Mia's POV

Uh oh. He so wasn't supposed to catch me watching this. Last time I looked, he was out like a light. My voice on the phone must have woken him. I hope he didn't hear what I was saying. Oh God, I don't even remember what I said to Kenny.

I vaguely remember thanking him…I think.

In one swift motion I lunged for the remote on the floor and turned the TV off.

"Hi," I said, a little breathlessly from the lunging. I'm still on the floor too.

"Were you just watching…" His eyes are glazed over, and I don't think it's from his fever.

"Um, maybe?"

"I haven't seen that movie in so long. It was made a long time ago, how'd you get a copy?"

"eBay," I said meekly. How come he's not more pissed about this? From all the interviews I've read of his, he hates even the merest mention of this movie. "Sorry. I'll burn it if you want."

He frowned at me. "Why would I want that? I mean, sure, it's not the finest movie I've ever made, but look how cute I was back then!" He picked up the video box and held it next to his face, imitating the same facial expression.

I laughed and sat up. He crawled off the couch to sit in front of me on the floor.

"So," I said with a deep breath, suddenly realising just how close he is to me. "You're feeling better?"

"I am," he said. "Suddenly I woke up feeling refreshed. It's like something happened while I was sleeping to make me better."

"Well, something did happen while you were sleeping. I…I broke up with Kenny."

Am I going blind from the dim light in the room or did he just smile? It must have been the light. Or my eyes.

"You did, huh?" His voice is normal, not higher or happier than it would be if he was smiling. Then again, he is one of our generations' best actors. "Good for you. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks. Me too. It's just a relief. I don't have to pretend anymore."

"Yeah, pretending to like someone when you really don't is hard. It's the same way when you like someone, but can't tell them."

Is he talking about me? He's pretending to like me, but he really doesn't?

"So," I said, fumbling for something to say, something to pass the silence. "Do you wanna watch it then?"

"Are you kidding? No way. I may not want to burn it, but I don't want to burn my eyes either!"

"Okay…do you want to go back to sleep? Or do you want to do something?"

For a second he looked longingly at the bed. Then he looked back at me. "Nah. I'm all sleeped out."

"Do you want to run through some lines?"

"I have the day off 'cause I'm on my death bed, and you want me to run lines?"

"You're not still feeling like you're on your death bed, are you? We can do something else if you want…"

"No, we'll do it. I have just the scene. We're shooting it next week, so I should practice it." He stood up and grabbed a copy of the script, then he handed it to me.

"You don't need a copy for yourself?" I asked, sitting up on the couch beside him.

"Nah. Photographic memory. I have the whole thing down pat. Now, in this scene, you're going to play your bestest buddy Lana, and I'm going to be Josh."

"Okay, let's go."

How cool is this? Running lines for a movie with Michael Wilson! I'm Michael Wilson's rehearsing buddy!

"You're line's first, Sweet Cheeks."

I blushed. I was sure he wouldn't remember anything from his delirious state! "All right, Hot Pants." I blushed again, and he smiled. Then I buried my head in the script. How am I supposed to concentrate on reading this when he's distracting me like that?

"'Josh, what time do you want to pick me up for the Beach Party?'" I asked, in my best Lana-voice. Tina always says I do really good Grandmere and Lana impersonations. I think it has something to do with hating the person.

"'I dunno, babe, I'm thinking maybe we break up instead.'"

"'What? Break up? But why Josh? You can't break up with me!'"

Playing Lana is so much fun.

"'Lana, there's someone else,'" Michael scooted a little closer to me on the couch, but I was too busy trying to see where he was up to reading to take much notice. I can't see that line on the page. I turned the page over.

"'She's wonderful,'" he continued. "'She's kind, caring and really beautiful in her own way. And I don't want to be with you anymore. I want to be with her.'"

"Michael," I whispered. "Where are you up to? I don't see this here. You're supposed to tell Lana that…"

I didn't get to finish explaining what he was supposed to be saying, because a pair of lips clamped down on my own.

Oh my, God! If Josh is breaking up with Lana, why is he kissing her? And why can't I find this on the script?

"Michael!" I said when he finally released me. "What are you doing? You're not sticking to the script!"

Wait, why am I complaining that Michael Wilson just kissed me? I should be all, "I know the script doesn't call for a naked tribal rain dance, but lets pretend it does and do it any way."

"I'm improvising," he said with a shrug. "Don't you like improv?" He moved in to kiss me again, and I pulled back.

"Michael, you're still sick. We probably shouldn't be swapping body fluids."

'We probably shouldn't be swapping body fluids.' Seriously, what is WRONG with me? Why must the common sense part of my brain always take over at the wrong times? Why can't it take over when Tina cooks up some hair brained scheme for us on her cable show? Apparently my common sense part of my brain thinks it's okay to put make up on Fat Louie.

He sat back on the couch. "You're right. I'm sorry. You know, come to think about it, I'm still feeling a little under the weather, maybe I should have another nap."

Without another word, he stood up and collapsed onto his bed, leaving me speechless on the couch.

-

Have no fear, my children. Have no fear. Oh, and review.