What's better than lounging around on the grass of Central Park, ogling hot guys that walk past, while kissing the guy of your dreams at the very same time? I don't think even Dance Dance Party Revolution (which is mine and Michael's favourite game) compares.

"You have a thing against unibrows, right?" Michael asked, stroking my belly and indicating to a mid twenty year old approaching the water fountain.

"When they're that intense, yes," I said, clasping his hand with mine as it played with the hem of my shirt. Normally I'd be relieved for him to be reaching for my non-existent chest area, since I'm pretty sure he hasn't even noticed it at all, but not in public. Some things are private.

He grinned at me. "Sorry, I just love the feel of your shirt. What is it? Satin-polyester?"

Great. So he wasn't going for my chest in the first place.

"Um, I have no idea."

"Okay, there's one for you. He's walking right this way."

I turned around to see that Michael was right. This guy was smokin'. Brown curly hair, big brown eyes, tall and slightly muscular, and tan. The whole enchilada.

Is it weird that my boyfriend is picking out guys for me?

Or maybe it just means that Michael knows me better than anyone else in the world, and I can live with that.

"You know," I said, poking him playfully in the ribs. "I don't think that guy is right for me, he looks a little like you."

"And that's a bad thing?" he cried, grabbing my hands and pushing me down so he was on top of me, pinning me to my beach towel.

"Well…maybe."

"Oh, really? You know, you didn't seem too perplexed by me before," he said.

"I must have come to my senses. Or maybe I've just forgotten all about you."

"Do I need to remind you?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear down at me.

I nodded and he kissed me.

Our kiss was interrupted by the jingle of his cell phone.

"Hold that thought," he said, nibbling my lip as he stood up.

"Go," he said into the phone, not taking his eyes off me.

I stuck the tip of my tongue out at him in what I hoped was an enticing, get-off-the-phone-and-come-back-to-me kind of way. But obviously it wasn't since he spun around and started whispering as he walked off.

God, I have to stuff things up by trying to be all cutesy, don't I?

About five minutes later he returned, a little red faced and almost nervous.

"Who was it?" I asked, putting down the strawberries I'd been munching on in his absence.

He sat down next to me, but not on top of me like he'd been before. In fact, he was a little father away than he's been in a while.

"No one," he said automatically. "Telemarketer. It was nothing."

"Okay…" I said disbelievingly. "Strawberry?" I held it out to him, but instead of letting me feed it to him like we'd done earlier, he grabbed it out of my hand and shoved it in his mouth.

"Michael, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I told you, it's nothing."

"Well obviously it's not nothing since you're being weird. Come on, you can't keep secrets from me."

I leaned over to kiss him but he pulled back before I could even reach him.

"Look," he said. "I'm actually pretty tired, and I still have that exam to study for. Maybe this whole park thing was a bad idea."

"But the two o'clock Tae Kwon Do class hasn't started up yet? You remember Stevie? We haven't seen him in ages."

He smiled at the memory of the Sunday afternoon instructor. Poor Stuttering Stevie, couldn't control a class of high school kids if his life depended on it.

"I have to go," was all he said in reply.

Without even grabbing his picnic basket and blanket he left, leaving me alone with Lars.

"Do you want me to come over and distract you?" I called out hopelessly.

Either he didn't hear me or he chose to ignore me, he kept walking.

What was all that about? And who was on the phone?

-

I spoke to Tina about Michael's sudden weirdness through IM's later that night.

ILuvRomance: So you don't know who it was on the phone?
FtLouie: He said it was a telemarketer. But why would someone selling air conditioning freak Michael out like that? I just don't get it.
ILuvRomance: Maybe it was Max?
FtLouie! I bet you're right. He IM'ed me last night to say that he wanted my help in getting back with Michael. But I refused to help him. Maybe he's going to try by himself.
ILuvRomance: It makes sense.
FtLouie: I wish it didn't.

My computer beeped and RickyAllTheWay appeared on my buddylist.

FtLouie: Michael just signed in. I'm going to ask him if it was Max on the phone.
ILuvRomance: Be careful. It's a touchy subject and he's already being weird.

Good point. Even so, I double clicked on Michael's name and brought up a conversation screen.

FtLouie: Hey, Michael. How are you?
RickyAllTheWay: I'm fine. Sorry I was a little shitty with you before.
FtLouie: That's okay. Is everything okay now? Anything you want to talk about?
RickyAllTheWay: Everything's fine.

Yeah, like I believe that.

FtLouie: So who was it on the phone before? Was it Max?

There was no response for a good minute. My heart pounded against my chest because it felt like I was doing and saying the wrong things. Then, finally, I got:

RickyAllTheWay: I gotta go. I'll call you later.

RickyAllTheWay has signed off.

WHAT?

Did I do something wrong?

Almost in tears, I brought Tina's conversation back up.

FtLouie: He signed off!
ILuvRomance: What happened? Did you ask him?
FtLouie: I asked and he ignored me, then signed off quickly. I don't get it. Why is he being weird around me? Did I do something wrong? Did he finally notice my complete lack of chest?
ILuvRomance: Uh, Mia, I hate to break it to you, but your lack of chest is probably not of concern to someone who likes them to be flat.
FtLouie: Are you trying to make me feel worse?
ILuvRomance: No, I'm not. Sorry. But just think of the broad spectrum. I dunno, whatever his problem is, I don't think it's you.

Tina's lame ass attempt to cheer me up sure didn't work. I signed off Michael-Fashion, without saying much at all.

Then I curled up in bed and wallowed.