My friends meant the world to me, but I really didn't want to go down to Baja, Mexico, drink 'til I puke, have sex with countless numbers of men, and have to return back home to work a complete slut. But my friends had decided to pull me out of my depressive state and they would do so, even if it means kidnapping me, forcing me to call my work, stating a family emergency and trapping me in Mexico for two weeks. Not that I had anything against Mexico, I just didn't want to be anywhere other than my apartment.
After arriving at the hotel, my friends decided, which I'm sure they planned ahead, a kinky scavenger hunt.
We roamed the streets, starting with the one closest to our hotel. The first house we came to was a small town house. Devy, my best friend since I was three, rang the doorbell.
"God, I feel like I'm sixteen again." I muttered to her. She laughed.
"About time." I glared. The door opened and I saw some one I never thought I'd see again. Michael Scofield stood in the door way in plaid pajama bottoms (which was awkward for this type of heat), and a white tee-shirt. We locked eyes.
"I, um, left something in the room." I stuttered. "I should probably go get it." I made to get away but Beth, a college friend, grabbed my arm.
"No, no, no. You promised us that you wouldn't ruin this week with your 'Life sucks' phase. And I know that the second you get into that hotel room, you are not coming out." Damn; she knew me too well. "Now lighten up before I force alcohol down your throat." She turned to Michael. "Hi, we're having a scavenger hunt and we want to know if you any of the items." His eyes never left me.
"Sure." He opened the door all the way. "Come on in." We filed in and stood in the living room. He sat down on the armrest of his sofa. "What do you need?" Devy looked at the list.
"Whip Cream." He stood up and went to the kitchen. He came back a moment later with a can of Whip Cream.
"Next." He said, tossing Gabby the can.
"Furry handcuffs."
"Sorry, gave those away to the last group of woman." The satire never got old. "What's next?"
I was feeling brave. "An explanation," I said.
"For what?" And he was suppose to be a genius.
"Don't play dumb, Michael. You were they only decent person there, and you left. I had waited so long to find someone I could actually help. But you didn't care, did you?" My friends thought I had finally lost it.
"Sara, you know that's not true." He spoke softly, as if speaking to a child.
"Bull shit! They made me evaluate your apartment, Michael! They made me look through the box you had in your closet! When where you going to tell me I was part of you plan? Huh, Michael!" I shouted. I had forgotten my friends were there. I was finally saying what had been on my mind for five months.
"Sara," Devy's voice was dipped in worry. "Let's go." She grabbed my arm, but I yanked it back, causing her nails to snag an old scar.
"No," I sneered. "Not until I know why he left." His eyes never left mine.
"My brother was going to die because of something he didn't do. I couldn't just do nothing."
"But what about me, Michael. How could you leave me?" Tears were flowing from my eyes, threatening to drown my face.
"I had to."
The next day, I laid in bed. I refused to open the door when my friends came to see if I was okay. They had tried to get me to let them sleep in my room, but I just wanted to be alone. The next night, my friends an I went clubbing. I dragged them from bar to bar, hoping to find someone to help me move on, even if it was just for a night.
A/N: I know it's short. The next one will be longer, promise.