Well, that’s probably because we are. Maria’s whole life is starting to come apart. All her relationships/friendships are changing, and it’s pretty scary for her. That’s why she’s been lying this whole time, because if she starts to tell to the truth, everything’s going to give way beneath her.For some reason, I feel like we're on a downward spiral for Maria.
Vael:
I know! But it’s been this way throughout the entire fic. I can’t stop taking giant leaps back now.arghhh you make me want to pull hair April it's like one small step, a giant leap back
Christina:
I couldn’t have said it any better myself. You’re exactly right. And denying and drowning are both neither fun nor healthy.It's starting to get painful seeing Michael and Maria together now, because these emotions are getting in the way and Michael is denying them; while Maria is just drowning in them.
Sara:
I agree. It doesn’t matter whether you like Michael and Maria or dislike Michael and Maria, whether you like Liz and Max or dislike Liz and Max. The fact of the matter is that cheating is clearly wrong.I am glad Isabel spoke up about not interfering. I think its the right decision. As long as Michael and maria are with Liz and Max they shouldn't be doing anything with each other.
nibbles:
Oh, yeah. He’s gonna spending a lot of time outside that bubble now. A lot of time.It's so great to see Michael, finally beginning to leave his little bubble of blissful ignorance and enter the world of confusion and doubt and guilt.
Alien_Friend:
Well, things between Michael and Maria are definitely going to be strained for awhile, but I’m pretty sure there’s a part next week that’s going to break through the ‘hey’ barrier.I'm worried it's going to take those two 20 more chapters before they make any more progress and stop this awkward hey thing they have going on.
mrs_guerin:
Well, there you go. There’s a way to look at the glass half full instead of half empty, I guess. Drunk Maria doesn’t beat around the bush, does she?I totally agree, didn't think i want to see Maria drunk again, but this was perfect, she did get to say some things to get Michael thinking.
Still, she has a history of unhealthy drinking, so she probably shouldn’t have even had a sip.Ashley:
Getting frustrated?And Someone should just tell them that they should be together I'm getting frustrated
You mean you weren’t frustrated before this? Loltequathisy:
I loved when Max mistook snails for sharks. And nobody reacted. Hilarious.
I’m glad you liked that. I thought it was kind of funny, too. That’s the life of a teacher/tutor I guess. You try to make people smarter, and they just stare at you with dumb looks on their faces, lol.spacegirl23:
He’s a piece of work, isn’t he? Up until now, Michael arguably hadn’t made many mistakes. He’d been a dumb-ass, of course, hadn’t made the smartest choices in the world, but he hadn’t been lying to people and he hadn’t done anything to truly upset Maria. Now . . . like I said, he’s a piece of work.Michael, stop saying the wrong things! Gosh!
Thanks for the feedback! It’s as appreciated as ever! You guys are great!
Okay, so I just found out that I don’t have class on Friday . . . again! This is awesome! I’m thrilled. Anyway, I’m going to do like I did last week and post ANOTHER UPDATE TOMORROW and then the update following that will be on Monday. You know how we do things on the Passion thread.
Okay, I’m such a dork right now, I should just go ahead and post the new part.Part 91
Max woke up at 11:15 that morning. So unusual for him. He made it a point never to wake up later than 9:00, but now that he didn’t have class, laziness was starting to kick in. And the way he saw it . . . hell, he’d earned it. He’d earned the right to be lazy and was planning on enjoying it while it lasted. Because knowing him, it wouldn’t last long.
He trudged out into the kitchen, yawning. It was almost comical that, even though he’d gotten more sleep than he usually did, he felt more tired.
“Late night?” Kyle asked. He was eating breakfast at the counter and simultaneously reading both a textbook and a Playboy magazine. Well, he probably wasn’t reading the Playboy magazine, but . . .
“Yeah,” Max replied. “Really late night with Liz.”
Kyle gave him a questioning look.
Max made a face, realizing how that statement could easily be misinterpreted. “Oh, no, we were studying. Not . . . that sounded kind of weird.”
“I don’t know,” Kyle said, shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “When I first met Liz, I could’ve sworn you two would . . . you know, holy matrimony, white picket fences and all that shit.”
Max . . . really didn’t know what to say to that. Him and Liz? They were friends but . . . no, a certain fiery blonde girl had always been the girl for him. He was sure of it. The only person he wanted holy matrimony and white picket fences with was Maria DeLuca.
“Is she still asleep?” he asked.
“Liz?”
“No, Maria.”
“Oh. Yeah, she had a late night last night, too. She was already out by the time I got home.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Late night with Michael.”
Max tensed a little, his mind immediately assuming things he didn’t want to. “What do you mean?”
“They just did a little drinking,” Kyle said, gesturing to the trash can. Max took a look. There were indeed empty bottles thrown in there.
“Actually, Michael said Maria did most of the drinking,” Kyle elaborated. “Go figure.”
“Yeah, that’s weird,” Max agreed. “Why would she do that? She hasn’t drunk since . . .”
Kyle just shrugged slowly and said, “Who knows, man?”
“Huh.” Max glanced down the hallway at the closed door to Maria’s room and caught a glimpse of the clock. “Wait a minute,” he said. “She has a final in forty-five minutes.”
“Whoa,” Kyle said. “That’s badness.”
“I should go wake her up.” He started down the hallway.
“Good luck, man.”
Max slowly pushed open the door to Maria’s bedroom and peered inside. She was lying on her stomach, her left cheek pressed flat against the pillow, her mouth slightly open. She was definitely out of it.
“Maria,” he said softly. “Maria, you awake?” Dumb question, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself. Obviously she wasn’t. “Maria. Maria, it’s about 11:20 now.” He stepped closer to the bed, reached down, and placed his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. “Maria, wake up.”
“Mmm,” she groaned, frowning.
“Maria, you have to wake up. You have a final in forty-five minutes.”
“No,” she said, burying her face in her pillow.
“Yes.” He tried shaking her again, but she didn’t move. Oh, this was going to be harder than he thought. Maria wasn’t just tired; she was hung-over.
“Dude, you gotta be more aggressive than that,” Kyle said. He was standing in the doorway now with an empty metal pot and a large spoon in his hands. “Move over. Let me do it.”
Max stood aside and let Kyle come in and start banging the spoon against the pan right by Maria’s ear.
“DeLuca!” Kyle yelled. “Get up!”
“Stop!” She pressed her hands over her ears.
“No! Up and outta bed, Maria, right now!” He pressed his foot against her side and effectively rolled her over onto her back.
“Stop!”
Kyle ceased banging the pot for a moment, turned to Max, and said, “Alright, desperate times, man. Go get a pot of ice water.”
“What?” Max shrieked. “I’m not dumping ice water on my girlfriend.”
“Fine, then turn on the lights. Do something.”
Max reached over and cringed as he flipped the light switch upward. Sure, there was already sunlight streaming into the room, but that was natural light. It wasn’t blinding like this would be.
“Uh . . .” she groaned, covering her eyes.
Kyle reached over, pressed the power button on her alarm clock, and loud music began to blare.
“Ah!” she yelled, covering her ears again.
“Max, blink the lights,” Kyle commanded.
Max grimaced and turned the light switch on and off in rapid succession. The flickering seemed to annoy Maria more than anything.
“Oh my god!”
Kyle resumed banging the spoon against the pan, and Maria was faced with the task of shielding her eyes and covering her ears all at once. Needless to say, it didn’t work out well. They were forcing her to wake up.
“Guys, stop!”
“No!” Kyle shouted right back at her. “Wake up, DeLuca!”
“Uh . . .”
Max was still blinking the lights when Michael came down the hallway, looking just as tired and disheveled as Maria. “What the hell’s goin’ on in here?” he asked, his eyes only halfway open.
“Maria needs to wake up because she’s got a final today,” Kyle said.
“Get your ass outta bed, DeLuca,” Michael said, trudging back down the hallway.
“Get your ass outta bed!” she shout back. “Okay, guys, stop with the . . . noise and stuff. Stop.”
Max stopped messing with the lights, leaving them on, and Kyle stopped clanking the pot and turned off the overbearingly loud radio alarm. “Alright, you gonna wake up?” he said.
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m hung-over.”
“Maria, I hate to tell you, but you don’t really have a choice,” Max said. “It’s a final. You have to take it. If you get up now, you can make it. I’ll drive you.”
She yawned and said, “Oh, god . . . this sucks.”
“Reason number one a girl like Maria shouldn’t drink,” Kyle said. “The suck factor.”
“Why did you get drunk last night anyway?” Max couldn’t help but ask her. Maria had been doing so well with sobriety ever since her alcohol poisoning incident.
“What?” she said in response. “I don’t know. Can you guys just . . .” She held up her hand and asked, “Can you guys just help me up?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oh my god. The short walk from Max’s car to the front entrance of Beckman Hall was agony. Her entire body was weak, so she had to take little, wobbly steps. Her eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds, so she couldn’t keep them open and ended up colliding with the bike rack. Her head was pounding—absolutely pounding—so hard that she couldn’t even think straight.
“Good luck,” Max called after her.
She pressed her right hand to her forehead and nodded. She was going to need all the luck she could get, because she hadn’t studied and she was hung-over almost worse than she’d ever been hung-over before. Her body had grown unaccustomed to such heavy drinking, and now it was reacting negatively. How was she going to take this all-important test?
Oh my god, oh my god.
She trudged up the steps, tripping over her own feet a couple of times, and pulled on the door with all her might to open it, but her arms felt like wet noodles. She had absolutely no strength at all. Luckily for her, some guy came along and held the door open for her.
“Thanks,” she muttered, noting the scratchiness of her voice. She was definitely not at her most attractive state. In fact, the looks people gave her as she passed by them in the hallway testified to just how unattractive she looked. She was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants that could easily pass as pajamas. She even had her pajama slippers on! She wasn’t wearing make-up, and her hair was styled—or rather not styled—exactly the way it had been when she’d fallen asleep: a messy side bun that was even messier now that she had slept on it all night. For once, though, she really didn’t care what they thought of her. She just wanted to get her damn test over with.
Her test room was up on the second floor, but she was too tired to walk up the stairs, so she took the elevator with another lazy kid instead. He asked her if she was ready for the final, and she groaned “No,” in response.
She got off the elevator in a daze and accidently walked past her room. She staggered all the way down the hallway before realizing it, then had to turn and walk all the way back. By the time she sat down in the testing room, her professor was already handing out tests.
This was going to be horrible.
Her test booklet landed in front of her with a loud thud. Oh god, she thought, picking it up and testing the feel of it. It was . . . heavy. Or maybe it just felt heavy because she was hung-over. No, it was thick, though. How could a test on the history of dance be so . . . much?
She reached into the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled out the perfectly sharpened pencil Max had made sure to send along with her. She was about to write in her last name on her answer sheet when she realized in a moment of pure horror that . . . she couldn’t see the answer sheet! Or see it well, anyway. It was blurry. Her still semi-drunk eyes couldn’t focus.
Oh, great, she thought, squinting at the answer bubbles. She could see A, B, C, D, and E, but they all kind of blended together. She couldn’t tell where one circle started and another ended. This was just fantastic.
She tried a different tactic then, making her eyes as wide as she possibly could. But that didn’t help, either. She rubbed them, hoping that maybe she just had some sleep in the corners, but . . . nope. No such luck. The fuzzy answer sheet as the result of her binge drinking was . . . well, her own fault.
Dammit, she thought, writing in her name where the letter boxes appeared to be in the top left-hand corner. This sucks so bad.
“You have ninety minutes to complete this final,” her professor—Professor Jackson, whom she’d given a blow job to at the beginning of the semester—said. “Take your time. Double check. Good luck.”
More luck, Maria thought, flipping open her test booklet. Good. That’s the only thing that’s gonna help me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael went to see Liz that afternoon. He thought he probably should. He hadn’t seen her at all yesterday. He’d talked to her on the phone once, and even that had only been a five minute conversation.
The door to her dorm room was open, and she was pacing back and forth inside, talking on her cell phone. Michael leaned against the doorframe and listened in.
“No, seriously, Max, I think it went really well today. I don’t wanna be too hopeful, but I think I got most of the questions right. Your tutoring helped so much.”
Good old tutor Max, Michael thought. The guy could work miracles. And being that Liz had slacked off more than she’d studied during her months of dating him, it was in fact a miracle.
“Well, I do have another final day after tomorrow,” Liz said, “but I could never ask you to help me with that one, too. I mean . . . no, I’d just feel way too selfish. Besides, it’s history, so . . .” She trailed off, smiled when he said something, and said, “What? No way, you’re kidding. Is there any subject you’re not good at?”
Michael kept listening as Liz giggled, made arrangements with Max to meet for more tutoring that night, and then giggled some more.
“Alright, well, Max, I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then, okay? Bye.” Laughing and shaking her head, she closed her phone, then noticed Michael and said, “Oh, hey, sweetie.”
He cringed. “Sweetie?”
She made a face, too. “You’re right. That doesn’t suit you.”
“Damn right.” He stepped into the room and shut the door. “So Max is gonna help you with history, huh?”
“Yeah, he is. Gosh, he’s like the Superman of the academic world.”
“Well, just so long as I’m still Superman of the sex world . . .”
“Oh, you are,” Liz assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Not that I have anything to compare to, but . . . it’s common knowledge.”
“That it is,” he agreed. Maybe that was why Maria had said . . . what she’d said last night. Maybe it wasn’t just her desire. It was a universal desire. Yeah, that was reasonable.
But then again, what did reason have to do with him and Maria? Absolutely nothing.
“Missed you yesterday,” she said. “This is a pleasant surprise, though.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I just . . .” He sighed. “I thought we should talk about this whole us moving in together thing.”
“Oh, right. You know what? I told my parents about that.” She smiled.
“You . . . told your parents?”
“Yeah.”
Not good.
“And I thought they might be a little sad or angry, you know, but they were totally fine with it. In fact, they said they think it’s a really good idea for me to get out of the dorms and get some experience renting an apartment. They think it’ll teach responsibility.” She giggled. “Isn’t that great?”
He laughed nervously and said, “Yeah.” If only she knew the whole invitation to get a place with him was just a response to his spontaneous kiss with Maria. She wouldn’t be half as happy about that.
“Plus, they said it’ll be good for us to live together. You know, it’ll grow and strengthen our relationship. And we’ll get a glimpse of our future together, which, if you ask me, looks pretty bright right about now.”
Again, he laughed nervously. Some of those words . . . relationship . . . future . . . wow. Did Liz know how much she was freaking him out by saying that?
“Anyway,” she said, “what were you gonna say?”
I was gonna say we shouldn’t do it, Liz, he thought. We shouldn’t move in together. But hell, now she’d told her parents. She’d gotten them just as excited as she was. If he backed out now, she would be hurt, and she would ask why he had changed his mind. And she would find out about Maria. And then everything would be more fucked up than it already was.
“I was just gonna say that . . . we should go looking for apartments,” he lied smoothly.
“Oh, yeah, for sure. They’re probably filling up fast with all the other student renters. ASAP, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “ASAP.”
“So, today maybe?” she asked hopefully.
“Uh, sure,” he answered.
“Right now?”
“Uh . . .”
“Great!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After she finished her History of Dance final, Maria fell asleep outside. Literally outside. On the grass, underneath a tree where everyone could see her. She was to the point now that graduation was near that she didn’t care what people thought about her. If they walked by, pointed, laughed, and whispered about her, she was unaffected; because she was tired, hung-over, and distressed about her final. She was asleep long enough to slip into dream land, and in dream land, she dreamt about fuzzy answer sheets.
It was the sound of her cell phone ringing that woke her up. She groaned, forced her eyes open, and wiped at the drool coming out of the side of her mouth. Oh boy, that’s unattractive, she thought.
“Hello?” she said groggily before checking the Caller ID. She prayed it wasn’t her mother again.
“Hi, Maria, it’s Janet.”
Boss, she registered. Fuck. “Janet, hi.”
“Hi. I was just calling to see if you were on your way. It’s almost 3:15, you said you’d be here by 3:00.”
“I did,” Maria remembered. “Right.”
“And dancers are always five minutes early, as you know, so you’re technically twenty minutes late.”
Some dancers are always five minutes early, Maria thought, yawning.
“Maria, you still there?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “Yeah, I’m-I’m here. It’s just . . . I’m kind of stuck in traffic. There’s a . . . a semi-final soccer tournament going on here at the university, so the streets are just packed.” She looked out at the empty road and hoped Janet wouldn’t check the traffic report online.
“Okay, well, will you be here in the next fifteen minutes, do you think?”
Maria laughed nervously and lied. “Yeah, of course.” This was bad. Very bad. She’d forgotten all about her first day of work on account of being unimaginably drunk the night before. She was hung-over now and, in forty-five minutes, was supposed to teach a hip hop dance to little girls. And she hadn’t made up a dance. Fantastic. It was time to improvise.
“Great, so I’ll see you soon?” Janet asked again for clarification.
“Soon,” Maria agreed, forcing herself to stand up. “But I’ll call and let you know if, uh . . . you know, if the traffic just doesn’t clear out. But I’ll be there.”
“Okay. I hope so.”
“I will be,” Maria assured her again. Had she not gotten drunk last night, she would have done better. It was her own fault.
“Okay, bye, Maria.”
“Bye.” She closed her phone and groaned in frustration. “Shit!” She didn’t even have the car. Kyle was at work. He had it. She seriously needed her own car, but how could she afford one if she didn’t go to work? But how could she go to work if she didn’t have a car? It was an ongoing cycle of badness.
She spotted a guy getting into his car and figured he would be easy to coerce. “Hey!” she shouted, running towards him. “Can I get a ride?”
He grinned and said. “Sure thing, baby. You can ride me anytime.”
She rolled her eyes and opened the passenger’s side door. “Not a sexual ride. A car ride, you little freak.” She tossed herself into the seat, slammed the door, and said, “Charisma Dance Studio. Thanks.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael and Liz wound up at the Fairview Apartment Complex that afternoon. It was only about ten minutes away from Michael’s house, and it was the first stop on the Guerin-Parker renting tour. Liz was so excited. Michael . . . wasn’t.
The landlord was an attractive woman in her forties, looked just as enthusiastic as Liz. She led them into apartment number 315B and showed them around.
“You’ve got your kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, and spare room. There’s a walk-in closet in the bedroom, and both a shower and a bathtub in the bathroom. As you can see from a first glance, it’s very well-maintained. The previous tenants only left due to job relocation.”
“Oh my god, Michael,” Liz gasped, walking into the living room, a look of amazement on her face. “It’s beautiful. Oh, and look!” She pointed out the window. “It has a fair view!”
The landlord chuckled. “Hence Fairview Apartments. It seems only fitting, don’t you think?”
Liz laughed, too, and squealed with delight. “Oh my god, I love this. It’s so perfect.”
“Furniture is included,” the landlord informed them. “It’s beautiful and a bargain.”
“How much of a bargain?” Michael asked, curious what a place like this was going to cost.
“Rent is five-hundred dollars a month,” the landlord informed him.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and inhaled sharply, not liking the sound of that.
“Well, that’s not that bad,” Liz said. “Like she said, it’s beautiful. Plus, the furniture . . . and the view. I mean . . . I think it’s worth it.”
Michael made his way towards her, more skeptical. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “You know, there’s apartments you can rent for three-hundred, even two-hundred bucks a month.
“Yeah, but those apartments aren’t as nice,” she said.
“Well . . . alright, I’m no mathematician, but we’re talkin’ six-thousand dollars a year, right?”
Liz nodded. “Right.”
“Yeah, so . . . are you sure you wanna pay six-thousand dollars a year in rent? I mean, how are we gonna pay that?”
“Kyle paid off your guys’ entire mortgage in four years,” Liz pointed out.
“Because he’s Kyle. He does that. And he has a nice, kinda wealthy dad to help him.”
“Look, it could work,” she insisted. “I can work a full-time job this summer instead of taking classes. And you’ll have a job, too, right?”
He shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean, I was thinkin’ about doing some directing, but . . . I could work, too, I guess.”
“Well, you could at least have a part-time job,” she said. “And if we get into trouble, my parents could help us out.”
“No, I’m not gonna ask them for help.”
“Okay, so-so we won’t need to ask them for help, ‘cause we’ll be responsible,” she said.
“Hmm . . .” He had his doubts. He wasn’t a responsible person.
“What’s the matter, Michael?” she asked him. “Don’t you like it?”
“Well, yeah, I like it. I mean . . .” He glanced around, noting the overall look of the place. It was so clean and organized. It wasn’t at all like his house, where clothes were scattered on the floor, and dirty dishes were piled in the sink. It just didn’t feel like home. It was missing something. It was missing . . . a certain blonde girl, especially . . .
“I just think we’re kinda jumping the gun,” he told Liz. “We haven’t even looked anywhere else yet. I just don’t think we should settle.”
“Oh, no, this is not settling,” Liz assured him. “Anything other than this would be settling, because now that I’ve seen It, I want it. I want it more than anything, Michael. I’m in love with it. Please?”
He sighed, feeling himself giving in. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to pay five-hundred dollars a month for this place. He didn’t even want to move out of his current house. But here he was, giving in . . .
The landlord cleared her throat and piped up with, “Did I mention that high-speed internet access and cable TV are included in the rent?”
“Ooh,” Liz said, “even more incentive.” She smiled a big, hopeful smile.
Dammit, Michael thought, realizing that Liz was going to get what she wanted. The girl actually had a knack for that, getting what she wanted. Mostly, he was doing this out of guilt, guilt for kissing Maria. Had it not been for that . . .
“Alright, we’ll take it,” he told the landlord.
Liz squealed and practically jumped into his arms in delight. “Oh, thank you, Michael!” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much!” She gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
“Great,” the landlord said. “I’m sure you’ll both love living here. Let me go ahead and draw up the paperwork. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Paperwork, Michael thought as he watched her walk out the door. Oh, shit, this is really getting official.
“Oh my gosh, how exciting is this?” Liz said, bouncing up and down excitedly. “We have our own place!”
“Well, not yet,” he reminded her. “We still have to sign the paperwork.”
“Well, yeah, but besides that.” She smoothed her hand over the couch cushions and sat down. “Comfy,” she commented. “You know, we should go check out the bedroom, ‘cause, I assume we’re gonna be spending a lot of time there. Right?”
He looked over into the bedroom, at the queen-sized bed, and all he could think about was being in that bed with Maria. Or any bed with Maria. Or, there didn’t even have to be a bed. Just him and Maria and her . . . needing him inside of her. And him obliging.
Oh god.
“Michael?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we’ll . . . in the bedroom. Right. Um . . .” He sat down beside Liz on the couch and said gently, “You know, I think maybe we shouldn’t move in here until after the semester ends. ‘Cause, you know, there’s no point paying that five-hundred dollar a month rent any sooner than we have to. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, that’s a good point.”
“Yeah, so . . . plus, your parents pay for your dorm room, right? So . . . after I graduate. After the semester’s over . . . we can move in then.” God, I’m a fuckin’ stuttering moron, he thought. How could Liz not tell that something was up with him? He was stumbling over all his words, acting strange. Like Alex. Unlike himself.
“Sounds like a plan,” Liz said. “That’s not too far away.”
“Right. Oh, and uh . . . can you do me one small favor and maybe not tell Max and Maria about this yet? ‘Cause I’ve already told Kyle, but not them.”
“Sure,” Liz said. “But I doubt they’re gonna mind. I mean, with Kyle moving out and you moving out, that means they’ll now have that house all to themselves. And you just know they’re gonna use it.”
“Huh,” Michael said, the image in his mind suddenly shifting from him and Maria in bed to Max and Maria in bed. He felt a tinge of jealousy, and he wasn’t used to feeling that way. Hell, it was more than a tinge.
Shit.
“They’ll have that house all to themselves,” Liz repeated, “and Kyle and Tess will have their house all to themselves, and Isabel and Alex already have his apartment all to themselves, and you and I will have our fabulous new apartment all to ourselves. Everything’s working out perfectly.”
Oh, yeah, ‘cause I kissed my best friend, and that’s just perfect, he thought to himself.
She draped her arms over his shoulders, smiling, and said, “This was a great idea.” She leaned in and kissed him then, and he kissed her back, because that was what she expected him to do. He was relieved when the landlord walked back in with the papers in her hand, but not so relieved when he signed them.
What the hell am I doing?
TBC . . .
-April
Sorry about that!
Anyway, remember that there will be an update TOMORROW, too! Thanks again, guys.