March, 1987
"That was amazing!" Lindsay said as she and Michael walked through Hollywood at night. They'd just left the Simple Minds concert.
"Yeah, it was," Michael agreed.
"What was your favorite song of the night?" she asked him.
"Hmm… 'Waterfront' was really good. And 'Don't You Forget About Me,' of course. What about you?"
"I really liked 'Oh, Jungleland,' actually. I didn't realize how good that one was before. So, how was that for a birthday present?"
"Amazing," he said, smiling at her. God, she loved that smile.
In the last three months she'd become much more comfortable with her feelings for Michael. Once the idea had had time to sink in she'd realized it wasn't hurting anyone as long as she kept it to herself, and as messed up as it was, she felt kind of sexy having such a dirty secret. It was thrilling to fantasize about him kissing her, though she was still a little squeamish about picturing anything more than that. He was her twin brother after all.
She was also having fun flirting with him, dropping little hints about her feelings for him and even once 'accidentally' letting her tank top slip down to reveal the lacy edge of her bra while she was talking to him. She'd felt pretty gross after that, but it had been exciting to see his eyes travel downwards and then snap back up when he realized what he was doing. The best part was that she could tell he was just as crazy about her as she was about him. She doubted he was fully aware of it—she had yet to meet someone as good at lying to himself as Michael was—but she could tell that some part of him knew he was attracted to her and loved all the attention she was giving him.
She still wasn't planning on telling him how she felt, but as time went on it became more and more frustrating that nothing would ever come of this. But she knew she had to accept that. She couldn't imagine it ending in anything but disaster. But for the most part she was content to let things continue the way they were and just enjoy the thrilling sensation of constantly being on the edge.
"Oh my god, look at that dress!" she said, seeing a short black velvet dress in the window of one of the stores they were passing.
"Oh yeah," Michael said distractedly.
"That would be perfect for prom, it's exactly what I've been looking for!" she said. "Come on, I have to go get it."
"Oh, come on, Lindsay," Michael complained.
"It will only take a second!" she insisted, hurrying over to the door.
"Oh, look, it's closed anyway," he said, pointing at the sign.
"Damn," she said. "Okay, but I'm coming back tomorrow. Isn't it perfect?"
"Yeah," Michael said unconvincingly. "Don't you think it's a little short?"
"Short is in, Michael."
"Well, if you want to dress like a hooker I guess that's up to you."
She gaped at him. "Shut up!" she laughed. She flashed him a smile. "Like you don't love it when I wear short dresses."
The smile slid from Michael's face. Lindsay blushed, realizing too late what an inappropriate thing that was to say.
"Uh, what?" he said, laughing nervously.
"Sorry," she said quickly. "So, you liked the concert?"
"Uh, yeah," he said, looking very confused. "Yeah, it was great."
"Great," she said, forcing a smile.
What had she been thinking? Of course, that had been a weird thing for him to say, too. He'd always seemed a little uncomfortable with the way she dressed, probably due to a mixture of jealousy and an inability to ignore his attraction to her when she wore revealing clothes. She kind of liked that, as she loved any kind of evidence that he was attracted to her, too. But pointing it out was not okay, what was wrong with her?
