Author's Note:
I wasn't even planning on doing a chapter tonight, but I was avoiding my homework and sat down, and about three hours later, I came up with this. I hope you guys like it. A little more Michael/Mia action happens here. Please review and tell me what you think of this one, because I'm not really sure that I like it or not. I'm kind of nervous about posting it.
Mia pushed through the crowds of drunken people in the hallway outside Felix's room, coughing and rubbing at her watering eyes. The smoke was thick and impairing her senses, and she had to get out. Her eyes searched the crowd quickly, darting around, hoping to spot Michael's dark haired head somewhere amongst all the people. But she had no such luck. Frustrated, she finally reached the front door and walked outside.
Realizing she hadn't told Kenny she was leaving, Mia debated going back inside to tell him. She turned around and stared back into the house through the open door and at all the people and instead, decided to call his cell phone from her own and leave him a message telling him that she was done with the party and had gone back to the Moscovitzes to sleep over with Lilly, which wasn't a total and complete lie. She left a quick message on his voicemail, and then shoved her phone back into the pocket of her jacket, zipping it shut.
Pushing all thoughts of Kenny Showalter out of her mind, Mia's eyes desperately searched the front yard. She didn't know what to expect from Michael – where he'd go, what he'd do, how he'd react to the whole situation. Mia had become increasingly better friends with him in the past month, but she still had no idea what he'd do in this kind of situation. She only hoped it wasn't anything drastic.
Sighing, she walked down the front steps. Most of the people who had been outside earlier had moved on to the interior of Felix's house when it had began to rain slightly, leaving the front yard mostly empty except for a few scattered, abandoned cups strewn across the grass. Mia's pretty, perfect red party dress was getting splattered with raindrops, but she didn't care.
Mia opened the gate at Felix's fence and walked through, shutting it silently behind her. Turning to walk towards the Moscovitzes, Mia almost tripped over something, someone, sitting on the wet sidewalk with his back against the fence. Mia breathed a sigh of relief as the person she'd nearly fallen over turned to look up at her. It was Michael. He was completely and thoroughly drenched from head to toe, and his dark hair was even darker with its wetness, all plastered to his forehead.
She knew it was wrong to have these thoughts, when Michael was probably completely depressed, completely wet, but she couldn't help herself. He still looked gorgeous. His normally sarcastic, smiling eyes were dark, and there was such emotion projected through his eyes that Mia couldn't even identify what it was that Michael must be feeling at that moment.
Not knowing what to say, Mia simply put her coat down on the wet sidewalk right beside where he sat, and sat down on it, smoothing her wet dress down. Her hair was beginning to get completely soaked with the water that was now pouring from the dark, gray night sky. Mia shivered.
For once, Mia couldn't find the words to say anything to him.
It was definitely a different kind of situation. Usually when they were together, either one of them, or both of them, wouldn't stop talking. However, after such an incident had taken place, Mia wasn't sure what she could say to make anything better, and so she simply assumed that there was nothing she could say. Michael would talk to her if he wanted to. When he was ready to. And the silence, though thick with tension, was comfortable silence.
And then, Michael spoke. Mia didn't know how long it had been that they'd sat there in silence. The rain continued to pour, and Michael, staring at his black Chuck Taylors, said softly, "Mia?" as if he was questioning the fact that she was still there beside him.
Mia glanced over at him tentatively. He was still staring at the ground, as if entranced by the wet sidewalk and the grass growing through the cracks in the concrete. She wasn't sure if he wanted her to answer him, or if he was just checking that she was still there beside him. "Yeah, Michael?" she answered, almost in a whisper.
Abruptly, Michael pulled himself to his feet robotically, extending his hand to Mia. Mia looked at him, and then down at his hand and grabbed it, pulling herself up with his help, grabbing her wet jacket as she did. Though they were both soaked and freezing, Mia could feel his warmth from the touch of his hand to hers radiating throughout her whole entire body. She dropped his hand, then, and he ran his fingers through his wet hair.
Wordlessly, Michael turned in the direction of the Moscovitzes apartment and began to walk away slowly. Mia stood there, rooted to the spot where she had stood up. A few steps after he had began walking, Michael realized Mia wasn't following him and turned around to face her. "Are you coming?" he asked, his voice soft.
"If you want me to," Mia answered, her voice still almost a whisper.
He didn't have to say anything. Michael simply nodded, and Mia walked towards him slowly. When she'd caught up with him those few steps, he continued to walk. The space between them was a few feet wide, but regardless of their distance from each other, it was almost as if Mia could feel his presence around her. It was a spooky thing.
They walked for the rest of the distance to the Moscovitzes' apartment together in silence. When they were about to turn the corner and up the sidewalk to the front door of the apartment building, Michael stopped and turned in the opposite direction, crossing the street and walking towards the children's park. Hesitantly, Mia followed him.
He sat down on a swing, and Mia sat down on the swing next to him. "You know," Michael said, interrupting the silence between them, "I always thought I was good to her. I mean, I know I'm a dork and all. I'm not the coolest guy on earth, but I thought I was at least a good boyfriend. Was I so wrong to think that? I was there for her. I…" he trailed off. "I liked her a lot."
Mia shook her head. "No," she replied, slowly, thinking about her response. "It's not your fault, Michael. None of this is." She paused, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly. "Judith obviously doesn't know how good she had it with you."
Michael looked over at Mia, his face full of emotion. "I liked her so much," he repeated. "Do you know, she was my first real girlfriend? We got together six months ago, at a friend's party. I guess I'd been sort of interested in her for awhile, and she kissed me, and then it was like, we were together all of the sudden. Before that, we were just friends. Best friends, actually." He stopped, looking away from Mia and frowning down at his shoes and the sand underneath his swing. "The thing that makes me saddest about all of this is the fact that we probably won't be able to be friends like we were before after all this crap's over and done with. I'm not going to miss her as my girlfriend. I'm going to miss her as my best friend. And I guess having her as my girlfriend was kind of just a way of keeping my best friend closer to me." Michael paused. "Do you know what I mean at all?"
Mia nodded. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean, I think."
He shook his head then, a half-smile bitterly placed on his face. "I shouldn't be talking to you about this. I mean, you don't have to listen to me get all angsty about my lying, cheating girlfriend. I'm sorry, Mia," he said. "I just didn't have anyone to talk to and I don't know if there's anyone I could talk to," he finished, looking down at his hands.
Mia reached over and touched his bare, wet arm gently with her damp fingers, a simple gesture which turned into something more once Mia let her fingers linger a few moments too long. Not knowing what she had been thinking, she snatched her hand away, her cheeks burning. "I, uh," Mia stuttered. "I mean, Michael, you don't have to feel badly about confiding in me. That's what friends are for."
He reached up his hand and rubbed the place her fingers had just rested on his arm absentmindedly, his deep peat-bog brown eyes strangely fixated on her grey eyes, unblinking and seemingly mesmerized. Michael bit his lip, and as if in a trance, reached his hand out slowly to where Mia's hand rested on her dress. Her fingers met his fingers, and he intertwined them together, gently rubbing her hand with his thumb, his eyes never leaving hers.
Mia felt as if she was going to spontaneously combust at any given moment in time. Michael must have been suffering from some weird kind of shock as a result of seeing his girlfriend lying on a bed at a party, completely drunk and making out with some disgusting, muscle-bound football player type guy. But even then, even if Michael had have been in shock and that was the only reason he was caressing Mia's hand so softly and gently with his thumb, even then Mia would have still felt warm all over. It was almost as if she was flying, and she never wanted to come down. It was amazing the way that Michael could do such a thing to her by such a simple gesture.
And then, as Mia realized what was happening, that Michael Moscovitz was holding her hand, stroking her hand, and staring deeply into her eyes, she broke herself out of the love-induced haze trancelike state that had formed in her mind and snatched her hand away, standing up abruptly and walking a few steps away from Michael. What on earth was going on? Michael must have been suffering from severe delusions as a result of tonight's traumatic experiences.
She stood back at the sidewalk, directly across from the Moscovitzes' apartment building. Mia took a few deep breaths in and exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself down the way that Grandmere had taught her to when she was twelve and got nervous speaking in front of the Genovian Parliament. This method didn't work so well at this particular moment in time, however, and Mia found herself just panicking even more.
Mia turned around, fully prepared to tell Michael that she was going back to the Moscovitzes apartment. She was freezing cold, as well as completely tired out, and to be honest, the situation of being alone with Michael in the park at night with him holding her hand and gazing lovingly into her eyes was beginning to freak her right out. Not that it wasn't nice. It was just that Mia couldn't help thinking that Michael just didn't know what he was doing, because of all the awful things that had happened that night.
However, when she turned around, she found that Michael was about two feet away from her, and staring right at her again, intently. Maybe Michael had been lying when he said he hadn't been drinking. Maybe he was actually completely drunk and Mia just hadn't been able to tell it before. That would explain a lot. Mia felt her breathing start to increase and her heart rate felt as if it just tripled as Michael, smiling a slight half-smile, broke eye contact and stared down at the damp sand, kicking at it with his wet shoes.
Just when Mia had breathed a sigh of relief when Michael had stopped staring at her so fixatedly, he took a few steps towards her until he was mere inches away. She could practically feel his warm breath on her face, and it didn't smell like alcohol. So he really hadn't been lying when he said he hadn't been drinking. Scratch the idea that he might be completely drunk. However, the 'in shock and having delusions' thing was still a possibility. Nervous, Mia took a step back.
And Michael took two steps forward, reaching up his hand to touch her face, an expression of wonderment on his own face. "Mia," he whispered, his voice softer than Mia had ever heard him speak before. Oh, God. Mia was going to faint. Michael's close proximity to her was intoxicating. He brought his other hand to her face, and Mia thought that her knees would give out. She felt her mind entering that love-induced haze again, and she fought it as hard as she could, remembering that it was just that night, an hour ago, when Michael had caught his girlfriend of six months making out with another guy at his friend's party.
Michael took a deep breath and leaned in to Mia. Mia's eyes widened as she saw Michael close his eyes and begin to lean in, closer and closer, slowly. He was going to kiss her.
Mia didn't know whether to jump for joy, and then close her own eyes and return the sentiment, or push him away because of the whole circumstances of the situation. Half of Mia's heart was screaming yes, let him kiss you, and the other half was crying out no, remember what happened tonight. She was scared to the point of immobility, frozen in her spot.
But as Michael drew closer, Mia knew what she had to do.
She brought her hands up and placed them gently on his shoulders, closing her eyes. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. The guy of her dreams was standing here, wanting to kiss her.
Mia gently shook Michael's shoulders with her hands, and then opened her eyes. "Michael." She didn't know what else to say. She couldn't believe that she'd just been standing here and Michael had been fully intending to kiss her, and she'd refused him. Mia had just pushed the guy of her dreams away. Mia's heart sank. But it wouldn't have been right to kiss him. He was hurting, because of Judith's cheating, and Mia didn't want to take advantage of him. And she didn't want him to take advantage of her to get even with Judith. Michael didn't even like Mia that way. He couldn't. They were just friends, and Michael was in love with Judith. And it just wasn't right.
Michael opened his eyes, an expression of confusion present on his face. As if he had no idea what he'd been doing. His eyes widened. "Oh, shit," he said under his breath, wringing his hands through his damp hair. His expression became apologetic, and he shook his head at Mia, wide-eyed. "I'm so sorry, Mia," he said, his words rushed. "I don't know what I was thinking."
"Michael, we can't do this," Mia started. "You know. You can't use me like that to get back at Judith, just because you're mad at her for cheating on you. You're in love with Judith," she continued, as much as it pained her to admit these words out loud. "Not me. We're just friends, Michael. And I'm dating Kenny, who is my boyfriend, and who would not be so pleased if you, his friend, and I, his girlfriend, well, kissed." She breathed in deeply. "You just need some time to get over all of this."
He shook his head. "Yeah, Mia, I know. I have no idea what I was thinking." His cheeks were flushed a bright pink. "I'm such a jerk. I'd really like it if we could just forget that this ever happened," he continued.
"Me too," Mia lied. She never, ever, wanted to forget the fact that Michael Moscovitz had almost kissed her. Even if it was just because he was in pain over his cheating girlfriend and didn't know what the hell he was doing at the time. She never wanted to forget the feeling of his breath on her face, cool and sweet. As if anything as awesome as almost-kissing Michael Moscovitz would ever happen to her in her life ever again. Yeah, right. "I need to get back to the apartment. Lilly's expecting me," she said, quickly.
Michael nodded and they walked back across the street silently. When they reached the front door of the Moscovitzes' residence, Michael slid his key into the lock and turned to Mia before opening the door. "Could you not mention any of this to Lilly?" he asked. "I mean the whole Judith cheating on me, and you and I almost..." he trailed off, looking at Mia, his cheeks flushing again. "You know what I'm talking about. Please don't tell Lilly."
Mia nodded. "Sure."
There was no way Mia was going to sleep at all tonight.
