Mia's POV
How did this happen?
This morning, I was totally resolute on the fact that Michael Wilson is an ass. But now, I'm sitting up in bed, having spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening with him, and I'm reconsidering it all.
Let's break this down. He was an ass when he made fun of me the other day when I was just trying to help him be more Josh-like, he's always rude and anxious to get rid of me, and…and…
And now he's a sweetie. He apologized (sincerely, I might add) about the Josh thing, and he hung out with me even when he didn't have to.
We ate Chinese take out, we played Mario Kart for hours, and we talked. Who knew that underneath those chiseled abs and rock hard pecs lay a heart that beat like anyone else's? I certainly never thought it. I just assumed that you checked your heart and your feelings at the security gate to the studio along with your other valuables.
But no, Michael Wilson, or should I say Moscovitz, is a real boy, just like Pinocchio. Well man, actually.
And I'm…infatuated with him again. No! How did this happen? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???
Michael's POV
Who knew fourteen year old princesses were so much fun?
I've seriously been whistling a jaunty tune the whole way from her place to mine. I never whistle, and even if I do, it's the theme to James Bond or Mission Impossible or something.
Something's wrong. I can't be falling for this princess, can I?
No. It must have been something in the popcorn at the movies. Or maybe too much MSG in the Chinese food.
Whatever it was, it's not real. And I won't feel it in the morning once
I've slept it off. Which is what I'll do as soon as I get inside the door. I was going to call Jessica Winter to see if she was in town, but no, I need some Michael time. I need to sleep off whatever it is Mia has done to me.
Mia's POV
When I woke up this beautiful Monday morning, Michael Wilson was staring down at me. No, not him literally, but last night, before I fell asleep, I taped my poster back up. It's only a little bit ripped.
And he still looks smokin'.
It's hard to believe that those chocolate brown eyes had looked deeply into mine the other night, that those strong, masculine hands had caressed mine…Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but it's still hard to believe that the guy I played Nintendo with, and the sexy stud on this poster, are one in the same.
Though people at school sure seem to believe it.
"What's this, Mia?" Kenny came running up to me as soon as I stepped out of the limo.
"What?" I asked nonchalantly. Not even Kenny can ruin my mood.
"This!" he cried, thrusting a newspaper in my hands.
"When Mia Met Michael," the headline screamed at me. A picture of Michael smiling beatifically, holding my hand outside the movie theatre while I looked confused, was underneath it.
"I don't know, Kenny. What is it?"
He didn't answer me; he just let me finish reading he article.
Apparently, I'm being billed as Michael's next big love interest (Please. I wish). It says we met on the set of the movie of my life, and sparks flew. According to the article, he was dating Jessica Winter, but since I've come on the scene she's told him it's over. Which, the paper says, makes more room for me and our 'romantic trysts', like on Saturday.
Oh man, if only everything in newspapers was true.
I laughed out loud and threw the paper back into Kenny's arms. He was staring at me with wide eyes.
"Kenny," I said. "Don't believe everything you read in the papers."
Then I walked on past him. Hey, if he wants to believe something is actually going on with me and Michael, who am I to stop him. Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll break up with me over it.
Is that too cruel?
"Okay, Mia," Kenny said. He linked his arm through mine and walked alongside me, much to my dismay. "If you tell me nothing's going on, I'll believe you."
Damnit.
Michael's POV
"So how was your afternoon with the princess?" Lilly asked me as soon as I walked onto the set.
'None of your damn business,' I wanted to reply. But being in such a good mood (no, it still hasn't rubbed off yet. Maybe I haven't had enough sleep. I've been a little restless since) makes it impossible to be rude even to Lilly.
So I settled for, "It was all right," with a big, sheepish grin that I just couldn't hold back.
"What's that look for?" she asked skeptically. "Do you…you don't like her, do you?"
"The princess?" I tried my hardest to sound disgusted. "No way."
"Sure, whatever you say. But, you should see this." She shoved a newspaper in my hands.
A photo from when Mia and I left the cinemas and I grabbed her hand, adorned the page. She looks so confused by my action, it's somewhat cute.
In a totally rabid way, of course.
"What? I haven't even spoken to Jessica in weeks! And we weren't even really dating, anyway."
"Well, that's not what the paper says."
"Lilly, I learnt a long time ago not to believe everything papers say.
Remember when Teen Beat tried to convince people that I played the little girl in that 1993 movie, West Went Wally?"
Lilly raised her eyebrows as if she'd never doubted that story. Just like most people. Why believe what the actual person says when you can believe what some loser in an office can type up? I mean sure, it WAS me in that movie, but no one was ever supposed to link the current Michael Wilson to the little boy who played a girl. I used a totally different name too, Michelle Moscovitz, so I don't know how anyone figured it out.
Whatever.
Mia's POV
Kenny isn't the only one who noticed that article in the paper. The cat is out of the bag about the movie of my life. Everyone's been coming up to me asking if they're going to be in it. Why would the guy who hates when they put corn in his chili think he'd have a role in my movie?
"Well, Amelia," Lana's voice rang through my ears as soon as I walked into Algebra. "It seems you're completely out to get me, aren't you?"
"Excuse me?" What does anything have to do with her? She's so self-absorbed.
"First, you tried to steal my current boyfriend, and now you're trying to steal my future husband!" She practically spat at me.
"Lana, I never stole anything from you. Josh broke up with you, and you don't even know Michael Wilson."
"Not yet," she spat again. "But I have a plan. And you're stepping all over it!"
"Whatever, Lana," I said.
"Listen, Mia, I can make things very hard for you, if you don't play nice. So don't you think it would be in your best interest to introduce me to Michael? Maybe bring me along to the movie set as your friend."
"But we're not friends, Lana," I pointed out.
"What are you talking about?" she said, her voice was so sugary sweet if I were diabetic I would have needed a major insulin shot.
"Look, just introduce me, okay?"
Like hell I will.
