The Great Escape
AN. Thank you to Cena-Wilson-Crazy, ShadeDt, Tiffyxox, Grits0205, xTwistedxImperfectionx, BigRedMachineUK, xHalosandwings, John Cena's Field Hockey Star, RKO.I.F, anonymous & TJ Sparkles for reviewing the last chapter.
Thanks very muchly :)
Chapter Twenty-Nine – I Miss You
MICKIE
Mickie woke abruptly, her body slumped into the corner and the side of her face cold from where it had been pressed against the cool glass of the train window. A yawn spilled through her lips and she unsuccessfully tried to cover it with her hand, all the while drinking in the familiar surroundings from her seat; she was still obviously on the transport, but the train had stopped moving now and, in fact, was opening its doors with a swoosh to allow passengers off.
The brunette swept back her tangled, wavy curls as she stood and stretched out, taking her time as to allow other people to move past her and get out faster. Though there was an underlying excitement in her for being home, she was in no hurry to move on just yet—she wanted to enjoy this moment.
When she was able to gather her things from the compartment near the exit, the aisle finally clearing of excited home-bound people such as herself, she allowed herself to think about the nap she'd taken for the long journey home. Could a ten-hour sleep be considered a nap? Either way, she felt wonderfully refreshed as she stepped off of the train, dragging her case behind her. She hadn't slept well, all problems considering, for a long time now.
The brief difficulty of thinking about said problems was all wiped away when she looked up and caught a glimpse of her parents. The brightest smile lit up her face, as it did theirs, and she ran towards them in a child-like state, eager to get to them as soon as possible. A giggle spilled through her parted lips as they both engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug, her petite frame lost in the middle of the two adults.
When she was finally released, she saw the tears in her mother's eyes. "You have no idea how much we've missed you, sweetie. And look at you! You look very college-y."
"I'm not sure that's a word, Mom, but thanks." She turned to her Dad, who still had yet to tone down his grin. "And you look chipper. Did you finally clear out the garage like Mom asked you to?"
"Oh no, that's still on the list of things to do, now that I remember." He gave a mock "Yikes!" expression, to which his wife responded by nudging him on the arm playfully. "I'm just so happy my baby girl is back for Christmas. We didn't know if we'd get you back, especially after you told us about all the school work stressing you out."
"All the more reason for me to come back here for break." She told him, muttering a brief thanks when he took her case as they started walking to the exit, towards the car park. "I can't think of a better way to spend two weeks, to be honest."
Well she could, but she held back those depressing thoughts. She'd liked to have spent them happy, perhaps with the knowledge that Punk was her boyfriend and Ashley was still her best friend. But that clearly wasn't going to happen.
"Anyway," she moved on defiantly, "Where's Ryan—let me guess, at home playing on his Xbox?"
"Your brother is waiting in the car," said her mother with a knowing smile, as if to acknowledge how sweet the gesture was. "He finally passed his test so he's taken to driving us everywhere. Oh, but we don't expect that to last forever. He'll go back to being selfish and arrogant any day now."
"I'll expect nothing less of him."
Idle conversation was made between the trio until they reached the car—unfamiliar to Mickie's eyes on account of it being new—and she and her brother were forced to acknowledge each other. Their parents watched on in amusement as they shrugged at one another, refusing to hug out of pride and on the false account of "hating each other" as siblings should. It was a quick few minutes later that the case was in the trunk and they were travelling back down the familiar route to the house.
A surge of excitement spread through Mickie as she half-focused on her surroundings, half-explained to everyone how she was doing in college. There was nothing to be said about her personal relationships, just work. She took pride in being one of the smartest students in her classes and it was nice to talk to someone else about her achievements.
By the time Ryan pulled into the driveway, it was half an hour later. She was comforted to know the house still looked the same; the door leading to the backyard still looked in need of oiling, the front garden was still dehydrated of flowers, and the front door still needed a paint job. These imperfect things only made her smile even more.
Her brother seemed to act the gentleman as he brought her heavy case inside, but then dropped it in the hallway and raced up the stairs, only stopping at the top to shout down at her, "You better be ready for the next music challenge, 'cause I've already got you beat, Micks!"
She rolled her eyes playfully, turning into her mother's laugh. There was no need to say what didn't need to be said—Ryan had missed having his little sister around. And she couldn't exactly say she didn't miss their encounters either, because she had.
"So come on in here and have a chat with us, Mickie." Her father beamed at her, beckoning her into the kitchen. It was only a couple of minutes later that they were all sat around the table with mugs of hot tea and biscuits. "So how's college life? What's been going on?"
She immediately delved in. "Oh, it's been great so far! I'm finding out so much more than I ever did in school—and the teachers actually respect me here! Or at least they make it seem like our opinions actually matter. I'm also really good with debates; I've won at least four of my last five, I think..."
"We meant with you, personally. What's going on with you?"
There was a moment of silence in which the young adult looked into the hopeful faces of her parents. She couldn't tell them about her problems, could she? There were two too many and she didn't want to burden them with dramatic stories of how hard she was really finding college life.
"Everything is great!" Her tone was a little too forced. Her Dad nodded obliviously, but her Mom saw right through it. "I mean, the girls' are great, too! Maria and Eve are having loads of fun together...and you know Ash. Ash is...being stubborn as usual, haha."
The nervous chuckle towards the end of her sentence gave the final warning signal, and her father was soon packed off to the living room—with a small grunt of "Huh, why do I have to go?"—so the two women of the house could have a little heart-to-heart, just like the good old days.
"What's really going on, sweetie?"
Her face crumpled up with defeat not a moment later. Her mother was by her side quickly, sliding into the chair next to hers and pressing her daughter's head against her chest. She ran her fingers through her hair soothingly while she waited for the sobs to settle and an explanation to be given.
"I lost my best friend, Mom. We...we had an argument, a really serious one about the incident, and we haven't talked since. I don't think she'll ever forgive me. And...also..." She sniffed, feeling childish in herself for still needing these kinds of talks. Comforted, too. "There's this guy."
She could feel a smile against her forehead. "Ah, the ever-mysterious guy. I was waiting for this one."
"His name's Phil, but everyone calls him Punk. When I first met him I was super shy and I think that was, like, super funny to everyone..." She paused for a moment, absorbing the soft chuckle sent her way. She knew when she was upset she sounded slightly dumb in her verbal language; she would have laughed at herself if she wasn't so busy pouring her heart out. "And Mum, he's so beautiful. Like, I found myself falling in love with him...but I don't know if it is love, because I've never felt anything like it before. And then we...we kinda went out, but I got too scared and I split up with him..."
"And now?"
Her face crumpled again. "I miss him more than anything. I really, really want him back. I miss everything about him—his smile, his laugh, his hair. Oh God, his hair! Stop laughing at me, Mom, I'm serious! And is that really weird?"
"Your obsession with his hair?" She joked, only for her daughter to sit upright in her seat and shoot her a mock glare. "No, Mickie, it's not. You sound like a girl in love for the first time. So, why don't you call him now—tell him how you feel?"
"It's not as simple as that." She answered with a tiny shrug. "For a start, I don't think he'd even pick up the phone if I called. He hates me right now."
"You shouldn't pout; it's unattractive. And I'm sure that's not true, sweetie. He's hurt, you're hurt. That doesn't mean you don't like one another still."
"Maybe." Suddenly she was really tired. Lifting herself to her feet, she offered a smile. "Thanks, Mom. I'm gonna head to my room for a little while."
"Okay. Dinner's at six."
Mickie simply nodded and trudged up the stairs, quite looking forward to collapsing on her comfortable bed for a little time alone. She was in no way tired, thanks to her zoning out on the train earlier, but she was fairly relieved to see the king-size object in all its glory. She missed sleeping like a Queen; the dorms were certainly different to home.
She fell backwards onto her bed, bouncing lightly before she came to a stop, her eyes roaming around her room. Everything looked the same. And she felt so very different in herself, as a person especially. This room belonged to the high-school Mickie James, not the new problematic one.
Still, she wiped away the last of her tears and rolled onto her side, relaxing completely. The faintest of smiles graced her features as she remembered, and once again heard, the thump of loud techno music coming from her brother's room just down the hall. Home sweet home.
Yet the pain of being so far away from Punk—both emotionally and physically—unsettled her, and she curled up in the tightest ball she could, scrunching her eyes shut and wishing, once again, for the memory of him to fade away. She already knew it wouldn't.
The following day was better for Mickie's state of mind, and she found herself happily re-connecting with her best friends over at Eve's house. She, Maria and Eve all sat in a circle on the floor of the latter's bedroom, reminiscing over certain memories and giving themselves reasons to smile for being back here.
There was only one person missing.
"I hate to say it, but Ashley not being here to hover over us like some sort of depressing fun-eater is just plain weird." Eve shrugged, pressing her palms against the pink carpet as she leaned back. She looked between the two. "Don't you think so?"
"Definitely." She sighed, taking in Maria's disappointed expression. "And I think I'm having dinner with Ash's parents sometime in the next week—I really don't want to explain how their daughter's doing, especially when she won't return their calls."
"Yeah, I don't like how she's cutting herself off from everybody. I know she wants to move on from the past, and I don't blame her for that obviously, but I don't think this is the way to do it. I feel so sorry for her."
An awkward silence engulfed them all as they took a moment to think about the blonde of the group. She would certainly be the missing piece of an otherwise wonderful Christmas back home. It just wasn't the same with three girls instead of four; the balance was totally off.
Deciding to move on a couple of minutes later, the redhead offered a smile. "Still, it's good to be back—she's definitely missing out. Oh, I ran into Dolph yesterday when I was getting milk from the store. Now I know why you guys kept telling me he was bad news; he's repulsive!"
"You know we told you that for the seven months you spent dating him in junior year." Eve rolled her eyes towards her best friend, though a playful smirk touched her glossed lips. "Weren't so willing to listen to us then, were you?"
An innocent gasp was emitted. "I was blinded by his hotness, thank you very much!"
"Whatever. That boy was no good, but at least you know it now."
Maria gave a triumphant nod. She knew, however, that her view on people of the opposite sex wasn't any less confusing now that she was in college. It was obvious that Randy Orton was a major part of her life now and she wasn't willing to let him go.
"Speaking of exes, what about you and Matt? Have you seen him yet?"
The brunette shook her head and instinctively glanced over to the picture frame on her bedside table; inside the gold frame was a picture of her and Matt, arms wrapped around each other as they stared into the camera. She remembered that day perfectly—they were both happy and so in love with each other. Just as it should be now.
Mickie spotted the look and held her tongue out of respect. At least she wasn't the only one with guy troubles. Though, on today of all days, she seemed to be doing quite well. Punk hadn't entered her mind—well, not at least until now—and a cheerful text from Ted this morning, in which he told her to have a good holiday, had put a nice smile on her face anyway.
"Whatever." The ex-cheerleader shook her head, taking her gaze away from the picture to place it back onto her friends. A smile lit up her face. "I'm planning on making the most of this time. I've already got a night planned out with Jess and Meg, the twins, at the weekend. It's gonna be so great, like old times."
"Yeah, I can just imagine the three of you performing a few drunk cheers while you're there." Maria stuck her tongue out playfully. "It's what you always used to do on a Saturday night. Then there was me, who had to take you home."
"But you always got confused as to where you were, and me and Ash had to drive around in order to find you." Mickie laughed, and the others joined in. There were so many happy memories here, it was a pity they had to leave again. "Good times," she mumbled appreciatively.
The trio fell into routine conversation once more after that, reminding themselves of good-times-gone-bad and hilariously bad fashion mistakes made in the first year of high school, when they were all trying to impress the higher-ups. So many memories, so little time to discuss them in.
Mickie received a phone call just twenty minutes into a particularly amusing story, and excused herself from the room to answer it. She'd barely pressed the device to her ear, a grin on her face, when her mind finally processed the caller ID her eyes had briefly flickered across. Words lost her completely. "...Erm..."
"Good. So you know it's me." Phil's voice was smooth down the other end of the line. He almost made it sound like he was smiling, and she imagined his pierced lip curved perfectly. The thought alone... "I think it's time we talked, don't you, Mickie James?"
Illiterately, she uttered, "But...but you hate me."
He didn't answer this, dismissing it. "Where are you?" He asked instead, specifically.
"I'm at Eve's house." She managed to answer, her curiosity overruling her heart's flutter for once. "Why are you asking? Are you in Chicago somewhere then?"
"Actually, I'm standing outside an unfamiliar door, asking some guy named Ryan where his little sister might be. My things are definitely in Chicago, just not me."
She could have sworn her heart was failing. As soon as the words were uttered out of his mouth, they floated through her mind, spelling it out for a second time in her thoughts. Was he speaking the truth? He couldn't possibly...couldn't possibly be at her house, right?
"Are you serious right now?"
"More serious than I've ever been, Mickie." His voice was suddenly just that. "And I'm waiting for you."
She hung up immediately. It occurred to her, as she hurriedly said a goodbye to the perplexed faces of Eve and Maria, that he could have taken the sudden cut-off as offensive. But this only made her hurry even faster to get back to her house; she almost speeded through two red lights in order to make it there.
She had no idea what she was running into, but she knew who she was running to.
It was almost too good to be true. Phil wasn't messing with her though, and she found him standing by the gate when she arrived, completely alone. His smirk caught her attention as she slipped out of the car, slamming the door a little too harshly in obvious surprise.
"But what are you..." The question went unfinished as she stopped before him.
"I've decided that all this crap between us is pointless." He waited a moment as she simply stared at him. Predictably, of course. "And," he lowered his voice, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him, irregardless of the gate in-between them, "If you're already scared of being with me, then I see no harm in making you feel absolutely petrified."
He already had her. She knew that neither he or she had to explain a thing; it was just perfectly obvious, at least to her, that everything in the past was meant to be there.
And it felt just so wonderfully right to press her lips against his, and savour the taste of Punk once again.
So there's the next chapter. Please review :)
Up next is the girls' chapter.