Yay! Only one chapter left, and Michael's story will be finished! I am kind of excited, to be honest, it has been quite a ride.

Basically, after I am done with Michael, I will post the last chapter of Spring Princess, and then I'll continue with January's tale. So that is what you can expect in the near future.

I hope you will like it, and I'll be back within days. Or hours. But let's say days.

More soon, w.

May

(1)

What to get Mia for her birthday was not at all a no-brainer this year. I usually knew right away what a perfect gift for her would be, and I surely could come up with something equally spectacular as in the past. However, I didn't think giving – or, rather, mailing – her a very thoughtful, attentive gift would be a good move this year, given we were broken up.

Honestly, I still wasn't completely sure how things stood between us. On one hand, we were writing long emails to each other, carefully constructed and detailed. However, we weren't writing about each other – excluding a line or two, such as responding to questions about our families or work – but strictly about a topic that was pretty much as impersonal as it could get. First we talked about how climate changes affected weather in Somalia. Now we were writing about bamboo. Honestly, I don't know how we even got to that.

I always made sure my choice of words didn't resonate with the feelings I had for her, and I chose to believe she was similarly careful. If anyone happened to read our correspondence, they would never guess Mia and I used to be together. That's how emotionless our emails were, just long talks between two environmentally-conscious friends.

Still, they were my favorite emails to write. I wouldn't go through all that trouble to find information for anyone but her.

Finally I decided against buying her anything. I also didn't make an animated birthday greeting, like a few times before. All I did this year was writing a paragraph of humorous wishes – at least I hoped they were humorous – and emailed it to her.

She responded with a very eloquent 'thank you', and then went straight back to writing about pandas.

After my short stint in New York, Lilly and I grew closer. I don't think we had been this close ever before and I'd lie if I said I didn't like it.

I called her every evening and we talked about my work, about her show, everything but – what a surprise - never about Mia. I wondered if she knew Boris was the one emailing me occasionally, telling me how Mia was doing.

"Well, I am glad you have fun living out your rocker dreams," Lilly sneered. Then she paused for a moment, as if carefully choosing the proceeding words. "I am sure the girl likes it."

The choice of singular didn't escape me.

"What girl?" I repeated.

"Girl? I said girls, the fans," she corrected herself, but something about it didn't feel right. As if she made a mistake on purpose. We grew up in the same family environment, so if she thought she took after our parents, I lived with them even longer.

"Why don't you just ask me what you want to hear?" I said to her.

"Why do think I want to hear anything specific?" she replied.

"Nothing, just the feeling I got," I swallowed the chuckles. "So you still going out with Kenny?"

"Don't be offended, Michael, but I don't feel like talking about my love life with my brother."

"Even with a brother on the other side of the world?"

"Why would that make any difference?" she sneered.

"Well, for one, I am too far away to embarrass you or anything," I laughed.

I expected her to laugh, but she remained serious.

"You really think I don't remember how there were a couple of months when all you wanted – and all you could think about – was how badly you wanted to cause a lot of pain either to Kenny or to his computer?" she said.

He would have deserved it, though. I had spent so much time bonding with Mia, hinting her how I felt – not that she got the message -, and then he just appeared out of nowhere, snatching her right in front of me.

"Actually, to correct you, dear sis, there was something I wanted more than that."

"Yeah, the thing Kenny beat you to it," Lilly snorted. "Which, I still say, was your own fault, so I resent you if you happen to dislike my boyfriend solely on that principle."

"Well, I never thought you'd end up with him, that's all," I said. A tall, scrawny, easy to boss around Kenny really didn't seem like an ideal boyfriend for my ferocious, opinionated little sister. But then again, which of her boyfriends did? Boris, the delicate musician, the wanna poet, or perhaps a busboy that spoke barely any English? I keep fearing what's next on the list. Under right circumstances, I don't think you could rule any potential boyfriend out when it came to Lilly,

"Life has its own mysterious ways. Just like film industry. By the way, how come you are not excited for my pilot being picked up in Korea?"

Mainly because it's on the third channel in Korea, I wanted to say, but refrained myself just in time.

"I'm sorry if I don't sound excited, as I am. It's just that I'm tired. Working late, you know."

"You do know that that statement needs clarifying before it awakes compassion in me, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Long hours in the lab are not the same as long hours in the bar, Michael."

"I work enough long hours in the lab that I'll get to have ten days off in July," I told her.

"Ten days? That means you'll actually spend a day at home this time, without running off to whomever you wanted to see more badly than your own family?"

"Is mom still upset about that?"

"Yeah. And did you say July? Please don't tell me that will overlap with her yearly golf tournament in Albany?"

My silence was the answer I chose.

"Well, anyway," she sighed, "you are planning on coming alone, right?"

"Alone? Why wouldn't I come alone?"

"No reason. It's just that … You know. You have been in Japan for a while now."

"Lilly, I am here to work in the robotic arm, not go out on dates," I said. Of course, it wasn't work stopping me from going out with women, but I didn't think it was the right time yet to mention it to anyone.

"Yeah, but I don't think having a rock band or attending cooking class has much to do with the cardio device either," she pointed out.

"Lilly, that's for clearing my head. To have some fun besides work," I said.

"People watch bad TV to relax, not jam out on stage till three in the morning," she argued. "And you and Judith did have fun together, so I'm sorry because I would like to double-check."

"What does Judith have to do with anything?"

I swear, sometimes I don't know in which universe Lilly's head is in.

"Nothing. I am just saying there are plenty of ways to have fun."

"I'm not sleeping with anyone here, if that's what you want to know." This time words escaped me before I could think them over. I thought back to the start of our conversation, and I remembered her use of a 'girl'. I swore under my breath. She was good, I had to give her that.

I could hear satisfaction in her voice.

"I am not at all interested in that, and I feel that your need to say that out loud says a lot about the current state of your libido," she said.

Obviously there was no proper response to that.

"But I do feel obligated to remind you, Michael, that in the event you do let your inner wild mustang roam around free like it should at your age, you better use protection. I remember people in your dorm at Columbia being quite carefree, and I fear to think about how things get when people from all over the world gather under the pretense of gaining cultural experiences."

"Is there any further point to this conversation or can I be relieved and hang up?"

"Don't get all snappy at me, Michael, because I want to give you good advice. Maybe if you listened to me more often, we wouldn't even be in this mess."

"What mess?"

Now she was the one swearing under breath.

"I meant Kenny," she hurried, clearly lying. "Now can you please give me your address?"

"What would you need my address for? Are you planning on stopping by?"

"No. I am going on a little road trip with Kenny over the weekend, and I figured I'd send you a postcard."

"Road trip? Where are you two lovebirds going?"

"Rehoboth Beach. Kenny won coupons for this grill bar, and we figured we go to clear out heads a bit before the finals. Of course in Kenny's world, that means bringing the books with us and studying while on the beach, but whatever. So, the address?"

"You don't have to send me a postcard, Lil."

"I do a lot of things I don't have to on daily bases, Michael. Such as fighting with Gretchen Weinberger about her over-use of a word actually in her newspaper reports. I should have her butt fired a long time ago, but I don't because I am kind. Besides, picking out postcards will be an effective way of stopping me from breaking Kenny's nose when he'll be more interested in chemical substances than my new bikini."

"Alright, have you got a pen?"

"Puh-lease, Michael, I am a professional. "

I spelled her the address, and like a true professional, she double checked that she got it right.

"Say hi to mom and dad," I told her as we were saying our goodbyes.

"Sure. And remember – keep the groupies close, but the protection closer."

Ten days passed, and the promised postcard didn't show up in my mailbox. I wasn't surprised, nor disappointed. My sister never was an epitome of care anyway.

Then a few days later, I got her text, explaining Kenny had gotten stomach flu, thus they were forced to stay home. The number of exclamation marks made me frown, but I still didn't suspect anything.

Honestly, I didn't suspect a thing until the early days of June.

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.