Author's Note: Wahoo! Red Sox will, in fact, get their rings April 11th. And the Yankees get to watch. Mwa haha. I'm sure my favorite Yankee reader will be glued to her TV set, right? Six days til the first Spring Training Game

Handsoff: You are sick. Move out of Silicon Valley. Like, NOW

Rise: I love having half sentence conversations with you. You know too much about this here story. So I must of course add more to keep you on your toes.

Alenor: Andrew is a rip off of the Disney movie character. As was Nicholas. They have very little do do with the story, just wanted to show that she does have friends over in Genovia for when she moves there.

Jesse's Babe: Lilly makes it her business to stay out of Michael's business. Plus, out of personal experience, I can honestly say that telling your best friend that you are in love with them is probably the hardest thing. And scariest. I'm still terrified of it. Everyone saw that we liked one another and were perfect together, but we never made the official move. I can't say that Mia and Michael ever will. I'm telling you, this story goes to the end of Mia's college freshman year. And who knows, maybe a sequel or two ;)

Dyer's Eve: Kill Sarah Jane? What has she ever done?

Lyra: Deepest apologies for miss spelling Miss Lohan's name. I'm not a fan and care very little for her so I don't know how to spell her name. You may get what you want from Schilling. I dunno, I sense something.

Lady Coco: Always love new readers.

Poisonibe: Sometimes it's hard to notice that someone looks like you. I apparently am identical to my older sister and only noticed it after I thought I was looking at a picture of her and it was actually me. And if you don't know someone it's probably even harder to notice. She's just another person around them, ya know?


MIA:

"I hate New Years Eve in the city," I whined, sitting in the Moscovitz living room, watching tourists buzz around below.

"You've experienced what, sixteen before?" Michael said logically. "Deal with it. Besides, would you rather be in Genovia?" I hate when he's so damn logical. And how he raises his eyebrows when he says Genovia.

He hates Genovia. We both knew it would be the end of my carefree life in New York. I would have to quit the band and attend to my royal duties. I'd have to leave all my friendships behind…I'd have to leave him behind. "No, I'd rather be here with you…I mean, you guys rather than Genovia."

He smirked. He knew what I meant. But he wasn't going to say anything.

We New Yorkers never went out on New Year's Eve. It was stupid and way over crowded. Lars appreciated this a great deal cuz now he didn't have to deal with any punk asses screwing around with me. He would leave me at the Moscovitz's and be done for the night. Free to go see his new girlfriend that he rarely speaks of, but always asks my opinion on.

"You going out?" I asked Michael curiously. I noted how he was wearing his black Ramone's shirt that I fully intended on stealing one of these days. He hadn't combed his hair, but he had his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

Please say no. Please say no. Please say-

"No. Manny might come over. He's uh…bringing some stuff over."

I nodded, knowing full well what he meant. "Stuff…."

He went and spat out the toothpaste. "Yeah, stuff. Are you drinking tonight?"

I smiled at how he was nervously forked his fingers through his short hair. "I dunno. Let's see how things go."

"Mia, sorry to ditch you upon your triumphant return," Lilly said coming in and interrupting our weird moment, "But Tina is totally spazzing out about some guy."

"Thank GOD. She's moved on?" Michael asked. It would have sounded totally ass-holy from any other guy, but he was really thankful.

"She was dating some guy at Trinity after I told her you were dating someone at school. And finally you really did when you began dating Sarah Jane. So I wasn't lying anymore," she said, looking pointedly at me. "But she's still obsessing over you. Not that she has big posters of you or anything…but I did notice a Mrs. Michael Moscovitz in her notebook the other day."

Ha. At least my infatuation with him has not gone that far. Okay, so what, Prince Consort Michael Moscovitz Renaldo. No biggie. It's a joke. And only in my journal. Which no one ever sees. Except for me. And sometimes Lars sees from over my shoulder.

"Anyways, she's trying to tell me she's going to sleep with him."

Michael nearly fell down laughing.

"Why on earth would she do that?" I asked, plopping down on their couch, surprised.

"Well, one, because she's the only non-virgin in our little group."

I looked at Michael who's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Oh please," she said casually grabbing her jacket. "You had sex when you were my age."

"Seventeen? No. Eighteen and a half."

"I bet you remember the exact date," Lilly teased.

He glanced at me and blushed. "No."

"You are so sick," Lilly teased. "But I'm sure you can entertain Mia while I am away?" she continued, pulling her mittens on.

"Wait, stop. Who?" I asked, still trying to remember if I noticed a change in her. Probably not. She didn't know when I'd slept with Michael…God, that was almost a whole year ago.

Lilly half smiled, "You don't tell me all your love sagas, do you?" she asked, glancing at Michael quickly.

I sat on the couch, open mouthed. I can't believe she just said that. "Lilly! Who was it!"

"Behave kiddies," she replied.

We sat in quiet confusion. "Did you know?" he asked softly.

I looked at him quietly. He had the look he has when he's figuring something out. "Uh, no," I replied. "I don't discuss stuff with her and she doesn't with me. It's private."

He blushed a little bit and then replied:

"You um…wanna go for a walk? Maybe wanna watch some punks fall on their asses at the park?" I smiled, "Sounds nice."

It had snowed in the city while I was in Genovia, so we walked on the semi plowed walk ways of Echo Park. "How was Genovia?" he asked, kicking an icicle off of a bench.

"Boring. I mean, I guess it's a good think Grandmere has trained me. I can put up with those obnoxious French kids without yakking. Andrew was so funny and pretended to be hitting on me so Grandmere would leave us both alone. But the Frenchies…." I continued on about the Frenchies before looking to my right and realizing he was no longer next to me. I turned back and around. "Michael? Michael?" Oh God. I was here, in public, with no one around. Lars had thought I was set for the rest of the day. This was just an-"Ow!" I screamed, getting something cold and hard thrown at my head. "You are so going to get it Fluffy!"

I caught him hiding behind a tree out of the corner of my eye. I noticed he was going down to get more snow to throw, so I pounced; tackling him to the ground.

"Never knew you had so much force, Trixie," he teased.

I rolled off of him and stared up at the sky. It was getting darker out. "When was the last time you made a snow angel?" I asked, already moving my limbs to make one.

"Never," he replied.

I turned and cocked an eyebrow, "You really are quite weird. Move your arms a little more gracefully."

I stood up and watched him. "No, stop swinging your arms—right, like that," I instructed.

He looked at me oddly.
"What?" I asked, wiping my face. Maybe I had something on there.

"Nothing. Forget it. Help me up."

We decided to watch a Brat Pack marathon that night. I sat on the couch next to Michael while Lilly and Manny sat on the love seat, bickering over the remote.

I left my hand on the cushion, inviting him to take it. He linked his pinky with mine, but we didn't look at one another. We kept our eyes glued to the screen. About half way through my hand was completely in his.

His hands were warm and smooth. Not rough like Schilling's were. Schilling was always out at the batting cages and never wore batting gloves. Michaels were soft and smooth and…well, Michael.

"Think those two will start making out?" he whispered.

"Just as soon as we will," I teased.

He took a long sip of his beer. "When is that?"

I suck. I suck. I suck. After he said that I popped open a drink. I started picturing us making out in his bedroom. Forgetting about Schilling.

We kept drinking our drinks. Not talking. We started rubbing hands though. I could see he liked it though. Normally he wore tight jeans and you could only see his um…outline. But tonight he was wearing sweats. I could see he was enjoying himself. Or that he was anticipating enjoying himself. He squeezed my hand and motioned for me to follow him out of the room, away from his sister and friend. "I'm gonna get something from my room. I'll be back in a bit."

A few minutes later, during a particularly stupid part of For Keeps?(when she's just cut her hair and he's all whoa, I got you some ugly prom shoes to go with your equally ugly prom dress which totally clashes with your red hair) , I got up.

"Where are you going?" Manny asked.

"Bathroom."

I did go into the bathroom; Michael pulled me in there and started kissing me like crazy. But he didn't say anything. Never asked, but I never made him. We always were the type to just start kissing without asking. Just doing what we wanted.

I let him press against me into the coolness of the bathroom tile. I thought of Schilling. He was probably out with his friends right now. Would I care if he were in the bathroom with some strange girl?

That answer was no. But I didn't want to think about why I wouldn't care. Who would want to think about that when they have Michael Moscovitz kissing the hell out of them? I mean, he's only the finest of human specimens. While I know I have said that Schill is the best looking person I've met up close, Michael is the best person all around that I've ever met.

He has these lips that just….And his eyes that bore into your soul….And his hands….God, musicians have such beautiful hands and he definitely knows what to do with them.

And every single word (okay, drunken word) he says sounds like poetry. I know I sound totally corny, but it's the truth. When he tells me that my skin is so soft and tells me that I'm so beautiful, I almost believe him.

I want to believe he thinks that sooo much. But I know it's just the sex for him. And he gets to be my best friend at the same time. He would have done something by now if he actually….

"Mia," he moaned as he let his hand grope one of my rather embarrassing breasts. I can't believe he wants to continue this affair with a small breasted freak like me. But hey, at least he said my name. Not even his real actual girlfriend's name.

"I wanna…" he started before I took his mouth over with my own.

He smirked as we pulled back .

"You wanna what?" I asked as he re-adjusted us against the wall. Is it weird that I'm used to having my legs wrapped around his waist? And having his hands on my backside?

"Get you in my bed," he replied honestly.

I wasn't used to his blatant honesty. When you drink you don't think coherently enough to be honest. Was he even drunk? How many drinks had he had? "Then take me," I whispered, batting my eyelashes. Wow. That was totally just out of a cheesy romance novel that Tina read. She had graduated into Harlequin Romances and always tried to get me to read them. But reading about some guy's lusting loins? No thanks.

He licked his lips. "Fine." He peeked his head out the bathroom door and listened for his sister or Manny. "Let's go," he said laughing as I kissed his neck. He held onto my thighs, my legs wrapped around him still. He had to keep me balanced.

"Sssh, be veddy veddy quiet," he said locking the door. He put on some music and then we fell onto the bed.

We talked for a very long time. Somehow the transition from the totally unromantic bathroom to the bedroom was a mood killer. Made us more mellow.

We talked about everything under the sun. About music. About life. How much I don't want to be a princess. There were scattered kisses here and there, but we mostly talked and joked around. If Schilling weren't around I would have said Michael and I were boyfriend and girlfriend. But we aren't. We are just 'fooling around' with friends.

I started realizing that I knew why I didn't want Schilling to love me. Why whenever he said he loved me I just I wanted Michael to. I wanted him to say in a clear calm voice that he loves me. Mia. Not Serena. Me. NotSarah Jane…Mia. I kind of hoped he would be saying that as part of his sweet nothings, but he didn't. He just talked about the set list for our next show. I know, terribly romantic huh?

He didn't really love me. He just wanted someone to fool around with.

MICHAEL:

She said the words that every man wants the woman he's in love with to say: Take Me. I mean, how hot is that?

I love her. I love. Her. Her I love…I'm pitiful. I can't even get the words out to her. I mean, I keep going on about the stupid set list and how I think she'll be a great guitarist. But I cannot get the words out about how I feel. Last time I tried and failed miserably. But she probably wouldn't want to hear it. She's in love with that stupid Schilling guy. She's going to go running back to him once he comes back from break. Plus, Sarah Jane. I had a girlfriend now. I was now cheating on a girl. I never thought I'd do that. But I've been making Mia do that for months now. Almost a whole year.

But I can have fun with her while I can. "I don't want-"

"Mia! Phone!" Lilly called out..

We stared at the door in silence. Lilly will kill us. I mean, if she saw where my hand currently was located (residing on Mia's inner thigh, just sitting there though, not doing anything….yet) Well, she kind of knew…but I'm sure she wouldn't like seeing anything. I got up and picked up my guitar and pretended to be showing her a new song. "One second Lilly. Michael's playing the new song."

"It's Schil-ling!" she said in a sing song voice.

I sighed as I watched her hustle off to her boyfriend. I'm a shithead. I shouldn't be doing this when she has a great guy calling her from Wisconsin. I hate my life.

I strolled back into the living room and opened up another beer. She was talking in whispered tones to the boyfriend on the phone. "Happy new year," Lilly said from her position on the lazy boy.

I looked down on her, then at the clock. "It's not the new year yet," I argued.

"Um, in about two minutes it will be," she replied. "And look at you, all alone," she said snuggling into a very drunken Manny. He'd have to be drunk to be with her.

"Well fine then. Go screw around with whomever. I don't care. I do not care! There is nothing going on…no, we are just friends…none of your business…well….fine. Whatever. Go screw around with Barbie or Bambi, I don't care. I don't care because apparently I am carrying on an affair with…with Orlando. Good bye." Mia hung up her phone and slammed it on the kitchen counter.

I went to the kitchen. "Hey."

"Boys are horrible creatures," she replied.

"What happened?" I asked, opening the freezer and taking out some Chubby Hubby. She grabbed some spoons.

"He heard that I was over here."

"Yeah."

"And thought we were at a big party or something."
"Uh huh."

"And he says…um…well, he thought I was with uh….Orlando or something," she replied wiping her nose. I handed her a tissue. She shouldn't cry over this guy.

Great. Psycho. "And you said…"

"How'd you know? Me and Orlando have been having an affair this whole time," she replied, still wiping her nose. I handed her another tissue.

I smirked. We kind of had been. "Yeah. I knew it."

She half smiled, "I mean, yes, I am a shitty girlfriend. But there is no back ground noise here. Where he is all I can hear are girls voices calling him over to them."

"Oh. So it's over?" I asked, trying not to smile. I bit my lip hard.

"I dunno. It's on a break I guess."

I let my hand cover hers. "Okay."

We went to bed shortly after that. She slept in my bed, but we didn't do anything. Seriously. I didn't even want to. We might actually have a chance now that Schilling is gone. I don't want to screw it up in a drunken sex session.

But I have Sarah Jane. And I didn't want to freak Mia out and dump her right away. She'd think it was just because of her. Which, of course, it was. But she didn't have to know that. Not yet at least.