To the person who thought Mia was letting Michael walk over her and acting like a loser, Mia comes into her own. She's star-struck right now, but I think she's also starting to see Michael as a real person rather than his movie-star persona.
Michael's POV
Thermopolis is such a good, kind nurse.
I can't remember her first name right now. There's an 'a'. Maybe. Is it Mischa? Or Lisa?
"Elmyra," I said, my voice raspy. "You're really good at this. I don't really feel all that awful."
"It's Mia," she laughed. Right, I knew that. Mia's so pretty. She's my guardian angel and I just want to kiss her, because that would probably make me feel a lot better.
She brought me water instead. Fair enough.
I sipped my drink, watching her fiddle with the Thermostat. "Fiona?" I called, sitting up suddenly.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
"What's wrong?" she asked. But I didn't answer. I just rushed past her on my way to the bathroom.
Thermopolis came and sat beside me as I retched, rubbing my back when I was done.
I didn't feel much like taking another step, so I curled up on the floor. The tile felt really nice and cool against my burning forehead.
"Michael, get up. Let's get you back to the couch," said the pretty girl whom I love so very much. She put her arms around my waist and tried to pull me up, but to no avail.
"I lift lots of weights. I do that so girls will squeal at me. But I hate them a lot. I like you, Rita."
I lifted my hand up and stroked the side of her face. "Why do you have to have a boyfriend? I don't like Kenny."
"Me either," she said, her lips parting into a smile. I tried to lift my head up to meet hers, but it wasn't happening.
"You're so beautiful, Sweet Cheeks. Can I call you that? I like that name."
She put a hand to my forehead and shook her head, her shiny hair swishing from side to side. "You can call me whatever you want. Only if I can call you…Hot Pants." She giggled after this, but I didn't get it. My pants did feel kinda hot.
"Okay. Sweet Cheeks, help me back to my bed. I don't like the floor much. Not like I like you."
"You'll have to meet me halfway," she said, groaning as she started to lift me again. With our powers combined, I finally managed to stumble over to my nice, comfy bed.
My eyelids were drooping when the whole room gave a sudden jerk. I cried out and gripped the edge of the bed tightly.
"What's wrong?" asked Nita, looking alarmed. But she hadn't moved an inch.
I pulled her onto the bed with me. "Don't leave me," I stage-whispered. "Not till everything stops moving."
"Alright," she said shakily, feeling my forehead again. "God, you're burning up. No wonder you're being so weird. We need to break your fever."
She stood and walked to the other side of the trailer. I tilted my head, enjoying the view. There are some things all guys appreciate—no matter their state of physical well-being. Or mental, for that matter.
Mia's POV
Michael's so ODD when he's sick. I wonder if this is how I am when I get delirious. He can't even get my name right!
I dampened a washcloth and brought it over to him, dabbing his forehead gently. He hummed happily squirming around under the sheets. "Keep doing that."
I did, until he drifted off, shivering just a little. So I pulled the comforter up around him and smoothed down his hair. Then I went and got a Tupperware container from the little kitchen and put it down on the floor by his bed in case he needed to blow chunks some more.
I looked around for something to do. Watching Michael sleep was only cute for ten minutes or so, then it just got creepy.
In a fit of madness, I grabbed my backpack, intending to go over my Algebra from the night before. Instead, I found a copy of Extraterrestrials in the Outback that I'd stuck in there back when I was mad at Michael. I was going to have him sign it to piss him off.
I'd never actually seen it, though. Michael looked so young and adorable on the cover, holding a lantern and peering around the corner of a building, where some sort of demon kangaroo waited.
I glanced over at Michael, who was dozing peacefully. After a few seconds, I made up my mind, pulling the curtain around him and hurrying to the television.
This should be…interesting, at least.
- - -
Well.
A bowl of popcorn, a cheesy family sci-fi movie, and a snoring Michael Wilson can really mess a girl up.
Somewhere in the middle of the movie—I do believe it was when a dungaree-clad Michael confronted the satanic koalas—I decided that Michael was right. Kenny was completely wrong for me, and dating a guy for a good Biology grade was completely unethical.
Michael's so sweet. Not many guys have my best interests at heart.
Anyway, before I could lose my nerve, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Kenny's number. I knew he would have it off during school hours, so there was no chance for confrontation.
"Hi, Mia, it's Kenny. I mean…Hi, Kenny. This is Mia. Thermopolis. Um, I wasn't feeling well today so I didn't come in and anyway, that's not what I'm calling about. I'm calling to tell you that I like you and appreciate you as a person and all of that, but maybe we just aren't…compatible. Tauruses and…"
Hmmm, that's odd. I swear I know Kenny's birthday! It's one of those months that ends with "Y". Or maybe "R". Or is it April?
"Tauruses aren't very relationship-oriented at all. Not romantic people in the least. So you kind of got stuck with a terrible girlfriend. It's okay, though. Because we're better friends. I'm more of a platonic person, in general. So…it's been nice. Thanks."
And I hung up.
Did I really just THANK him? Who does that?!
"Whatcha doin'?" said a voice in my ear.
And there was Michael, looking much more lucid. His eyes were focused on the TV screen, though, with a mixture of annoyance and something I couldn't identify.
Crap.
