getting his ass kicked because he's been trained by the CIA in how to not get his ass kicked. Too much kicking of the ass, I know.
"Yeah, man," Will says with a grin before turning to leave. "I'll see you guys later."
I watch as Will leaves the restaurant and walks down the street.
"So, what's up with you two?" Ed asks suspiciously eying me.
"Oh, nothing," Ice cold. Seriously, ice water must run through my veins because I've mastered the cold shoulder.
Ed's looking at me in that way that he always does when he knows somethings up. He kind of raises on eye brow and his eyes squint a little bit, focusing on his prey. He slowly puts down the bagel, picks up a napkin and wipes his face. He folds the napkin over, placing it back down onto the table, then leans in.
"Carol, what's going on here?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ed," I say, picking up my coffee and taking a sip of it. Must avoid eye contact...
"Ha. You so do. You're not making eye contact with me, there's definitely something up."
"What, did they teach you that at your little CIA training camp?"
He sighs and raises his hands in frustration before hitting the table.
"I knew something was up," he says sitting back briefly, before leaning back in and speaking in a hushed tone, "I told you guys I was sorry. I had no other choice, you have to understand where I'm coming from."
"Oh, I understand where you're coming from," I say, also lowering my voice. "And you wonder why I never gave you a chance." Oh, I'm really asking for it, aren't I?
"Oh man, you've got to be kidding me!" He exclaims, shocked. The hands are back up in the air, what a suprise. Ed was always one for the hand gestures. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it? What does me not telling you about CST and my father have anything to do with you being too scared to give us a chance?"
"It has everything to do with it." I say bitterly. "You lied to me, Ed."
"Just tell me this one thing: how does that have absolutely anything to do with my life now? Yes, I didn't tell you guys because I was not permitted by law to tell you, but I also made a moral decision. I knew that it would make no difference whether I told you about it or not...It's not like I'm going out on missions everyday and hiding it from you. I'm still the same Ed you know and love, Carol."
No, you're not the same Ed I love, and I'm not so sure whether I know you anymore.
I shake my head and push my chair out. I can't go on with this argument. Mainly because he's right. He's positively right and I have no way to argue back. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, you're right, I was just trying to find a reason to explain why I'm so stupid and can't just let myelf experience true happiness for just one moment." Yeah, that definitely won't work.
I want to be with Ed. I want to be with him so badly. But a part of me keeps saying no. I'm not good enough for him. I'll disappoint him. So why put him through that just for my own enjoyment?
God, I really do have issues. I need a shrink, and I need one bad.
"Carol!" Ed calls out as I throw my trash away and walk out the door.
I walk across the street, and look back at the restaurant through the corner of my eye. All I see is Ed sitting alone at the table, shaking his head in his hands.
Yeah, I think I need ten shrinks.
~~~
[Syd's POV]
"So, are we ever going to find our own place or will we just crash at Ed's the whole time?" I ask as I sit down by the lake and pull Michael down with me.
"I don't know," he responds thoughtfully, "we've only been together together for a week. I don't know if I'm ready to take that jump in our relationship." God, I could just eat that smile up. Yet again: cute if taken figuratively, really really creepy and disgusting if taken literally.
"You're a riot, you know that, right?" I say sarcastically as I push him playfully.
"I know, it's what you love about me," he says, leaning back on his hands.
"Oh really? What makes you think that?" I question, turning to face him.
"I distinctly recall you saying it last night in the throws of passion. I think the direct quote was 'Oh Michael, right there, don't stop, say it again, say it again. I can't live without you're witty sarcasm.'" He says with a straight face as he puts his sunglasses on.
"Ha ha, laugh it up," I joke as I lean into him. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close against him.
"Why are we here again?" He asks impatiently after a few moments of silence.
"To do stuff we 'never get the chance to do otherwise.'" I respond as I pick up his hand and trace the lines on it with the tip of my index finger.
"Crap, I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass, eventually," he sighs.
"Watch it, or I'll come back and bite you in the ass," I say, laughing.
"Kinky."
Biting the ass. Definitely not my style.
"What happened to the whole 'I want to be a good boyfriend' show?" I ask, turning to face him once again.
"Boyfriend is so juvenile. I prefer to be called a male companion."
HA. HA. HA.
"Male companion?! Since when did this transformation take place? Never would I expect for those words to come out of your mouth. Except for maybe when you were first assigned to me and we're such a prick and an ass."
"I was not the prick, and most certainly not the ass. If I recall correctly, you were the one who thought you could go out and bring SD-6 down in one day."
"Alright, alright, this argument will never end, so why don't we stop before it even starts. Back to the male companion bit. I think man whore is more like it. You, my friend, are my man ho."
"I am shocked and appauled that that's all I am to you." He says taking off his glasses in mock anger. "After all these years. After all we've been through..."
"Yup." I retort simply.
"See, if I called you my bitch or ho, it would be derrogatory and demeaning. Yet you can call me a man ho with absolutely no remorse."
"Yup."
"I'm telling you, it's sexism."
"Yup." I reply with a laugh this time.
"Okay, fine by me. As long as I atleast get some out of it, I'm good. And I did mean what I said about being a good 'man ho' to you. I just expected it to be a little more exciting than sitting here and watching the grass grow and the water ripple."
"Fine, what would you rather do?" I ask. I love this. I love our incessant banter and bickering. It's like we're an old married couple, but not. Whoa, marriage? I didn't just say marriage.
"Watch ESPN's World Strongest Man contest that just happens to be starting in five minutes."
Sydney Vaughn. Mrs. Sydney Vaughn. Sydney Bristow-Vaughn? Ugh, no. Mr. and Mrs. Michael Vaughn. That's the ticket.
THIS IS WHAT THE WORD MARRIAGE DOES TO ME! AHH!
"Um, no." I say immediately.
"Why not?" He whines like a little baby. Little Mikey Wikey would rather watch men with abnormally large necks pick up tree trunks and cars or whatever they pick up, than spend time with me. I'm insulted.
"Because I so know you sit on your couch on your days off in your ratty Kings T-shirt and those black sweats and watch it non-stop."
"So what if I do? And It's not non-stop, just so you know. It rarely comes on and that's why it's such a momentous occasion for me." Sigh.
"If you wanted to watch it why did you say we were going to spend the day together?!" I ask, confused.
"You seem like the World's Strongest Man kinda girl. We could watch World's Strongest Woman, too if you really want. They do it together..." Oh man...
"No, Michael. That is clearly something that we could very well do at any other occasion."
"Except when it's not airing on ESPN..."
"Michael..." I say warningly. Ha! I think we know who wears the pants in this relationship.
"So instead we are just going to sit here and watch the lake. Fun. Who am I kidding? I'd much rather watch that leaf float by than watch Ivan Barishvika strain to pick up a 900 pound stone."
"Are you always this stubborn?" I ask tiredly. It was cute at first, but this man never gives up.
"Only with you." Well that's a relief. Sarcasm, sarcasm.
"And why might that be?" I ask, tilting my head.
"Because you're gorgeous when you're frazzled," he says, pulling me closer to him. Damn, why does he always know exactly what to say to make my heart melt? It's a freakish skill.
"Nice cover," I say, sinking into his lap, "and did you just say 'frazzled'?"
"No."
"Okay, just checking. And you don't look so bad yourself. Those sunglasses are tres hot." I sit up once agan and take his glasses off his face and look at the brand. "Ooh, Dolce and Gabbana. No wonder. Michael's got some style." I joke, taking his chin and moving it from side to side. That smile has mysterious powers, I swear. It's like it is begging me to kiss it...
I lean in and kiss him.
Whoa there...
Whoa there...Gotta pull away before we get arrested for indecent exposure. I pull away and we're both out of breath and he's got this bright smile plastered on his face.
"Okay, clearly you're horny, I'm horny...Why don't we just go back to Ed's place and fornicate like little bunnies all day long." Okay, wierd. A guy has never admitted that he's horny to me, and I must admit, it's a little creepy. Even creepier that he wants us to 'make like bunnies.'
"Tell me about your first crush," I say sitting in front of him.
"What?" He asks, disoriented.
"Tell me about your first crush." I repeat.
"I guess fornicating is out of the picture, isn't it?" He replies, disappointed.
"If you talk now, I promise we'll fornicate later."
"Sweet! Okay, first crush?" He asks, looking out into the distance and scratching his head. Who actually scratches their head when they think, besides cartoon characters? Clearly, Michael. How cute. "Definitely Lynda Carter...Wonder woman! She was beyond hot in that skimpy little outfit she used to fight crime in--"
I should have known he'd say that.
"No, Michael, I mean a real person." I say, rolling my eyes.
"You mean Wonder Woman isn't real?!" He asks, tears welling up in his eyes. What a jokester. I never would have expected him to be this playful in a million years. But I guess it's understandable seeing that we met in dark warehouses and discussed life or death missions.
"Jenny Candol, eighth grade," he says, laughing as he wipes the tears from his eyes.
"Eighth grade? That's so old!" I say with a grin.
"What can I say, I held my crushes out til I found the right one." He says, smiling. "Man, she was like perfect. She was tall...but not as tall as me. Definitely a plus. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and she was American. She was like my dream girl."
I gasp and punch his shoulder.
"Ow! What?" My glare is seriously burning a hole through him, I swear. "Oh! No! Of course you're my dream girl...She was my dream girl in France." I laugh and ease up.
"So this was while you were still in France? I never saw you as the blonde bimbo kind of guy." Oh man, that was harsh.
"Hey, not all blondes are bimbos." He says, defensively. "And yeah, I had this sick obsession with American girls when I was younger. I was so excited to move to America because I knew that girls were so much hotter and more mature here than they were in France."
"Oh really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Really," He responds laughing as he puts a strand of hair behind my ear. "What about you?"
"Jonas Andrews, second grade." I say wistfully.
"My, my, horny even as a seven year old. I must admit, I'm not suprised." He jokes, laughing.
"Shut up." This is beyond nice.
"So, his name was Jonas." Michael says carefully. I know where this is going...
"Yes, and no, he wasn't carrying the wheel." I respond with a laugh.
"Damn, you're good. Great song. Early Weezer, good stuff."
"I never saw you as a Weezer kind of guy," I say, thinking of how un-Weezerlike he seems.
"Hey, I may be old, but I still have cousins."
"Most embarassing High School moment?" I ask, suddenly.
"Why do all our conversations always turn into this?! I mean, it's not a bad thing, it's just funny." His hands have found my hips and I'm in heaven.
"Because it's fun. I've known you for so long but there's so much that I don't know about you...How else are we going to know everything about each other?" I ask seriously.
"I could write a resume and send it your way. Then we could skip the talking and go straight for the fornicating."
"You're not going to get out of it that easily," I say, grinning. "Most embarassing moment, go!"
He takes a deep breath and the most geniune smile I have ever seen him have spreads across his face.
"Freshman year. I got pushed into the girls' locker room after baseball practice. Needless to say it was also my best high school moment. Maybe the best moment of my life to date."
"You perv!" I exclaim pushing him, yet again.
"What?! Any teenage boy would have been embarassed yet extremely pleased with that predicament."
"You horny little man."
"Little? Again, I don't th--" I immediately jump up and clamp his mouth closed with my hands. He pulls them off and starts laughing as he falls to the ground, pulling me down along with him.
"Yeah, this is better than World's Strongest Man. You were right." He admits, resting his head on his propped up elbow.
Of course I was right. I'm always right.
END CHAPTER FIFTEEN
