Author's Note: Schilling's appearance is important. I can't say why, but it is.
And after realizing how long this story is I'm warning all of you now of it's length. Consider yourselves warned. I do not want anyone complaining about it. I had that with the last one.
And thanks to all who reviewed and read. Muchly appreciated
Michael:
I looked at Mia's face turn pale. "Why on earth is he here?" she asked softly, trying not to sound alarmed. She wanted Joyce to believe that she was actually interested in the man that People Magazine deemed Sexiest Delivery Man (aren't they clever? Deliver…pitch…get it?) Polite and distant. That's how she sounded. Intrigued that the President of the United States' son was at the same benefit as she.
"He's pitching tomorrow for the Angels," Joyce said looking at me for a reason for Mia's sudden change in demeanor. "So Larry invited him. Larry is a big supporter of President Davies. I'd love to get an interview with you and Schilling. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you two fell for one another," she said in a motherly tone. "You are both so gorgeous. Both so….what's wrong dear?"
Mia looked at me. "Nothing. Just…not everyday that the president's son is around."
"Can I count on an interview with you later? With him?"
I gave her a glare.
"I-I don't think so. After all, um….last time President Davies went to Genovia my grandmother's dog did some rather obscene things to his ankle," Mia lied. "I don't really think that it would be a good idea."
Yeah, a dog sure did do something obscene. But Schilling was the dog, and he didn't doing something obscene to anyone's ankle.
"Wouldn't it just be so wonderful?" Joyce continued, not catching Mia's uncomfortableness. Mia was always acting weird around reporters. "I mean, if you and Schilling were to…well, get together? A joining of-"
"Joyce," I said in a stern voice, "I think it is kind of inappropriate to be trying to introduce Mia to another man while she has another with her, don't you?"
"But you said that….that…." she said, catching on. She didn't know what she was catching onto, but it was something. Something I'm sure she will be investigating further. And I don't care if she does investigate.
"We better go inside," I said softly, guiding Mia in.
"V-Very nice seeing you again," she said to Joyce in her princessy voice. It was clear, to me, that Mia would be in her Amelia Persona for the evening.
Let me explain this concept. Actually, it's a theory I'm working on. When Mia is mad or upset about something she starts acting cool and aloof. And only speaks to whoever is right next to her. That, tonight, being me.
I call this her Amelia Persona because she makes Lars be near her at all times (and therefore accepts being Princess Amelia). She becomes shut off and closed to the public. And oftentimes, her friends. She gets very serious and thoughtful. Some of her greatest songs have come about from her Amelia Persona.
This was the person her grandmother created. Not the other Mia that I call…well, I call her Trixie. But no one knows that. Trixie is the fun girl I originally fell in love with. The girl that made me fall in love with the whole package; with Mia.
She is funny and crude. She laughs at all my corny jokes. She gets along with all my friends and somehow made them her own as well. She's more comfortable around the guys than anyone else. Girls make her feel…judged.
She knows that I wouldn't dare to judge her, and acts accordingly. She's never nervous or scared.
"We can leave," I whispered when we entered the ball room. Not really a ball room. More like a hall. That high schools would have their proms in.
"No," she said sternly. "No. We'll stay for an hour or two. I'm sure we can avoid him. I mean, it's not like he'll come up to me with open arms." Another thing about Amelia is that she is very stubborn.
"Just let me know when you want to go, okay? We'll make a signal…"
"Like what, smoke signals? I did see some candles," she teased, pretending to look around.
"No more like pulling on your ear or something."
She nodded and looked around the room. "There's Big Papi," she said gesturing to a big guy with the whitest teeth I've ever seen in my entire life. With a woman who looked kind of ….well, kind of something that wouldn't be right for me to say.
"Also known as…"
She gave me a look before being greeted by some big head honcho from the team. I looked around the room. Two days ago I'd be scoping out which girl I'd bring to bed, but I looked to my left and saw Mia beaming at something that guy with a nasally voice said.
"I'm gonna go over to the bar. Do you want a drink?" I asked, leaning into her.
"Oh, uh…coke."
I winked at her and walked away.
"Hey, aren't you from that band, Glass of Water?" a soft voice asked.
I turned and saw that centerfielder that Mia is so fond of. "Oh, yeah. I am."
"What are you doing in Boston? Aren't you a New York band?" he teased.
I shrugged and looked across the room at Mia. "We had a show here last night. Mia asked me to come to this thing with her." That, I could tell, would be my mantra for the evening.
He turned in her direction. "I hear she's a big fan."
"She is. She's a strange girl." I noticed him eyeing her up and down.
"Hot one," he agreed.
I gave him a look, and he laughed as his wife re-joined him. They left and were soon replaced by a woman in a red dress. "Tiffany," she greeted. "I do PR for the Patriots."
"Michael Moscovitz," I replied. I purposely did not give my occupation. I think it is clear.
She continued chatting me up, without end. I tried to be polite and ask the proper questions. Most nights I would be flirting with her and making suggestive comments, but insteadfelt the intense need to get back to Mia and dance with her. "If you'll excuse me," I said after she finished flashing her Super bowl ring (according to her Mr. Kraft, the owner, who is wicked cool gave all full time employees a ring).
"Hey, you look like you are having fun," I said sneaking up behind her and pinching the side of her belly.
"I'm totally in my element. Louie would be so jealous."
"Let's make everyone else jealous," I replied, taking her wrist and pulling her to the dance floor. Hey, might as well take advantage while I know the Trixie part is out.
I held her close while the dulcet sounds of James Taylor (who I am told is the unofficial singer of Massachusetts). "I met Johnny," I whispered.
"Oh lala."
"Aren't you jealous?"
"The man has no taste in women," she replied as we swirled around. "I'll be right back," she said after that song. "I need to freshen up a bit."
"Okay…I gotta use the little boys room."
"I can not believe you just said that," she said with twinkling eyes. "I'll meet you over there in five minutes."
"You got it."
MIA:
"You look beautiful. You are absolutely glowing," a reporter from the Boston Globe gushed.
"Oh, thank you," I said straightening my dress out nervously as I exited the bathroom.
"I hear you showed up with Michael Moscovitz?"
"Yes, yes. We had a show last night and decided to stay in town for this since we had nothing too pressing at home."
She nodded, and then her eyes got wide. I smiled and turned, expecting Michael to be there, but saw someone else.
Some one very different.
Was there.
Someone about five inches taller with blonde wavy hair and clear blue eyes.
In other words, a guy that most girls would die to kiss. And that I would rather die than kiss. "Hello, Schilling."
He bit his lower lip and looked at his feet. "I was looking for you all night," he mumbled.
Lars stepped forward, but I put my hand up to stop him. I had to deal with this. "It's okay."
"But you were with uh…Michael so I didn't want to disturb you while you were on a date-"
"I'm still with him," I snapped.
He looked petrified. I was never like this with him when we were together. I was more of a go with the flow kind of girl. The only time I stood up to him was that New Year's Eve on the phone. When he was a thousand miles away.
"I uh…can we go talk somewhere?"
"We are talking," I replied, staring at his shoulders. Were they always this broad?
"Somewhere quieter. That conference room maybe?"
I looked at Lars, and he followed us to the room.
Lars sat on a couch while I stood with my arms crossed, glaring at Schilling."What do you want Schilling?"
He was pacing. "I…I mean…" he started, unsure about what to say now that I was right in front of him. "I'm sorry."
I nearly choked on my laughter. "That's it? You expect me to do what now? Say it's okay that you tried to rape me? That you called me horrid names? Or that you broke Michael's nose because you were so concerned that he was stealing me?"
Lars looked surprised. He didn't know what had exactly transpired between Schilling and I. He had left me with Schilling that night, expecting us to stay put. He had been put under the impression (by Michael I think) that Schilling and I just had a falling out and that I no longer wanted to be contacted by him.
He sighed, "Mia, it's been killing me. Ever since the next day when I woke up and realized I'd lost you."
"You lost me. A long time ago. And have no-"
"And I keep having these flashbacks of the expression on your face. You were….terrified. You were…you were disgusted by me. IN all my life no one has looked at me like you did—or like you are right now. I've been the fucking Golden Boy. Following in my dad's footsteps. All the other girls I had been with….and have been with since have just given into me. They wanted me more than I wanted them…."
"Is this supposed to make me forgive you? Schilling, I can't even let a guy touch me without cringing. You having flashbacks of my expression is nothing to me. Nothing at all. You were hurt emotionally fine. I was hurt emotionally and physically. I'm the one that was crying all that night. You were too fucked in the head to even realize what you had done. And you expect me to forgive you?"
"No, I'm not expecting you to forgive me. Hell, I'm not asking you to. I just want you to know that I regret it every day of my life. And….and I'm reminded of it every time someone tells me what a great guy I am. Or about my love life in the tabloids."
I had noticed there was a spike of that in the tabs lately. But I had made it a point to ignore it.
"I was voted nicest ballplayer you know. In all the bars girls are hitting on me left and right. I have all these people…." He said, searching for the right word, "Idolizing me when I know deep down they shouldn't. I'm no better than the scum that the police pick up. None of them know me. You are the only person who really knows me." By now he was slouched against the wall with his face in his hands.
I sat next to him. "I knew you once," I started. "I don't know you anymore though. I'm moving on, Schill."
"I know. I can see that you've finally figured it out."
"What did I figure out?"
He gave me a look. He knew
How dare he know… "I don't know what you are talking about."
He shook his head. "Mia, I've never forgiven myself for what I did or said to you. All the flowers I sent you were rejected. All my letters sent back. Mia, I'm not asking for you to take me back. I just…I just want to apologize for how I treated you. You don't deserve it. I just…I hope you can really move on."
I made a face, "You think I can't?"
"I know you can. I just…I hope Michael treats you like you-"
"For your information, Mr. Davies," I snapped, "I'm not with him. He and I are just friends. Like we were when I was with you."
He put his face in his hands, "Mia, it's so frustrating. I was in love with you, despite what I did to you. And it kills me to see you so unhappy. Mia, you need to be with him."
"Don't you tell me what I need. I think you should focus on the subject at hand. Us."
"I'm...sorry. Look, you know I never mention that we dated."
"I know, thanks."
"No, it's not that I'm embarrassed about it. I'm ashamed of how I treated you."
He looked genuinely hurt.
"And I've talked to my doctor about it. He says that neither of us will ever recover if we don't get closure. I- I didn't say your name. I figured you wanted to keep it quiet."
"Free therapy? And I don't have to go? Where do I sign up," I teased. I knew if I didn't let this go we'd be in there all night going around in circles like we already were. He had his long speech, now it was my turn." Look…I got over that night. It took time, but I did. For the most part. But….now every time I look at a guy I'm wondering if he's going to hurt me like you did. In all these years I've only trusted one guy-"
"Michael," he cut off without a hint of bitterness. "He was always coming to your rescue."
I made a face. "But-"
"Mia, I can't take back what I have done. Nor can I make you trust anyone else. But if you can trust him, then go for him. Stop parading around that tool."
"Schill-"
"Mia, we should never have gone out," he said, biting the corner of his lip.
"Huh?"
"We were all wrong for one another. I know you only went out with me because something happened with Michael. I'm not trying to tell you what to do, cuz you always hate when people do that, but it was obvious back then that you were in love with him. And he would never have punched me like he did after what I did with all my friends outside the room unless he loved-"
"He punched you?" I said, laughing.
"Notice how askew my nose is?"
I held back a smile as I looked at his nose. The nose I once loved. It was a bit off.
"I told interviewers a bat broke my nose."
I smirked, "Schill….I can't say I forgive you," I admitted, standing up "But I think I can totally move on now. Let go of all that baggage."
"I'm sorry you had to carry it. If there's ever anything I can do-"
"Yeah. Take it easy on my boys tomorrow."
I gave him a hug as we left the room. "Take care of yourself, kid," he whispered as he let go. "And make sure he treats you right."
I rolled my eyes, "We're just friends."
"Right. For now. I'll see you when we're in New York."
I know what you are thinking. I let him off too easily. I know I wouldn't believe someone acted like this if I read about it. I would be screaming at the girl and telling her she was dumb. Or say that the author was letting the guy off too easily.
But when you are put in the situation where your past is being thrown at you. You are in that situation that you have thought of a million times over the years you are just….tired. Tired of worrying about it. Tired of trying to figure out the right thing to say. You just have to let go. You don't have to love the person who hurt you. You don't even have to like them.
But you do have to move on. And as I watched Schilling get attacked by hanger on's I smiled, then turned and saw Michael. And he didn't look happy. He was glaring at Schilling. So I made my move.
MICHAEL:
I saw her leave a room with that jerk Schilling. He hugged her and whispered something into her ear. You have got to be joking me. I get her and he swoops in? After all he's-
"Hey," she said standing in front of me. "You okay?"
"Fine. What was going on?"
She turned back in his direction, "We just cleared the air. We're okay now."
"You are okay with him?"
"Michael, breathe. You can't hold grudges. Trust me, you have benefited from my forgiving nature many times."
"Let's go back now. I'm getting tired."
We left with our gift bags (which included special edition hats and key chains). "Let's walk," she suggested as the limo pulled up.
"No. In," I said opening the door
"No," she said shutting the door. "I want a nice sweet walk with you."
How am I to resist that?
We walked, unnoticed by the limited crowds. I took a chance and we linked arms. "You look beautiful tonight."
She smiled nervously, "Thanks."
"What's wrong? Did he-"
"He said he knew."
"Knew what?" I asked. "That he is a total jerk?"
"No….well, yeah, but that…well…something…you and me…"
"You know how many questions I evaded tonight?"
"And you said…"
"That we're only friends. That's it."
She looked at me skeptically.
"I think I fooled them."
Her nervous smile disappeared and was replaced with an ear to ear grin.
"Undo me," she said with her back to me when we got back to our room.
I gulped, "Huh?"
"My dress," she giggled.
I unzipped. I never realized how nice the small of a woman's back was. I let my fingers linger for a bit longer than necessary.
"Are you done back there?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Not quite."
