October
"What are you doing tonight?" asked Michaela, flipping the combination on her locker and yanking open the perpetually stiff door, "my cast's coming off this afternoon and I thought we could celebrate by carving an army of pumpkins. Dad's convinced he's the best and I think it's time we bring him down. Team effort."
"Earth to Sully," she giggled, as Sully continued to lean mutely against the lockers, arms crossed and eyes down cast, "do you read me?"
"Are you ok?" she probed worriedly when he didn't respond to her ribbing and simply moved aside as she made to thump her locker shut.
Sully nodded once in response to her query and shuffled down the corridor towards his own locker. Michaela regarded him curiously for a moment before an evil grin spread across her face. Knowing a sure fire way to get a response out of him, she snuck up behind him and snatched his baseball cap off his head.
"Mine," she laughed, waving it mockingly in front of him.
"Hey!" exclaimed Sully, instantly reaching out to snatch it back.
Michaela froze, her mouth a perfect "O" of shock. The colour in Sully's cheeks instantly rose and he dropped his hand, suddenly intensely embarrassed. For a long minute during which Michaela stared at Sully and Sully stared determinedly at the floor, neither spoke. Michaela's cheeks steadily reddened though for a very different reason and suddenly she couldn't hold out any longer.
"Your voice," she choked out before cracking up.
Scowling, Sully watched her collapse back against the lockers, clutching at her sides as she laughed before turning determinedly to the darkened innards of his locker. He had sorted out his books and started re-packing his bag when she finally calmed down enough to approach him, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming in light gasps.
"Sorry," she offered, the mirth still dancing her eyes, "it's just, you sound so odd, I couldn't help it."
"Sure," croaked Sully, rolling his eyes moodily and slamming his locker shut.
"Really, Sully," continued Michaela, shifting her books in her arms, "you could have just said. It's not like it's a big deal."
"What?!" asked Sully, stunned.
"Well," said Michaela, biting on her lip to keep from laughing, "I think it'd be pretty weird hanging out with a guy who looks sixteen and still sounds like a girl."
"Shut up," growled Sully, swinging his back pack onto his back and striding off down the corridor.
Michaela laughed openly at his retreating back before heading off in the opposite direction to her first class.
"Hey, Michaela."
Michaela, who had been concentrating on singly handedly shoving all her textbooks back into her bag, visibly jumped.
"Oh, hey, Will," she said as she recognised the dark haired boy who sat a few seats across from her, "what's up?"
"Well, I'm having a bit of trouble with some of the algebra problems," he began, fidgeting nervously with the strap of his book bag, "I was wondering if you could come over tonight and help me out?"
"I can't tonight," replied Michaela with an apologetic smile, "I'm being sawn apart."
"What?" gasped Will but Michaela just giggled and raised her plaster cast.
"Oh, right. Well, how about tomorrow? Maybe we could get a pizza or something after?"
"Sure," agreed Michaela easily, "I've got class in the morning but I'll bring my books over straight after. Is 2 ok?"
"Perfect," replied Will, a broad smile spreading across his face, "see you then."
"Where have you been?" grumbled Sully when Michaela finally emerged from the herd of rowdy students.
"I was making plans to study with a friend," she offered, swiftly unlocking her locker and shoving her books inside.
"Which friend?" asked Sully, instantly suspicious.
"Um, Will, from my math class," replied Michaela, frowning at her algebra textbook for a moment as though deciding whether to take it home or not before deciding it wasn't worth breaking her bag over and shoving it back into her locker.
"He's having some trouble with this new algebra stuff and asked me over to help out."
"And I know we were supposed to go to that movie tomorrow," she added, slamming her locker shut and turning around to face him, "but maybe we could go Sunday instead?"
"So, it's like a date?" queried Sully, who had clearly filtered out a large amount of what Michaela had just told him and was now staring at her through narrowed eyes.
"No," said Michaela firmly, "I'm just helping out a friend for a few hours, that's all."
"Michaela, he asked you over to his house," persisted Sully, folding his arms across his chest, "if he just wanted help, why not meet in the library?"
"Well," frowned Michaela, "I guess because…"
"Because it's a date," interjected Sully.
"It is not a date," snapped Michaela, "so back off, Frog Prince."
And with that, she swung her bag onto her back and stalked off towards the bus stop leaving a very smug Sully to follow in her wake.
"So," asked Sully, not looking up from the sheets of music he was perusing, "what'd she say?"
"She said it's a date," conceded Michaela miserably, throwing the phone onto the bed and slumped down onto the floor. Sully had continued to plague her with comments about her forthcoming study session all the way home until out of sheer annoyance and determination to prove him wrong, she had decided to call Becky and get her opinion. Her sister's answer when she had stopped laughing had not been what she had been expecting.
"I can't believe it," moaned Michaela in response to Sully's quiet "Told ya so."
"Someone finally asks me out and I don't even realise it."
"To be fair," offered Sully, "I don't think you missed much."
"Oh shut up," muttered Michaela, dropping her head into her hands, "like you're such a Casanova."
Scowling as Sully just laughed good naturedly, she heaved herself off the floor and padded over to the closet.
"Hey, that doesn't sound half bad," she said after a moment as a perfect symphony of notes filled her room.
"Mmmm" was Sully's articulate response; he was already furiously jotting down the chord. Michaela rolled her eyes and cast her attention to the darkened shelves. Ever since she had presented Sully with the brand new Fender, a birthday gift from the Cooper-Quinn clan, he had spent every waking moment reading, writing and practising. After one memorable English class when Sully had zoned out and then promptly blurted out that Cleopatra's famous lover was in fact Allegro, Michaela had joked that he even dreamed in music.
"So," she asked several minutes later as she emerged from behind the painted screen she'd forced Joseph to buy from a flea market in Denver, "what d'you think?"
"Huh?" offered Sully confusedly, looking up reluctantly from his beloved guitar strings.
"For tomorrow," explained Michaela, a light blush colouring her cheeks as she plucked nervously at the denim skirt she'd chosen.
"I thought it wasn't a date," challenged Sully, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.
"It's not," retorted Michaela acidly, "but all your stupid comments have made me all nervous now. I don't want to give him the wrong idea."
"Sure," chuckled Sully, "cos that skirt yells study group."
"Fine," snapped Michaela, disappearing behind the screen again before Sully could see how hurt she was, "forget I asked."
"Calm down," laughed Sully, "I'm just kidding. Why don't you quit trying so hard? Just wear your jeans."
"Really?" queried Michaela, peering out worriedly from behind the screen.
"Sure," assured Sully, frowning at a particularly complicated composition, "guys don't really notice what girls wear anyway. We just pretend to."
"Ok," giggled Michaela, "then I guess I'll just wear this."
Sully glanced up and his eyes widened. She had chosen her favourite black top, the one with the Green Day lyrics scrawled across the front. He'd seen her wear it a thousand times but he didn't remember it ever looking quite like this. Months of dancing had transformed Michaela's boyish, gangly frame into a slender and elegant one. She held herself taller and over the summer, her body had filled out, turning her awkward angles into curves. Curves that the top she'd picked were now accentuating perfectly.
"Umm," he began, suddenly embarrassed, "I don't think you should wear that."
"Why?" asked Michaela, moving to the mirror and staring at her reflection in confusion, "it looks fine."
"So," she continued in a low voice, scooping her hair up into its habitual, business like pony tail, "hair up or down?"
"Definitely up," commented Sully curtly before bending hastily over the desk so she couldn't see his scowl. No longer seeing the sheets before him, he growled quietly, "We wouldn't want to give him the wrong idea."
"I hate boys," snapped Michaela, slamming the front door.
"Hey!" protested Joseph in mock indignation, "what did we do wrong now?"
"I take it the study session went well then," he added with a grin as Michaela flung herself into an armchair. Michaela scowled malignantly.
"Is it actually impossible for you to focus for more than five seconds on anything that isn't about dating or food?"
"He's a teenage boy, Mike," laughed Joseph, "what did you expect? Political debates?"
"Very funny," replied Michaela acidly. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to fall for his lie. Algebra my ass. Well, I won't be making that mistake again."
"Language, Mike," reproved Joseph with a slight frown, before casting a sympathetic glance at his fuming daughter. "I know you're upset, but don't be too quick to judge everyone because of the actions of one immature boy."
"Sully was right," continued Michaela grudgingly, "I should have listened to him."
"You were just trying to help out a friend," replied Joseph reasonably, "you couldn't have known he'd misinterpret that."
"Well I doubt he'll be trying to kiss me again any time soon," muttered Michaela darkly before heaving herself out of her chair and heading towards the stairs, "I'm going to study."
"Mike, what did you do?" queried Joseph, suddenly worried.
"Nothing," stated Michaela before adding in a low undertone, "much."