Carolyn: Max.......you jerk.......why don't you leave Maria, Dylan and Michael alone?
Max is an addict . . . and right now, he's addicted to the idea of causing problems for Michael and Maria. It's all fueled by his anger, but is it more of an anger towards them, or towards himself?
Now I am really worried for Liz. She had accepted that he was complicated with a complicated past, but now I wonder about his reactions to Liz's news.
Liz's whole world has changed very dramatically within the past few days. Poor girl.
Sara: I can't believe Maria let Max take a foot inside that house and then didn't see him OUT the door when she did. Rookie mistake Maria....
She thought she'd put him in his place, and for a moment, it seemed like she had. But . . . by taking her ring, Max found a way to have the last word without actually saying anything.
and Liz..PREGNANT!! OMG!! I have to be honest, I didn't see that one coming at all!
Cool, I'm glad I could surprise you then!
It will be interesting to see how this all plays out!
I hope so! We are definitely getting closer to the end here.
Eva: Liz's being pregnant can turn this story as nothing before. 'Cause it's true what Isabel's thing: Max is unpredictable but his reactions on this news will change everything. That's the only for sure at this moment.
This is a huge turning point for Liz, but probably an even bigger turning point for Max. Potentially. This news is going to have a major effect on him.
Like always he acted like a jerk but somehow I was glad it was only her ring he took. As sad as that is, I was imagining far worse things.
Yeah, I guess it could have been worse. But this is still going to be pretty heartbreaking for Maria.
Thanks for reading and leaving feedback! I appreciate it a lot!
I'm making another music suggestion today: "Light Through the Branches" by Celeste Lear, which I think is one of the prettiest songs I've ever heard in my life. It's short but so beautiful. Give it a listen when you see if you'd like.
Part 79
Michael literally felt exhausted when he got home that night. Even though helping Kyle set up for Tess’s proposal tomorrow hadn’t involved any heavy lifting, it had been absolutely painstaking trying to get it exactly right. Every time he’d thought they were done, Kyle would notice something that wasn’t quite right, and they’d have to fix it. It had been more mentally tiring than anything, and mental workouts always drained Michael more than physical ones. Add in the fact that he never had gotten to go lie down in the nurse’s station today, and he felt like he could crash out any second.
When he walked in the door, though, it was clear that rest and relaxation would not be a possibility tonight. Tina practically ambushed him, looking hysterical. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed. “Thank God you’re here.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Maria dropped her ring down the sink!”
“What?” Before he even had time to comprehend that, his mom came out of the garage carrying a crusty pipe wrench and multi-grips.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” she said, handing him the tools. “Maybe you can fix this. I was gonna try myself, but that’s probably not a good idea.”
“Where’s Maria?” he asked.
“She’s upstairs.”
He went up to his bedroom, sure that he was going to find his girlfriend in a state of misery. And indeed, he did. She was sitting on the floor, hunched over the bed, sobbing hysterically.
“Hey,” he said, setting the tools down on his desk. “You alright?”
“No,” she whimpered, not even looking at him.
He sat down beside her, rubbing her back. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she cried. “I lost my
engagement ring, Michael. Who does that?”
“Uh, a lot of people.” Hell, half the romantic comedies ever made involved a scene where the dude plumbered up and retrieved his girl’s ring for her. Which was exactly what he hoped to be able to do.
“But how could I let this happen?” she fretted. “I mean, I don’t even understand . . .”
“Did you see it go down?” he asked.
“No. But I set it down on the sink when I got in the shower, and I
thought I set it down far enough away, but apparently not. Or . . . I don’t know, maybe I accidentally knocked it in the sink when I was brushing my teeth. All I know is, when I was ready to put it back on, it wasn’t there.” Her eyes welled up with fresh tears, most of which bubbled over without resistance. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, you don’t have to apologize,” he said.
“But you spent so much money on it--”
“I didn’t spend that much money,” he lied. Luckily he’d been able to talk the seller down to something below the thousand dollar mark. But just barely.
“You spent more than you should’ve,” she kept on, “and it was so nice, and it fit so perfectly, and now I just lost it! God, I’m so stupid. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you. This happens all the time,” he assured her. He didn’t want to freak out, because that would just make this worse for her. But inside, he
was panicking a little bit. He couldn’t afford another ring like this. Shit, he couldn’t even afford
this ring. They really needed to get it back.
“Come on,” he stood up and held out his hand.
She gave him a confused look. “What?”
“We’re gonna go see if we can get it back. It’s probably still stuck down there.”
She shook her head, taking his hand and letting him help her up anyway. “I don’t think so. I already put a wire hanger down the sink. I didn’t get anything.”
“It’s probably down too low,” he speculated, though he really had no idea. Pipes, plumbing . . . complete unknown to him. But he was willing to give it a shot. He picked up the pipe wrench again and said, “Come on.”
Wiping tears from her cheeks, she followed him into the bathroom, where Tina was standing over the sink, bending down so she could peer closer at the drain.
“Don’t turn the water on,” he cautioned. Didn’t take a plumbing genius to know that the best chance of getting this ring back was to
not wash it down any further.
“I won’t,” she said.
“See, I set it right here,” Maria said, touching an empty spot on the sink. Indeed, it was a good two to three inches away from the edge, so her conclusion about accidentally knocking it in while brushing her teeth was more than likely accurate.
“Okay,” he said, “Teenie, will you go get me a bucket or a pan or something?”
“Sure.” She scampered out of the bathroom and downstairs.
“Is it gonna get gross?” Maria asked.
“Yeah, most likely. You ever cleaned hair out of a sink or a shower drain?”
She made a face of disgust. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He got down on his hands and knees and pulled open the lower cabinets, taking out all the towels they kept stashed there.
“Do you think I knocked it in?” she asked, her voice hoarse from all the crying.
“Uh . . . yeah, probably.”
She grunted sadly. “Like an idiot.”
“Would you stop sayin’ that?” He surveyed the pipes, trying to figure out if he knew anything about this. The pipe was bent in a U-shape. He’d seen enough movies to know that you had to take part of it out, unscrew it and hope to God the ring was still in there.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked.
“Not really,” he confessed.
“Would your dad know?”
“Maybe. Is he home?”
She shook her head.
Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait. These days, his dad could be gone for days at a time.
When Tina came back, she brought one of their largest baking pans with her. “Will this work?” she asked.
“Yeah, thanks.” He positioned the pan under the curved pipe, slid his torso a bit further underneath the sink, and tried to fit the wrench onto the nuts keeping the thing connected. It might have been an adjustable wrench at one time, but nowadays, it was just too old to get any tighter. He tossed it aside, figuring he wouldn’t need it anyway. These were just plastic nuts. He could unscrew them by hand.
“Do you really think it’s still in there?” Maria asked doubtfully, squatting beside him.
“Yeah,” he said, focusing on what he was doing so he didn’t screw it up. “Has to be.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Max sat in the dark in his bedroom that evening—except, was it really
his room, or was it still technically the guest room? No, nothing was his anymore. If that room were his, he would have gotten rid of the whole floral motif a long time ago. He didn’t want anyone to know he was home, even though he was pretty sure no one else was home, either. So he kept the lights off. Plus, it felt good to be in the dark. Natural.
He twirled Maria’s ring around in between his fingers, examining it from every angle. It wasn’t heavy, and it wasn’t big, but it wasn’t a piece of junk, either. In fact, upon closer inspection, it was actually nicer than he’d originally perceived. The diamond, though it was small, was real. That much was obvious.
It had to be worth something. At least five-hundred dollars, maybe even seven-hundred or eight.
Max grinned mischievously as his mind conjured up his next move. As fun as it was to sit here with Maria’s engagement ring in hand, wouldn’t it be a hell of a lot better to be sitting there with money? Or better yet, spending it?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After no luck taking apart the pipes on his own, Michael broke down and called a plumber. Unfortunately, the only one who agreed to come that night was one who went by the jovial nickname “Dan the Man.” The nickname didn’t match the service, though. Dan was a grump, and judging by the slew of swears leaving his mouth, he wasn’t having much luck.
Michael eventually left him alone and went downstairs to check up on Maria. She was sitting at the kitchen table with the pan of gunk in front of her, sifting through it with a fork no one would ever want to use again. She wasn’t really looking, though; she’d already looked. Nothing there.
“That stuff’s gross,” he said, sitting down beside her.
She was too morose to even respond.
“I mean, it’s
really gross,” he emphasized. “I don’t know how you’re even sittin’ here with it. It makes me wanna puke.”
“I just keep hoping I missed it,” she said, pushing a glob of wet hair aside. “Like maybe it’s in here somewhere.”
He really wasn’t kidding about the whole puking thing. Sure, it was just hair and a little grimy water, but it was making him feel sick. He burped, holding one hand over his mouth to make sure nothing came out, and got up and met Dan as he was coming down the stairs.
“So who was workin’ on it before I got here?” Dan asked, pulling up his sagging jeans. “You?”
Michael nodded. “Yeah.”
“Ah, you shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” Everything had seemed to go fine. No pipes had burst and nothing had flooded. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, but you should always call a plumber.
Always.”
“Right, of course.”
So you can get more money, he thought. “Find anything?”
“Nope,” Dan answered unsympathetically. “Hate to tell you, but that ring’s a goner.”
Michael sighed, having expected as much when his initial efforts hadn’t produced a result. “You sure?”
“Yeah. See, usually, about nine times out of ten, you’re able to get the ring back doin’ what you did. But sometimes, you just get unlucky. It’s gone. Somebody probably ran the water after it was already down there.”
Michael glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Maria wasn’t listening. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t. Hard to tell. Her eyes were still glazed over, and she was still sifting through the sink gunk. “She said she was brushing her teeth,” he mumbled.
“That’ll do it,” Dan said. “Well, sorry I couldn’t help you out.”
Michael shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
“It was,” Dan agreed. “Alright, you wanna pay on the spot or have me send you a bill?”
“Bill?” Michael echoed. Here he’d been thinking there would only be a bill if the ring had been retrieved. “Well, how much is it?”
“Fifty bucks for the service call, ninety bucks for the work.”
Don’t make me do math, Michael thought, though he already knew the number was higher than what he wanted it to be.
“Hundred and forty bucks,” Dan recapped.
“A hundred and forty?” That seemed a little extreme. Feeling like an idiot, he called his mom over, since she usually dealt with this kind of thing and would have a better idea if they were getting ripped off. “Mom!”
She left Dylan in the living room to play with Tina and came towards them. “Yes?”
“It’s a hundred and forty bucks,” Michael informed her.
“Oh, goodness, that’s so high,” she agreed. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get you to lower it.”
“It’s nighttime,” Dan said. “I’m on my off-hours. I came over here out of the goodness of my heart.”
“But you didn’t even get the ring back,” Michael pointed out.
“No one’s gettin’ that ring back, kid.”
Michael groaned frustratedly. “I’m not a kid,” he muttered. But in a way, he kind of felt like one. Because looking at his mom, all he could do was communicate wordlessly how much he needed her help with this. He didn’t have the money to pay for this, and he didn’t want to have to go ask Maria.
His mother sighed in frustration and said to Dan, “Wait right here. I’ll go get my checkbook.”
Thanks, Mom, Michael thought, embarrassed.
Dan groaned as he sat down on the stairs, and as if to hold up the stereotype, his shirt rose up and his pants slid down, revealing a plumber’s crack that made Michael feel even more nauseous than the sink sewage had. He left the plumber there to sit on his own and went back into the kitchen with Maria. “Dan’s not the man,” he said quietly. “Couldn’t get the ring back.”
“I didn’t think so,” Maria muttered. “It’s gone.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
She set the fork down in the pan and started to touch her left ring finger, rubbing the spot where her ring would have been. “Do me a favor,” she said. “Don’t buy me a new one.”
He made a face. “What, are you kidding? Of course I’m gonna buy you a new one.” It wouldn’t be as fancy or expensive as this one had been, but he’d go out and get one this weekend so he could have it for her when she got back from her trip.
“No, don’t,” she insisted. “We’re gonna get married so soon here anyway. It’s not even worth it.”
He disagreed. But this was typical Maria, always willing to make sacrifices. He didn’t want her to have to do that so much anymore. “You’re worth it,” he told her, planting a kiss on top of her head. He picked up the disgusting pan and headed outside to toss the whole thing in the trash.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Every town, big or small, had a drug scene. Sometimes it was obvious, sometimes less so. But Max knew that if he just talked to the right people, he could figure out where that scene lay in Roswell, New Mexico, who he had to get to in order to get what he needed. Unfortunately, his connections in this town were extremely limited, due to the fact that he hadn’t been here long. Fortunately, however, Jesse Ramirez was one his connections. He’d always suspected the guy dabbled in deeper shit than porn, and as it turned out, he was right.
“Yeah, I know a guy,” Jesse said, leading him out onto his porch that evening. His roommates were once again going at it like bunnies, so it was almost impossible to talk in there without having to shout at each other.
“Reliable?” Max questioned.
Jesse chuckled. “As reliable as dealers come, I guess. I bought some stuff from him a couple months ago.”
“What’d you buy?” Max asked.
Jesse shrugged. “Just some pot, you know.”
The thought of wasting time getting high on weed was a joke to Max. He needed more. “He’s got more than that, though, right?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. What’re you lookin’ for?”
“Probably coke, mostly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Cocaine had been his drug of choice since he’d first tried it. It gave him a feeling of supremacy, and he liked that.
“I thought you were clean, man,” Jesse remarked.
“I am,” Max insisted. “I’m not gonna use it. I just want it, just in case. Like a safety net.” Lately, he felt like he was venturing even closer and closer to the edge, and it was getting harder to ignore the pangs of longing. He wanted to know that, if he gave in, just for one night, he had a stash on hand and wouldn’t have to go looking for it. He would probably get himself in trouble if he went looking for it when he
really wanted it. He’d be too worked up, too careless, just like last time.
“Well, whatever, man. I’ll text you his name and number. Actually, it’s more like a pseudonym. Nobody knows his real name. But he’s reliable. He’ll get you what you want.”
“Thanks. Just do me a favor: Don’t tell Isabel.” The last thing he needed was for anyone to find out about this, even his sister. She had his back, no doubt, but she was a girl, and girls talked. And according to her, she’d been talking to Liz, actually becoming friends with her against all odds. Liz couldn’t know anything about this. She wasn’t cut from this cloth.
“I won’t say anything,” Jesse assured him, already taking out his phone to send him the text. “Hey, listen, this guy . . . he’s kinda pricey, though. Just so you know. But then again, I guess money’s not an issue for you.”
Max took a thick stack of twenty-dollar bills out of his pocket, fanning them out for Jesse to see. “Not at all.”
Jesse’s eyes lit up. “Where’d you get all that cash, Max?”
He grinned, wishing he didn’t have to be vague. “I sold something.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Here we go, Michael thought as he approached Tess at her locker the next morning, trying to look a little bit frantic. He had a very important job to do here, luring her into the gym. If he screwed this up, the whole proposal would be botched.
“Tess, what’re you doin’ out here?” he launched right in.
She gave him a confused look. “Putting my stuff in my locker. What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“You can’t be out here,” he told her. “There’s a pep rally.”
“What? There’s no pep rally,” she denied.
“Yeah, there is.”
“Michael, I would know if there’s a pep rally or not. I plan them.”
“They just announced it over the intercom, like five minutes ago.”
“
What?” she shrieked. “I was out in the parking lot. They wouldn’t . . .” Her eyes started to grow wide with alarm, and she dropped the books she’d been holding. “They didn’t even tell me!”
“You better get in the gym,” he advised. “People are startin’ to get antsy.”
She slammed her locker shut, but the fear of being caught off-guard with a pep rally seemed to have glued her feet in place, and Michael had to grab her arm and practically drag her down the hall. “No, this is wrong!” she screeched. “We can’t have a pep rally! I don’t even have my cheer uniform! Or my pom poms! Oh my
god, I don’t have my pom poms!”
“Sure you do,” he said, motioning towards her chest.
“Oh, shut up, Michael!” she snapped, hitting his shoulder.
“Hurry it up.” He was about to just pick her up and throw her over his shoulder and carry her. Principal Forrester had apparently been very specific that they had until the bell rang to get this accomplished. Once first period started, it started. No waiting.
“What is this pep rally even for?” she wailed.
“State golf,” he lied off the top of his head.
“State
golf?” she shrieked. “Who the hell cares about state golf?”
“You’re so peppy.”
“Okay!” She threw her arms down at her sides, stomping in front of him, and with a renewed sense of purpose, neared the gym doors. “Who do I have to talk to to put a stop to this?” Throwing open the doors, she entered in a huff. “Because this is
not--” She came to an abrupt stop when she saw what awaited her, then squeaked out, “Happening.”
Michael stood back, surveying the set-up he’d been a part of. It was so ridiculously over-the-top, but so what Tess had probably wanted. The entire student body was flocking in, taking a seat on the bleachers as if they really
were at a pep rally. Kyle stood in the middle of the gym floor, in a tux and everything, a small black box in his hand. Behind him, they had pulled out the visitor’s side bleachers and spelled out the words
Marry Me? in pom poms. There had to be at least a thousand of them, all of which Kyle had ordered and paid for himself. On the sideline, the school’s pep band was set up and playing Magic’s hit song, “Rude,” which was one of Tess’s recent favorites. Beside them, her fellow cheerleaders, in uniform, stood and danced, three of them holding signs with the letters
Y, E, and
S on them.
Everyone started to clap and cheer for her when she came in, looking like she was hyperventilating but loving every second of this. She looked like she was saying “Oh my god!” over and over again, but it was too loud in there to hear her.
Michael took a seat on the lowest bleacher next to a couple freshmen who looked more interested in playing games on their phones than in watching what was happening, and he looked on as Tess walked out to the center of the court where Kyle was waiting for her. Girls screamed as if they were at a rock concert when he got down on one knee and opened the box. Tess started to cry, flitting her hands in front of her face, and once he got done saying whatever he was saying to her, she nodded vigorously and held out her hand. The crowd got even louder.
“Y-E-S!” the cheerleaders chanted for her, doing motions and holding up their signs. “She said yes! Kyle and Tess! We wish you the best!”
Michael shook his head, smiling despite how this whole thing reeked of a romantic comedy. He really was happy for his friends. Everyone seemed happy for them. Even most of the faculty had come in to watch the “it” couple officially get engaged.
After Kyle slid the ring onto her finger, he stood up, and Tess leapt into his arms. He twirled her around, and everyone stood up and clapped for them. Lots of people held up their phones and took pictures. There would be a massive amount of tweets about this one.
Massive.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oddly enough, ever since she’d discovered she was pregnant, Liz found work to be more bearable. It was just nice to have something to throw herself into. It was when her shift got over that she really started to feel emotional, that the stress of having to tell her parents started to weigh on her, even though it paled in comparison to the stress of having to tell Max.
She was glad when her father assigned her and Maria to do inventory of all the canned goods stacked in the backroom. It was a monotonous, mind-numbing task, but one that she really had to focus on. No time to be distracted while counting up items. Nope. No chance her mind could wander.
“Oh my gosh, they got engaged!” Maria exclaimed suddenly.
“What?” Even Liz had to admit, that news was a little bit distracting. “Who?”
“Tess and Kyle. Michael sent me a photo.” She held up her phone for Liz to see.
“Oh, yeah, I remember Kyle,” Liz said. “Are he and Michael still best friends?”
“Yeah, they’re going to college together.” She put her phone away, correcting herself. “I mean . . . they were.”
“Kyle was always nice,” Liz recalled. “Are you and Tess friends?”
“Yeah, I guess so, nowadays,” Maria replied. “She really didn’t like me at first. Plus, she and Isabel used to be best friends, so . . .”
“Oh, that’s right.” Liz returned her attention to the cans in front of her, trying to remember where she had left off. Cans of spaghetti sauce . . . was she at fifty or sixty? She decided to just split the difference and call it fifty-five. Good enough. Whatever the number was, they clearly needed more if the new supernova spaghetti continued selling the way it did.
“I guess I’ll have to talk to Tess, warn her about the dangers of setting her engagement ring down on the sink,” Maria said sadly.
“I feel so bad for you.” Liz gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “It’s okay, though. Everyone knows what you and Michael have is special, with or without a ring.”
“Well, at least Tina gave me this as a replacement,” Maria said, holding up her left hand. “It’s a mood-ring.”
Liz gasped with delight. “A
mood ring? I haven’t seen one of those in years.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda tight,” Maria said, turning it from side to side as much as she could. “Anyway, it was sweet of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Liz agreed. “I met her when she came in here a few times. She always reminded me a lot of myself. Socially awkward, kind of a bookworm.”
“Well, these days she’s most concerned with being popular,” Maria informed her. “Still gets good grades, though.” She looked down at the ring and made a face. “Why is it orange?”
“What’s orange stand for?”
“Oh, wait, I have a cheat sheet.” Maria untucked a small slip of paper from the waistband of her apron and unfolded it. “Orange, orange,” she said, skimming the list. “Ah, okay. Orange is . . .” She frowned. “Stressed, nervous, confused, upset.”
Liz smiled sympathetically. “It’s just because of last night.”
“And tonight,” Maria added. “I’m leaving for the week.”
“Oh, right, the music thing.” Liz had only heard Maria humming, singing to herself a few times during work. From what she could tell, she had a nice voice. “That’ll be fun.”
“Hopefully,” Maria agreed, putting the mood ring cheat sheet back in her apron band again. She swayed over towards the door, looking through the tiny window back into the café itself.
“How we doin’ out there?” Liz asked. “Does Agnes need help?”
“Constantly,” Maria muttered. “Actually, there’s a guy sitting at the counter.”
“That’d be on me,” Liz said, handing Maria the clipboard she was using to jot down all the inventory notes. She was just about to walk out into the café when she caught sight of just who that guy was, and she quickly took a few steps back and grabbed the clipboard again. “Actually, I’m good back here. You should go wait on him.”
“He’s in your section,” Maria said, giving her a suspicious look. “Liz.”
Liz sighed. “Okay, that’s my ex-boyfriend Alex. I don’t even know what he’s doing here.”
“Alex,” Maria echoed. “Tutor Alex. Yeah, he’s in town a lot. I think he’s working with some of the high school kids this summer. He tutored Michael earlier this year.”
“I remember,” Liz said. “Can you please go wait on him? We ended things amicably enough, but . . . he’s still an ex.”
“Sorry,” Maria said. “My shift’s almost done. I gotta leave. It’s my last day working at the library today.”
“Last day?”
“Yeah. Michael’s mom thinks I’m gonna need to focus on the wedding and moving when I get back next week, so she said today’s my last day.”
So that means you’ll be moving soon, Liz thought. It wasn’t that she was eager to see her go. Maria was really nice, and they were getting along well, and her dad raved about what a good waitress she had become. But Max wouldn’t be so distracted once she was gone. He would be able to focus on her and . . . and
their baby. She was going to tell him before then, though. She didn’t want to wait too long and then have him feel like she’d been keeping it a secret from him.
“Just go talk to him,” Maria suggested, removing her headband. “You’ve moved on; he’s probably moved on. It’ll be fine.”
“Right.” Liz gave her a small wave goodbye, then pushed through the swinging door and re-entered the café. She set the clipboard down underneath the counter and approached Alex, whose eyes were glued to his menu. “Hi,” she said softly.
He looked up at her and smiled. “Oh, hi, Liz.”
It was good to see him again. He was a really good guy. “How are you?” she asked.
“I’m good,” he replied. “I’m tutoring this summer.”
“That’s great,” she said. “I’m . . . working here, obviously.”
“I figured you would be,” he said. “Thought I’d stop in and see if you were here.”
“Well . . .” She flapped her arms against her sides. “Here I am.”
He set his menu down, looking her up and down. “You look different,” he remarked.
She tensed momentarily, panicked. Oh god, could he just tell? Could he just look at her and see that she was pregnant? Was she glowing? Worse, was she
showing? No, she couldn’t be. Right?
“I got my hair cut, a little bit,” she said. “Just, like, an inch.”
“It looks nice,” he said. “So you made it through your freshman year.”
“I did.” She definitely wasn’t the same as when she had started, though.
Definitely not. “Oh, hey, speaking of freshman year . . . did you know Isabel’s going to Princeton?”
“Yeah.” He stared at her curiously. “Are you and Isabel . . . friends now?”
“Not exactly, but we
are getting to know each other,” she said, pleased with that development. It was never good to have enemies. “I’m actually dating her brother.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
He chuckled. “Small world.”
“Yeah, very.”
“Is she, uh . . .” He picked up the menu again, just flipping through the pages, not really looking at it. “Is she still dating that guy from the video?”
Jesse, she registered. Whatever this video was that people kept mentioning, she had absolutely no desire to see it. “Yeah,” she answered, knowing that it probably stung him a bit to hear that. “Yeah, she is.” Clearly he liked her. She’d been able to tell that much even back when they had been dating. “She’s mentioned you a few times.”
He grunted. “A few.”
“I think she misses you.”
“Well . . . that’s too bad.”
She nodded, sensing that he didn’t want to talk too much about her. Isabel seemed to be a sore subject for him. She must have done something to hurt his feelings, or to give him false hope. Liz didn’t want to do the same, so she changed the subject. “So, uh, the big news around here, apparently . . . your former study buddy Michael got engaged.”
Alex’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What?”
“Yeah. To Maria, obviously. And apparently he’s, like, trying to adopt her son.”
“Wow.”
“I know, right? And Isabel’s friend Tess just got engaged, like, five minutes ago to Michael’s best friend Kyle.”
“
Wow,” Alex repeated. “What’s with the teenagers around here? Marriage, kids, all before they’re even in their twenties? What’s the rush? Get out there and live your life a little, be young, discover who you are and what you want out of life first.”
Liz stared at him, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah,” she said, wondering if she should tell him about her . . . situation. About how she couldn’t be young anymore.
“I’m just skeptical, you know?” he said. “Best of luck to all of ‘em, but . . . sometimes when you’re this young, things just don’t work out the way you hope they will.”
She nodded slowly, warily, her stomach knotting up as she mulled that over. Alex didn’t mean to upset her when he said that—he didn’t know any better—but she was pretty sure that, if she was wearing a mood ring like the one Maria had on, it would be orange right now, too.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Let me see the ring again.”
Tess held out her hand, starting to think that she should just walk with it out in front of her all day so every girl could see. “My gosh, ladies,” she said as a few of her sophomore cheerleaders accompanied her to class. “You act like you’ve never seen a ring before.”
“Tess, you’re
engaged,” Annie, the likely future captain raved. “You’ve still got a year left of high school, and you’re
engaged.”
Tess squealed, doing a little bounce of excitement. “Ooh, I know. It’s so perfect.”
“You’re so lucky,” Sierra, the likely
not future captain, envied. “Kyle’s such a great guy, and you guys are, like, the perfect couple.”
“We are, aren’t we?” Tess agreed. The bell rang, and instead of taking a left for chemistry class, she veered to the right, towards the bathrooms.
“You’re gonna be late,” Annie said.
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Nobody’s gonna count me tardy today.” She flashed the ring one more time, then ducked into the bathroom while her friends tried to scamper into Mr. Frost’s classroom unnoticed.
She set her books down on the sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror, taking it all in. When she had woken up that morning, she had just been the normal Tess Harding. Now, she was the future
Mrs. Valenti. Everyone had always known this day was coming, but now it was official. And the way Kyle had gone about the proposal had been absolutely perfect. She liked being the center of attention, and she liked elaborate things. His proposal had definitely measured up to her standards, exceeded them, even. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined him doing something so unique, so adorable. The pom poms alone must have taken hours.
She held her left hand up to her shoulder, sighing happily when she got to see her ring reflected in the mirror. It was absolutely perfect, too. She had basically hand-picked it a few months ago during a very deliberate shopping excursion to Zales Jewelry. It was a pricey little thing, and the diamond was
very noticeable. Princess-cut, of course.
She loved it. Loved Kyle. Loved her whole life. No complaints.
One of the toilets flushed suddenly, alerting her to the fact that she wasn’t alone in there. She waited whoever was in there to come out, hoping it was another one of her cheerleaders, somebody she could show off her ring to. But unfortunately, it was only a
former cheerleader. And a former best friend.
Isabel looked awful. A couple months ago, she never would have shown up to school looking like she was now, with makeup smeared, bags under her eyes, hair barely combed. She looked like she had just woken up this morning—probably in Jesse’s bed—and headed to school after rolling out of bed.
“Hey,” Isabel greeted softly.
“Hey,” Tess returned, wishing now that she hadn’t come in here. This was so awkward. When she and Isabel saw each other in the halls, it wasn’t so hard to ignore each other, because there were so many other people around. But here, there was no one. Just the two of them and a whole lot of uncomfortable silence.
Isabel stepped up to the adjacent sink and started washing her hands. “I saw the whole spectacle this morning,” she remarked.
Tess made a face. Of course she would refer to it that way, as a
spectacle. “Root word of spectacular,” she mumbled.
“Yeah, it was great,” Isabel agreed. “Did you help him plan it?”
“No, of course not.”
“Oh, well . . . he really knows you well then.” Isabel shut off the water and used her elbow to press down the handle of the paper towel dispenser. She tore off a strip when it was long enough and dried her hands. “I’m really happy for you,” she said. “I know you’ve wanted this all year.”
Even though she was skeptical of this entire conversation, Tess said, “Thanks,” softly, wishing that they were still close, still best friends. Because the only thing that could have made this day more perfect was being able to celebrate it with Isabel. But that just wouldn’t happen anymore.
“Well, I gotta get to class,” Isabel said. “Later.”
“Bye.” Tess watched in the mirror as she left, wondering if that would be their last conversation. The school year was almost over. She had no plans to see the girl over the summer, and soon enough, she’d be off to Princeton, hopefully starting her life all over. When this wedding did eventually roll around, probably
next summer, Isabel wouldn’t be a part of it. She wouldn’t be her maid of honor the way Tess had always envisioned. Oddly enough, Maria probably would be, because by then, they would be even better friends.
Where did all of this leave Isabel? Did it leave her . . . anywhere?
Tess let out a shaky breath, gathering up her books, reluctantly leaving the restroom. Losing Isabel’s friendship was hard and probably always would be, but she wasn’t about to let that ruin the greatest day of her life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So this is what it must feel like to be Michael, Isabel thought as she roamed aimlessly down the hallways. They were mostly empty, except for a few other students who were as bored in the classroom as she was. This was what it was like to skip class and not care, to not worry about the consequences or stress about the trouble you could get into. She sort of hated that it had taken her this long to do this. But what she hated even more was that she didn’t have the guts to do what Michael
really would have done and just leave the building altogether.
So she roamed, never once stopped by a teacher or an assistant or even a janitor. Nobody cared anymore. They were all just biding their time until the end of the year. None of it mattered.
She occupied herself by sending texts to Courtney, Eric, and Jesse. While she waited for them to text back, she thought of Tess, with that fancy new ring on her finger. She thought of the whole extravaganza this morning, how utterly schmaltzy the whole thing had been. But she couldn’t make fun of it, not when she secretly yearned for it. Didn’t everybody? Didn’t everybody ultimately want the kind of relationship Tess and Kyle had? It couldn’t be broken, never would be. They would always be together, and nothing would ever threaten that. That sense of security had to be nice.
The more she thought about them, the more upset she became. Honestly, she really
was happy for them. Even though Tess was technically no longer her friend, she would always care about her, and she was glad she was getting what she wanted. But it hurt so much to not be getting the same thing for herself, to be nowhere close to it. Everyone thought she had things so great because she was heading off to Princeton in the fall, her dream school. But lately, her dreams were all just nightmares.
She pulled up a few photos to forward to Jesse, making sure no one was around who could look over her shoulder and see them. These were definitely the kind of photos no one else was allowed to see. She had taken them in the bathroom before Tess had come in. One was a close-up of her breasts, another of her own hands up under her skirt, two fingers slipped inside herself. Jesse had told her the other night that he was big on sexting and had encouraged her to send him a few pictures so he could start a personal collection.
But she had a better idea. Her face wasn’t in either of the pictures, so what harm could it do to make them a little more . . . public?
put these up on your website, she texted him.
don’t tell anyone it’s me
She got a little rush as her thumb pressed the send button.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What was the point of study hall when you had nothing to study? For that matter, what was the point of school in general? All anyone was doing during sixth period that day was sitting around talking to each other. The teachers were glorified babysitters at this point. Michael fully planned on skipping school tomorrow and spending the whole day with Dylan instead. That would be more productive than this.
None of his friends were in his study hall, but Jase left his study hall, came in, and started talking Michael’s ear off. First about some new hot chick he claimed to be banging, and then some hot chick his sister was banging because she’d sworn off men altogether. Michael halfway listened, struggling to stay awake until Jase started talking about something else.
“Hey, man, so I was thinkin’, I oughta throw you and Kyle a party.”
“Me and Kyle,” he echoed. “Why?”
“You know, for gettin’ engaged and shit.”
“Engaged and shit.” Michael nodded slowly. Just the fact that Jase would phrase it that way made it painfully obvious he knew nothing about being engaged, that he had no idea what it felt like to be that in love with someone.
“It’ll be awesome,” Jase promised. “Just picture it: Good music, better beer, the
best strippers.”
“What is this, like a bachelor party?”
Jase’s eyes widened excitedly. “Yeah, a bachelor party. My girlfriend could be one of the strippers.”
“Hey, listen, I got nothin’ against a good stripper,” Michael assured him, “but if I was gonna have a bachelor party . . . no offense, man, but you wouldn’t be the person to plan it.”
Jase frowned. “What do you mean?”
Michael sighed, figuring he’d just be honest with the guy. “Alright, I’m just gonna tell you this ‘cause we’re about to graduate, and then I’m gonna move away and probably never see you again.” He paused for dramatic effect, then just laid it out there for him. “You’re fuckin’ annoying.”
Instead of looking offended, Jase just admitted, “I’ve been told that.”
“I mean
really annoying,” Michael emphasized. “I don’t even like you half the time.”
“That’s fine,” Jase said, undeterred. “Listen, if we’re all gonna go our separate ways come graduation day, all the more reason for us to have one last blowout. What do you say? Tomorrow night? Saturday?”
“No, I can’t. I gotta take care of Dylan while Maria’s away.”
“Oh.” Jase made a face. “That sucks.”
“No, it’s fine.” He didn’t mind. In fact, given the choice of spending an evening with Dylan or with Jase, he would’ve chosen Dylan every time.
“But . . . you pretty much can’t have fun anymore,” Jase said. “You’re all tied down.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Alright, maybe not, but . . . what about the party?”
Michael sighed, growing increasingly annoyed by the conversation. “Just throw Kyle the party. He’ll tell me all about it.”
“Oh, come on, you know you wanna be there,” Jase kept on. “You’re . . . you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jase shrugged. “This whole domesticated thing . . . that’s not you. You’re the guy who came here and taught all the rest of us how to party. You’re a legend in this town.”
Michael rolled his eyes. Yeah, right. Kyle was the legend. He was the one people would look back on fondly when he on TV getting his first Super Bowl ring. He was the one people would remember for years to come.
“Just get your mom to watch the kid,” Jase suggested. “Easy.”
“No.” His mom did enough for him, probably too much. She wasn’t as vocal about it as his dad and Amy DeLuca were, but he knew she had a lot of the same concerns they did, concerns about whether or not he would be able to handle things out on his own. He wanted to use this as an opportunity to show her that he could, not to give extra fuel to her worries.
At last, Jase relented, though he didn’t look happy about it. “Whatever, man,” he said. “Your loss.”
Whatever, Michael agreed. At this point, he knew he wasn’t losing out on anything.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The house was quiet when Isabel got home that day. Too quiet. As if no one was there. She’d gone to Jesse’s for a little while—he couldn’t stop raving about the photos she’d sent them and how many people were already commenting about them on the website. They had proceeded to have sex, which had taken up quite a bit of time. It was nearly dinnertime now. Somebody should have been home.
She checked the refrigerator, where her mom often left memos even though texting was so much more efficient. No memo, but there was a half-crumpled Post-It note on the counter with an address and a name Isabel didn’t recognize. Her mom was probably showing a house to some potential buyers. During the summer, it wasn’t unusual for her to show a house every evening. She was usually working more than she was at home from May through August.
Max had made himself quite at home during the short time he’d been there, though, and usually, he was hanging around. She headed upstairs to the guest room, wondering if he was getting tired of the floral décor by now, wondering further if he might start adding a few personal touches to it soon. He seemed content to stay there all summer, and their mother was obviously happy to have him.
His curtains were pulled, so his room was pretty dark when she walked in. She didn’t bother turning on the light, though, because he was lying in bed, sprawled out on his stomach, snoring.
Weird, she thought. Max had proven to be a heavy sleeper, and by no means was he an early riser, but this was an odd time of day for
anyone to be sleeping.
“Max,” she said, reaching down to shake his shoulder gently. “Wake up.”
He groaned a bit, barely opening his eyes.
“Wake up, Max,” she said again, pushing his legs over a bit so she had room to sit down. “How are you still asleep?”
He stirred, burying his face in his pillow momentarily before propping himself up on his arms and looking around through squinted eyes. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice scratchy-sounding.
“6:30,” she answered, “p.m.”
He made a face, as if he couldn’t believe he’d slept the entire day away, and struggled to get up into a sitting position. “Damn,” he said, running his hand through his disheveled hair.
“Late night?” she teased.
“Yeah.”
“With Liz?” Maybe Liz had told him about the bun in the oven. That would explain why he looked like crap.
“No, not with Liz,” he said, yawning. “I wish. I just . . .” He paused for a bit, as if his tired brain was trying to formulate words, then shrugged. “I was out late.”
“Yeah, I heard someone downstairs at 6:00 this morning,” she said.
“Probably me.”
“Why were you out so late?” If there had been some wild, crazy party going on, she would have liked to tag along with him. The old Isabel Evans had hated that kind of atmosphere, but the new Isabel Evans found it entertaining.
He gave her a long, hard look, then said, “Okay, if I show you something, will you promise not to tell anyone? Not Liz, not Mom.”
“Sure.” She was starting to get intrigued.
He leaned over to the bedside table and pulled open the drawer, carefully taking out a small plastic baggy that fit in the palm of his hand. It was full of a white powdery substance that sort of looked like salt, but Isabel knew instinctively that it wasn’t. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked in astonishment.
“Coke, yeah,” Max confirmed, palming the bag. “An ounce. This stuff’s not cheap.”
“But I thought you were clean.” Wasn’t that what he had been telling everyone? Wasn’t that what they all believed?
“I am,” he insisted. “I didn’t do any of it yet.”
“Yet.” So did that mean he was planning to? And if so, when? Why? Isabel definitely wasn’t about to get up on some moral high horse and lecture him, not when she’d recently tried pot at Jesse’s. But she was curious about what would make him stay out all night last night to score an ounce of this.
“You can’t tell anyone,” he reiterated. “I don’t even know if I’ll . . .” He trailed off, shoving the bag back into the drawer. He slammed it shut, almost as if he was relieved to have it out of his sight. “I’m hanging on by a thread, Isabel,” he whispered in a panic.
Her intrigue and curiosity started to shift into something else now: concern. She loved her brother, even though she hadn’t known him for very long, and she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. Especially because she knew about Liz’s situation and she knew he would have to be able to hold it together unless he wanted his own history to repeat itself.
“Nothing ever goes my way,” he lamented. “Everything’s falling apart. I’m starting to think I never should have come here.”
“Max . . .” She rested one hand on top of his, squeezing gently. “If you never would’ve come, you never would’ve gotten to know Dylan.”
“I still haven’t gotten to know Dylan,” she muttered angrily, “and I don’t think I ever will.”
She sighed, wishing she could disagree with that. But Maria didn’t seem to be backing down, and as much as Isabel hated to admit it, she and Michael had been doing a pretty good job of putting up a united front against any and all of Max’s attempts to create chaos. Things really
weren’t going his way.
( )
“I’m not his dad. I’m not anyone to him,” Max said sorrowfully, looking down at his lap. “I’m no one.”
This didn’t even sound like Max. It sounded like the person who was putting him down. “You are
not no one,” she insisted, though he didn’t seem to be listening anymore. She wanted to tell him that he still had the chance to be a father to a different kid, but it wasn’t her place. “Maybe life has other plans for you,” she speculated, hoping that life had other plans for
both of them.
“I don’t think so,” he muttered, his eyes still downcast. He looked lost.
She removed her hand from his, sitting back, watching him intently with worry. With drugs in the nightstand drawer, that meant that the thread he was hanging on by was growing all the more thin, and chances were, any day now, it was going to break.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Maria rolled her head backward as Michael pressed his hips up into her. If he hadn’t had his arms around her back and if she hadn’t been holding onto his shoulders, she was certain she wouldn’t be upright, because she felt consumed. The things he did, the way he moved . . . it was intoxicating.
She loved the way he nipped at her shoulders and neck, the way his hands roamed down lower to grab her ass and lift her up higher, just so she could sink back down even further, one sweat-soaked body sliding against another. But most of all, she loved that, even though he wasn’t saying much, his passionate groans and grunts said it all.
It felt so good that it hurt. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life as he rolled his hips forward and up, over and over again, straight into her, hitting all the right spots. He knew her insides. No one else would ever know her the way he did.
She longed for this, at all times, it seemed. She craved his body, the feel of it, the smell, and the shock waves it sent through her. Whether it was fucking, making love, or some combination of the two like this, she wanted it. She loved it.
After they have both came, he just sat with her, not moving. She was spent, and clearly so was he, but they would have to move soon. But not now. She sat on his lap, still feeling him inside. Her legs were wrapped around him, and she couldn’t help but smile appreciatively as he touched her hair and looked her right in the eye. He could be so gentle without even knowing it.
Even though she had to, she never wanted to let him go.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Damn, Michael thought when he heard a car horn honk outside. He had just gotten out of the shower, and now it was time for Maria to go. Luckily they’d been able to squeeze in a little bedroom rendezvous. He had to send her out on a positive note.
“They’re here,” Maria said, peeking out the window. “Oh my god, I’m so nervous.”
“I think you’ll have fun,” Michael’s mom said encouragingly. She sat on the couch with Dylan on her lap. The little guy was unusually subdued tonight, almost as if he knew his mom was going to be away for a week.
“Want me to carry anything out?” Michael offered.
“It’s okay,” Maria said, slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder, “I got it.”
His mother looked at the bag curiously, asking, “How could you fit everything in one bag?”
“I lived out of a backpack before you guys took me in,” Maria reminded her. “I know how to pack light.”
Even though she said she didn’t need any help carrying it out, Michael took the bag from her so that she could say goodbye to the family. The family that had bothered to show up, anyway. His dad was either upstairs sleeping off a hangover or out at the bar incurring one.
“Okay, I’m not gonna cry,” Maria said, first giving Tina a hug.
“It’s just a week,” Tina reminded her.
“That’s right. But you gotta promise to keep Dylan entertained while I’m gone.”
“Michael and I can entertain him,” Tina promised.
“Thanks.” She went to Krista next, sitting down beside her to give her a hug. Michael couldn’t hear every word, but he faintly heard her expressing her gratitude, letting his mom know how grateful she was for how much she helped.
Next came Dylan, who looked like he didn’t quite know what was going on. Maria lifted him off Krista’s lap and set him down on her own, hugging him and kissing him and telling him how much she loved him; and even though she had promised not to cry, that was exactly what she started to do. Michael sensed they were going to need a minute, so he opened the front door and signaled to the girls in the car that Maria would be out there shortly. He set her bag down on the porch and made his way back inside.
“I miss you, Mommy,” Dylan was saying.
“Miss me?” She wiped off her cheeks. “I’m not even gone yet.”
“When you come back?” He sounded worried. Poor little guy.
“Really soon. In a week. Do you know how long a week is?”
“Um . . .” He thought about it, then shook his head.
“Seven days,” she told him, kissing his head. “That’s not long. You’re gonna have so much fun here with Michael and Tina and Krista. You won’t even know I’m gone.”
“But I still miss you,” he said.
“Oh, I’m glad you’ll miss me.” Maria had to look up at the ceiling just to keep more tears inside. It dawned on Michael as he watched the whole goodbye pan out that Maria had never spent seven days away from Dylan. Not once in the past three and a half years. This was as new for her as it was for him.
“Okay,” she said, handing him back over to Tina. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mommy.”
She gave him one more kiss on the cheek, then forced herself up and tearfully waved goodbye to the three of them as she headed outside. Michael followed her, shutting the door behind him.
She waved hello to the girls in the car, the band that was so graciously taking her on their mini-tour, and he could see the excitement return to her again. As hard as it was for her to leave, she was really looking forward to it. It made him happy to know that she was doing this at least partly because he had encouraged her to.
He couldn’t think of anything to say, and it didn’t seem like she could, either. She stood in front of him, looking up at him as though there were things she wanted to say, but she didn’t need to. He got it. He understood. She loved him. She would miss him. She would love being able to sing in front of people, but she would love coming back home to him, too. Really, words weren’t necessarily. They had said it all up in the bedroom, where it had been just the two of them and they could live in their own little world.
Still . . . he loved the girl a lot, and he wasn’t about to let her take off without a goodbye kiss. So he cupped her cheek, bent forward, and pressed his mouth to hers, letting it linger, realizing for the first time since she’d agreed to go on this road trip that she wasn’t the only one who would be feeling a little separation anxiety. He had known Maria for nine months now, and not once in those nine months had he gone a full week without seeing her. And it wasn’t just not seeing her that was going to kill him. It was not touching her, holding her at night . . . and kissing her just like this.
He ended their kiss only because he knew he had to, because those girls couldn’t wait for her forever. She picked up her bag before he could do it for her, but before she stepped down off that porch, she took both his hands in hers. She opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but once again, words escaped her. She just sighed and smiled, then slowly started to let go of his hands.
He took a step back towards the door, and she stepped down onto the porch step. One more step and their hands slipped apart, and she was able to turn head out towards the car. She cast a few glances over her shoulder as she walked, but eventually she got in that car and shut the door. She looked out the window, pressing her hand flat against the glass, and he waved goodbye as the car slowly rolled down the street.
Staying on the porch, he watched her go until she and her new friends disappeared into the night. He would have loved to go with her, and truthfully, part of him was wishing he had. But she needed him here. Here, where the bed would feel way too big and empty without here, where he would have a hard time falling asleep without her. Screw the tally marks on his wall that were meant to count all the way to the last day of school; he was going to make a new tally, a tally of the days until he could see Maria again. Touch her. Kiss her. Lie behind her at night and make sure she was warm. That was the only damn tally he cared about.
TBC . . .
-April