Part 68
Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2017 4:43 pm
Part 68
Max double-checked the grocery list Maria had written out for him as he made his way to the check-out counters. This wasn’t one of his usual errands—he usually handled things like trips to the hardware store or the auto garage—but Maria seemed to have less time on her hands lately, and he volunteered to help her out, stop by the store and pick up all their food items for her. Not that there were many. She’d done a good job of stocking up.
He wheeled his cart into what seemed to be the shortest line, and there buying a twelve-pack and a bag of popcorn was none other than Maria’s boss. Max recognized him right away.
“Hey, Brody,” he said, waving. “Max. Maria’s boyfriend. We met at the housing party.”
“Oh, I remember,” Brody said as he held up five fingers for the clerk. “How are you?”
“Doin’ alright.” Max chuckled as the clerk handed Brody five scratch-off lottery tickets, each of which was probably a losing one.
“Gotta play to win,” Brody said, pocketing the cards.
“That’s right,” Max agreed, thinking he might splurge and buy himself a couple. Why not? He used to be a pretty lucky guy. Maybe he’d get the big winner.
“So did you watch the Spurs game the other night?” Brody asked while the clerk scanned and sacked his items for him.
“No, I had to take care of some stuff with . . . my son,” Max said, trying to push that night out of his mind.
“It was good,” Brody said. “High-scoring.”
“Those are always the best.” He would have loved to have been able to just sit and watch that game, preferably to watch it with Dylan, but his son’s interest in basketball was almost non-existent, and after his meltdown about potentially taking swimming lessons . . . the game just hadn’t seemed that important anymore.
“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you,” Max said, feeling like there was something they needed to discuss, something beyond basketball. “I actually needed to ask you something.”
“Go right ahead,” Brody urged as he handed his debit card over to the clerk.
“Well, it’s . . . it’s Maria’s work schedule,” Max started in. “She’s probably too polite to say anything herself, but it just seems to me that she’s workin’ a lot lately. Like more than she used to. And I know she likes the job, so she probably doesn’t mind, but . . . I don’t know, I just feel like I barely ever see her.” He wasn’t trying to whine or complain, but he had to say something. Because it wasn’t just him that was missing her; it was Dylan, too.
“That’s odd,” Brody said, wrinkling his face as he punched in his PIN number. “I don’t think I’ve increased her hours.”
“I think it’s just ‘cause she’s been workin’ so many late nights,” Max said. “I mean, I know someone’s gotta do it, but maybe it could be someone who doesn’t have a son at home to take care of.” If everyone who worked at the housing department was a student, surely there were plenty of other options.
“I don’t schedule Maria for nights,” Brody told him. “She was perfectly clear when I hired her that she couldn’t do that, so I just schedule her during the day.”
Max frowned, confused. “So she hasn’t been working late these past few weeks?”
“Nope,” Brody said, taking his debit card back from the clerk, “not that I’m aware of.”
Max’s frown intensified as he struggled to understand. If Maria hadn’t been working late, then what had she been doing?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Ugh, I hate doing dishes,” Maria groaned, handing another plate over to Max to dry off.
“We need to fix the dishwasher,” he said.
“Do we have enough money for that?”
“We should,” he said, thoroughly toweling off the plate before putting it back up in the cabinet with the others, “with all the hours you’ve been puttin’ in lately.”
She looked away from him and stared down at the silverware in the sink, pretending to be all focused on using the scrub brush to get it them all clean.
“Maria, I have to ask you about that,” he said quietly.
“About what?” she asked, trying not to tense up.
“Work. Your work,” he clarified.
Oh, crap, she thought, not at all liking the sound of this. Max had seemed sort of out of it all night, not really talking to her as much as he usually did. Even Dylan had noticed it. At the dinner table, he’d asked him what was wrong, but Max had just shrugged and said it was nothing.
It definitely seemed like something now.
“What about my work?” she asked, removing her hands from the sink. She dried them off quickly, hoping they wouldn’t start shaking.
“Well, see, I ran into Brody at the store today,” he revealed, “and I kinda got confused.”
Oh, god. Oh, god. Her heart was starting to pound, but she managed a soft smile and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I asked him about your schedule--”
“You asked him about my work schedule?” she cut in. “Max, why did you do that? I don’t wanna get fired or anything.”
“No, he’s—he’s not gonna fire you. I was just asking,” Max assured her. “He said he’s still scheduling you during the day. So . . .”
Maria’s stomach clenched as her mind raced, trying to figure out a way to explain herself.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, “I guess I’m just wondering what the deal is, ‘cause you’ve had so many late nights.”
She knew she couldn’t very well change her story now. She said she’d been at work, so that was what she needed to stick with. “Yeah, I’ve pulled some double shifts,” she lied.
“But you weren’t scheduled.”
“No. No, but . . . a lot of people have been sick lately,” she went on, hoping the lie sounded as smooth as it felt. “And a lot of them have a really tough class load, so when they need someone to fill in, I figure it’s the least I can do.”
“So . . . you’re working extra?” Max made a face.
“Yeah.”
“And Brody doesn’t know about it?”
“Well . . .” Fuck. “We have these time sheets, you know, so he probably just didn’t look at mine very closely.”
“But you’re gettin’ paid extra?” Max asked.
“Yeah, it counts as, like, overtime.”
“Oh.” Max nodded, seemingly accepting that as an explanation. For now, at least. “That’s good then. When do you get paid?”
“Soon,” she replied. “Tomorrow, I think.”
“You think?”
“Tomorrow,” she confirmed, even though she’d already gotten paid. She got a check every week, and it was a good time Max never saw it, because there was absolutely no overtime income added onto it. She’d have to collect a little extra cash by tomorrow, just so her story seemed more plausible.
“I guess it’s nice to have the extra money,” he said.
“To fix the dishwasher,” she added light-heartedly.
He smiled at her, nudging the defunct machine with his knee. “You don’t have to work so much, though,” he assured her. “If we need more money, I can pick up my hours.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she dismissed. “I like my job.” And by that, she of course meant that she liked having sex with Michael. A lot. The thought of not being able to do it so frequently was a forlorn one.
“I like it when you’re here,” he said quietly, as though he didn’t want her to truly hear any of the insecurity in his words.
She nodded slowly, wishing she could promise him that she would be at home more often, that she wouldn’t have so many late nights. But something inside just wouldn’t allow her to do that, not as long as Michael liked having her around, too. As long as they could be together, even if it was just in secret . . . it was like nothing else mattered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“One-twenty, thirty, forty, fifty,” Michael counted as he laid a stack of bills in the palm of Maria’s hand. “That’s all I got.”
“That helps,” she said, closing her hand around the cash. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”
“You don’t have to.” It wasn’t like he’d spend that money on anything good anyway. Just food and condoms. And he already had a stock supply of the latter.
“No, I do,” she insisted, stuffing the money in her back pocket. “Otherwise I’m like a prostitute, getting paid for my services. Although . . .” She smiled wryly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Hey . . .” He didn’t like her even thinking about that, let alone joking about it.
“Sorry,” she said. “Dark humor.”
He sat down on his couch, pulling her down on top of his lap. “I’m not paying you for sex,” he said.
“No. You’re just giving me money to wave in front of my boyfriend’s face so I can perpetuate my lies.” She looped her arms around his neck, eyes downcast. “Either way it’s bad.”
“Well, here’s a novel idea: You could tell him the truth,” he suggested, reaching his hands behind her to cup and squeeze her ass. “I hear it sets you free.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “That’s not an option right now.”
“Right now?” That wasn’t so bad. That at least gave him hope. “When will it be an option?”
“I don’t know,” she groaned, pouting. “Can you just kiss me or something?”
He grinned, always willing to fulfill that request. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers, letting his tongue dart out to caress hers a few times before he pulled her body closer to his and kissed his way down to her neck instead.
“Oh, I need better excuses,” she moaned, rolling her hips into his. “He’s getting suspicious. I’ve ‘worked really late’ really often these past few weeks. I can’t keep doing that.”
“Then what’re you gonna do?” he mumbled, nibbling and sucking on her pulse point.
“I don’t know.”
“Cut back on your time with me?” He lifted his head, really hoping that wasn’t her solution. All this sex they’d been having wasn’t making him want it any less. If anything, he just wanted more and more.
“No,” she said, smiling adorably.
“No?” Thank God, he thought. Nowadays, he felt like he was going crazy if he wasn’t touching her.
“I can’t stop,” she said, her voice full of passion and longing as her groin rubbed right against his, right against the straining hardness in his pants.
I can’t, either, he thought, gazing at her with intrigue. This was supposed to have just been a quick visit today, because he had psych class in about . . . two minutes. But there was no way he was going to make it there now. “Ride me,” he told her, his voice husky with desire. He wanted his girl to hop on his cock and use his body for her own satisfaction. He wanted to watch her work for it, feel her sweat.
Maria definitely didn’t need to be told twice. One second her hands were on his shoulders. The next, they were working feverishly to undo his jeans.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As Isabel trotted down the stairs, she heard Courtney call her name from the kitchen. “Isabel, come here.”
For a second, she thought about just walking out that door, pretending she hadn’t heard her, but she waited for one second too long, and in that second, she changed her mind. “Hey,” she said, sauntering into the kitchen, not at all surprised to find Courtney sitting on the counter in nothing but Eric’s t-shirt. “I actually have to leave. I’m late to meet someone.”
“Who? A guy?” Courtney wriggled her tongue suggestively.
“Yes, actually.” Although the only thing Alex would be doing with his tongue was talking to her.
“Does Jesse know?”
“It’s not like that. He’s . . . kind of like a professor,” she explained.
Courtney gave her a knowing look. “Oh, so it’s one of those meetings.”
“No, it’s not like that, either.” She’d learned her lesson at Princeton. No way was she getting kicked out of college again. “He’s looking over my novel.”
“You wrote a novel?” Courtney twisted around and reached into the cookie jar, taking out an Oreo that must have been in there for a while, because it crumbled in her hands the moment she grasped it.
“I’m still writing it, technically,” Isabel said. “I really have to go.”
“What’s it about?” Courtney chomped away on her cookie, this amused gleam in her eyes. “Is it sexy?”
Sexy . . . really wasn’t the right word for it. “It’s graphic,” Isabel replied vaguely.
“Well, I’d totally read it . . . if I didn’t hate reading.” Courtney laughed and rolled her eyes.
“I gotta go,” Isabel repeated, turning.
“Hey, wait a minute.”
Once again, she stopped, growing evermore frustrated. If Courtney was just bored and wanted to hang out . . . she really wasn’t in the mood for it. “What?” she groaned impatiently.
Courtney brushed the crumbs off her hands and slid down off the counter. “Okay, so I overheard Jesse and Eric talking, and I thought I should just give you the heads up before they talk to you,” she started in.
Oh, great, this didn’t sound good. “About what?”
“Your website, Isabel. It’s not making money. You’re losing advertisers and subscribers. You gotta do something unexpected, something edgy.”
“What, like a gangbang?” Isabel grunted, repulsed by the thought. No way. There were just some lines she wouldn’t cross.
Courtney shrugged as if it were no big deal. “It’s really not so bad,” she said, “if all the guys are nice.”
And the porn industry was so full of nice, wholesome guys, wasn’t it? “Were they all nice with you?” Isabel asked challengingly.
Her friend didn’t answer, and the silence said it all.
“I don’t care about my website, Courtney,” Isabel declared, very much over it right now. “I just . . . don’t care.” She flapped her arms against her sides, spun on her heel, and walked out the front door. So what if she was losing subscribers, losing advertisers, losing money in general? In the long run, it actually felt like she was winning something in return.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Maria was only stopping by the Student Union for a cup of coffee when she saw her: Sarah. She was sitting outside by the fountain, her feet in the water, her head in a book. She had sunglasses on, but Maria could tell it was her. She was so absorbed in whatever she was reading that she didn’t glance up, didn’t seem to realize anyone was watching her.
Maria stopped at the rotating doors in front of the Union, debating whether or not she should approach her. It wouldn’t be so easy to strike up a conversation anymore, not that it had ever come naturally to her or anything. What was she supposed to do, apologize for sleeping with Michael and breaking up their engagement? Thank her for keeping their secret from Max? Either one seemed bound to get a repulsed reaction.
Despite all her second-guessing, it felt like the right thing to do to at least say something, so Maria took a step forward. Before she could get anywhere, though, a warm hand gripped her arm and pulled her back.
“I wouldn’t,” Michael said.
She glanced down at his hand on her arm, immediately wishing it was someplace else. “I just thought I could go talk to her,” she said weakly, her resolve to do so quickly fading.
“It’s not gonna make her feel any better,” he told her, gently tugging on her arm. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, finding it hard to think about Sarah when he was standing so close to her.
He grinned and replied, “Someplace where I can make you feel better.”
And there it was again, that breathless feeling that he always seemed to know how to produce in her. She took one more glance back at Sarah before giving in to Michael’s simple seduction.
She followed him down to the bookstore, which sold a lot more than books these days. It was full of Aggie memorabilia, from posters and other decorations to clothing. She’d purchased plenty of shirts there at the start of the school year, though there had been no need to slip into the dressing rooms to try any of them on. But that was where they were heading now. She was sure of it.
Quiet as mice, they slipped inside. Michael hastily shut the door and slid the lock into place. The door went all the way down to the floor, so no one would know they were in there together. As long as they managed to keep quiet.
Easier said than done, she thought, gasping as he pushed her back against the wall. She hadn’t planned to meet him here, hadn’t planned to have sex with him right now, but the pure spontaneity of it all made it even more exciting.
His mouth occupied hers expertly while his hands dove in between them to tug her black leggings down over her hips. Maybe she’d had a guttural feeling that she’d run into him, because she hadn’t worn any underwear today. She kicked off her sandals and helped push the garment down further, so that it was around her knees. She tried to spread her legs, but it was too constricting until, with a low growl, he bent down and dragged her leggings all the way down to her ankles. She stepped out with one foot and lifted that leg up to wrap around his waist. Grinning mischievously, though, he sunk down to his knees, apparently with other ideas in mind.
“Oh my god,” she whispered in a rush when his mouth came into contact with her pussy. No tender kisses, nips, or nuzzles. It was a full blown oral assault right from the start, and she was more than willing to give into it.
He lifted her left leg up to drape over his shoulder, and it gave her the perfect angle to roll her hips forward and back, grinding herself against his face. His tongue tickled and tantalized, just like it was supposed to, and she swore she’d be cumming in no time. Maybe that was the point.
“Oh, Michael,” she moaned as her fist slammed back against the wall.
He stopped his ministrations momentarily and peered up at her with a playfully sexy gleam in his eyes. “Shh,” he teased.
Not wanting him to stop, she grabbed a clump of his hair and pushed his face forward again, right between her legs. He gave her a few more licks, but that was it before he stood up, his hands already pushing aside his own belt buckle. His pants were down to his knees in mere seconds, and then his hands were underneath her ass, lifting her up so that she was in the perfect position for him to shove his dick into her.
She couldn’t help but cry out, because he started to go hard right from the start. At first he tried to just hold her up rather than using the wall for any additional support, probably in an effort to reduce the noise they were making. But that idea quickly fell by the wayside, and he slammed her back against it so he could really pound her. Her legs wrapped around his waist tightly while her hands scrunched up his shirt and held on for dear life. Somehow, she managed to get herself quiet, but it didn’t matter much, because every time his hips pressed forward, her ass slammed back into the wall, making an unmistakable, rhythmic sound. If anyone walked by, surely it would be no secret what they were doing. And it was supposed to be a secret.
Right now, it felt too good to care.
“I want you to cum,” he whispered in her ear, all of his words blending together. He moved both his hands beneath her knees so he could get a good grip on her legs. He moved them both out to the sides so that she was spread open even more to him and he could fuck her harder.
“Oh god, please,” she begged, looking down between them to try to watch. It wasn’t very often that she got to see it happening, got to watch him sliding in and out of her. And she couldn’t even see it very well now, but she could see the next best thing.
Turning her head to the side, she watched their reflections in the full-length dressing room mirror. It was a complete turn-on seeing herself get fucked. They looked primal together, animalistic, like they weren’t just doing this because they wanted to anymore, but because they had to. Because they’d go crazy if they didn’t.
He gave a few more deep, hard thrusts that rattled her to the core, and the physical feelings combined with the reflective peepshow sent her over the edge. She had to bite back a scream as she came, clenching her eyes shut and tossing her head backward as it electrified her. He reached his own orgasm a few more thrusts later, as if he’d just been holding out until she got there first.
It all felt so damn good.
He was still inside her, though neither one of them were moving anymore, when there was a knock on the door. “Excuse me?” a woman’s voice said. “Is everything alright in there?”
Michael started to chuckle lightly, but Maria whacked his shoulder to shut him up. “Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, she answered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
They waited a few seconds until whoever was on the other side sounded like they were shuffling away, and then Michael slipped out of her and set her down on her own two feet again. “Did you like that?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.
“Yeah,” she confessed, looking down at his still semi-hard cock. Part of her wanted to get down on her knees and suck it, return the favor that he’d paid to her. But he’d already cum, and it would probably be too sensitive for that right now. Besides, they really had to get out of that dressing room before anyone came knocking again.
As he pulled his jeans back up and fastened them, he said, “You know, we might have to squeeze in more quickies if we can’t have as many late nights.”
“It’s bad, though,” she said, sure that he probably had more important things to be doing right now. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Screw class,” he mumbled. “I’d rather be screwing you.”
Well . . . he’d certainly done that. But class mattered, too, and she hated that his grades were suffering because of how preoccupied he was with her.
He squatted down and picked her leggings up off the floor, handing them to her. “You comin’ over later then?” he asked.
She would have loved to, but with Max’s recent suspicions, it just didn’t seem like a good idea. “I can’t,” she said, tugging her clothes back on. “I have to go home tonight.”
“So when am I gonna see you?”
“Maybe . . .” She straightened all her clothes and her hair out, thinking through their limited options. There was one that stood out, though, seemed particularly appealing. “This weekend,” she decided.
“When?”
“The whole weekend.”
His eyes lit up with intrigue.
“Yeah, Max and I were planning on taking Dylan to Roswell to see my mom and Diane,” she explained, “but I can just pretend I’m sick or something, and Max can just take him alone.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s not like I’m dying to see my mom or anything.”
Smirking, he moved in closer for a hungry kiss. “Sounds perfect,” he murmured against her lips. “We can just . . .”
Visions of the two of them tangled up in sheets and in each other danced through her head. “We can just,” she agreed, pressing her forehead against his. As intensely passionate as this frantic, rushed sex had been, this weekend would offer them more time. Time to draw it out, go slow, pay attention to every single inch of each other’s bodies. This weekend, they wouldn’t just have to fuck. They could make love.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
While she was in the midst of trying to make sense of organic chemistry, a shadow fell over Sarah’s textbook.
“Ew, studying,” Tess said. “I really don’t miss doing that.”
Sarah smiled and closed her book, all too happy to be done with it for now. “Hey, Tess,” she said, getting to her feet. “Coffee?”
Tess nodded affirmatively. “Coffee.”
They went inside the union, stopped by the Starbucks counter, and then sat down at one of the open tables, where Sarah made sure to say, “Thanks for spending time with me today.”
“It’s not like it’s a chore,” Tess said as she sipped some of the foam off the top of her caramel macchiato.
“Well, I know I’m not exactly the most exciting person to hang out with these days,” Sarah acknowledged. Even though she wasn’t allowing herself to sink down into a black hole of depression or anything, she still felt pretty down in the dumps pretty often. It was hard to try to be . . . cheerful. About anything.
“Well, that works out well, because I’m not too exciting to hang out with, either,” Tess said, smirking. “Hey, wanna go shopping after this? You can buy all the clothes I’m too big to fit into.”
Sarah chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds fun.” She really didn’t need any more clothes in her closet, but it would be fun just to browse. “Can I talk to you about something first, though?” she asked. Before they made any effort to be lighthearted, there was something weighing on her, something she had to discuss.
“Sure,” Tess said. “What is it?”
“Well . . .” She trailed off, sighing, dreading this conversation. But it was one they needed to have. She decided to ease into it gently. “End of the semester’s coming up, and I’m not taking summer classes this year.”
“Good for you. Enjoy your summer.”
“That’s the plan.” It certainly wasn’t going to be the summer she’d envisioned—no wedding or anything like that—but it could still be nice in its own way. “Actually, I was thinking I might—I might go home to Las Cruces this summer,” she announced.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Tess said. “Save money, spend time with your family.”
Inwardly, she cringed, clarifying, “And then I was thinking I might just . . . stay there.”
Realization swept across Tess’s face, and she quieted down. “Oh.” As she thought about it for a few more seconds, it seemed to dawn on her just what a big change that would be. “Oh. You mean, like, transferring?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s a bigger school. More classes.” Less Michael, she thought, hating that he was a big part of her motivation for this. “I think it might be a good fit.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it—it might be,” Tess stammered, trying to smile supportively.
“It’s just an idea,” Sarah assured her. “Nothing’s set in stone at this point.” She still had a month to figure out what was in her best interest. If Carlsbad was the right place for her to be, then she wouldn’t leave. But if she’d be better off in Las Cruces, then . . .
“I know it’d be awful timing,” she said, “what with the twins on the way and all.”
“Hayden and Haley.” Tess smiled fondly. “That’s what we’re naming them.”
Hayden and Haley, Sarah thought. They would probably be perfect children, blessed with all sorts of amazing talents and abilities. They’d be smart and adorable and all the things that Kyle and Tess were. She wanted to know them, but if she left town, would that still be possible? “Look, I know I’m supposed to be their godmother, and it would be such an honor,” she said. “But if you wanna pick someone else just in case I don’t end up being around so much, I would understand.”
“What?” Tess made a face and immediately dismissed that idea. “No. No. You’re their godmother, no matter what.” Reaching across the table, she squeezed Sarah’s hand assuring. “You’re my best friend. And I don’t care if you’re in Carlsbad, Las Cruces, or Fargo, North Dakota for crying out loud. You’re always gonna be my best friend.”
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She’d expected as much, but still, it felt nice to hear it. “Like I said, it’s just an idea at this point.”
“Well, if that’s what you decide to do . . .” Tess blinked back tears, but she managed to hold it together. “I’d miss you. But I’d support you.”
Of course you would, Sarah thought. Tess was still a cheerleader, even if she didn’t wear the uniform anymore. She supported people, encouraged them. Until they fell out of her good graces, anyway, like Michael had.
“It’s not like I’m trying to run away from everything that happened here,” Sarah said, feeling the need to explain herself. “It’s just . . . it’s been a lot to deal with, and I think I might just need a fresh start.” It was ironic, she was aware, that Las Cruces seemed fresh; after all, her whole reason for choosing Carlsbad had been to get out on her own, have some independence, even if it meant a slightly longer commute back home. But right now . . . home just seemed so inviting, and she would have done anything to be back there with her family, with people who loved her no matter what. Because obviously Michael hadn’t been one of those people.
“Can I ask you something?” Tess requested quietly.
Sarah nodded.
Tess leaned in, her voice dropping almost to a whisper when she inquired, “Do you miss Michael?”
She could have lied, and part of her wanted to lie, just to seem stronger than she actually was. But this was her best friend sitting across from her. No need to lie to her. “Every single day,” she admitted, letting the hurt linger. Even worse than missing him, however, was the agonizing suspicion that he didn’t miss her nearly as much in return.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael felt like he had an extra bounce in his step as he headed to Lecuona Hall for Music Appreciation that Friday, not because he was particularly excited about the class or anything, but because he was excited to see Maria. The plan wasn’t to have sex with her after class today; no, instead, he was just going to flirt with her, get her all hot and bothered so that, when they hooked up later tonight, she’d be begging for it.
“Yo, chico.”
He grinned as Fly caught up to him. “Hey, man,” he said. It felt like it’d been forever since he’d seen this kid.
“Hey,” Fly returned, walking alongside him. “What’s up, man? I ain’t even seen you lately.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just busy.”
“You busy this weekend?”
“This weekend?” Michael echoed. His plans were this weekend were set. In stone. “Uh, maybe. Why?”
“I was just thinkin’ about havin’ some people over,” Fly explained. “You know, fiesta.”
“With strippers?” Michael guessed.
“Hell, yeah, with strippers,” Fly eagerly confirmed. “You in?”
He chuckled inwardly, because the only girl he wanted to watch take her clothes off would take her clothes off for him. This weekend. All weekend. “Uh, well, the last stripper you booked was my ex-girlfriend,” he reminded Fly, “so I’ll pass.”
“No, I won’t get her,” Fly assured him. “I could get an Asian chick.”
Michael shot him a warning glare.
“Sorry, bad joke,” Fly apologized quickly. “Come on, man, it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, I know, but . . .” He also knew it wouldn’t even compare to the fun he and Maria were going to have. He had virtually no interest in watching any other girl undress right now. None whatsoever. “I can’t. I got stuff to do.”
“Like what?” Fly prodded.
“Studying.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, for real.” That was probably what he should have been doing. “My grades suck this semester.”
Fly sighed in resignation. “Alright, well . . . stop by Saturday if you get bored.”
“Yeah, I will,” Michael said, even though he knew there was no way he would get bored. “Later, Fly.” He picked up the pace as Lecuona Hall came into view, eager to get in there and see his girl.
“Yo, Mike,” Fly called after him.
He swiveled around.
In a rare moment of seriousness, Fly looked right at him and said, “I know you’re busy and all, but don’t forget to hang out with your friends once in a while.”
My friends, Michael thought, nodding slowly. Right. They were important, too, and he didn’t mean to make them feel unimportant. But it was just that . . . given the choice to hang out with them or hang out with Maria, there was obviously no decision to be made.
TBC . . .
-April
Max double-checked the grocery list Maria had written out for him as he made his way to the check-out counters. This wasn’t one of his usual errands—he usually handled things like trips to the hardware store or the auto garage—but Maria seemed to have less time on her hands lately, and he volunteered to help her out, stop by the store and pick up all their food items for her. Not that there were many. She’d done a good job of stocking up.
He wheeled his cart into what seemed to be the shortest line, and there buying a twelve-pack and a bag of popcorn was none other than Maria’s boss. Max recognized him right away.
“Hey, Brody,” he said, waving. “Max. Maria’s boyfriend. We met at the housing party.”
“Oh, I remember,” Brody said as he held up five fingers for the clerk. “How are you?”
“Doin’ alright.” Max chuckled as the clerk handed Brody five scratch-off lottery tickets, each of which was probably a losing one.
“Gotta play to win,” Brody said, pocketing the cards.
“That’s right,” Max agreed, thinking he might splurge and buy himself a couple. Why not? He used to be a pretty lucky guy. Maybe he’d get the big winner.
“So did you watch the Spurs game the other night?” Brody asked while the clerk scanned and sacked his items for him.
“No, I had to take care of some stuff with . . . my son,” Max said, trying to push that night out of his mind.
“It was good,” Brody said. “High-scoring.”
“Those are always the best.” He would have loved to have been able to just sit and watch that game, preferably to watch it with Dylan, but his son’s interest in basketball was almost non-existent, and after his meltdown about potentially taking swimming lessons . . . the game just hadn’t seemed that important anymore.
“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you,” Max said, feeling like there was something they needed to discuss, something beyond basketball. “I actually needed to ask you something.”
“Go right ahead,” Brody urged as he handed his debit card over to the clerk.
“Well, it’s . . . it’s Maria’s work schedule,” Max started in. “She’s probably too polite to say anything herself, but it just seems to me that she’s workin’ a lot lately. Like more than she used to. And I know she likes the job, so she probably doesn’t mind, but . . . I don’t know, I just feel like I barely ever see her.” He wasn’t trying to whine or complain, but he had to say something. Because it wasn’t just him that was missing her; it was Dylan, too.
“That’s odd,” Brody said, wrinkling his face as he punched in his PIN number. “I don’t think I’ve increased her hours.”
“I think it’s just ‘cause she’s been workin’ so many late nights,” Max said. “I mean, I know someone’s gotta do it, but maybe it could be someone who doesn’t have a son at home to take care of.” If everyone who worked at the housing department was a student, surely there were plenty of other options.
“I don’t schedule Maria for nights,” Brody told him. “She was perfectly clear when I hired her that she couldn’t do that, so I just schedule her during the day.”
Max frowned, confused. “So she hasn’t been working late these past few weeks?”
“Nope,” Brody said, taking his debit card back from the clerk, “not that I’m aware of.”
Max’s frown intensified as he struggled to understand. If Maria hadn’t been working late, then what had she been doing?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Ugh, I hate doing dishes,” Maria groaned, handing another plate over to Max to dry off.
“We need to fix the dishwasher,” he said.
“Do we have enough money for that?”
“We should,” he said, thoroughly toweling off the plate before putting it back up in the cabinet with the others, “with all the hours you’ve been puttin’ in lately.”
She looked away from him and stared down at the silverware in the sink, pretending to be all focused on using the scrub brush to get it them all clean.
“Maria, I have to ask you about that,” he said quietly.
“About what?” she asked, trying not to tense up.
“Work. Your work,” he clarified.
Oh, crap, she thought, not at all liking the sound of this. Max had seemed sort of out of it all night, not really talking to her as much as he usually did. Even Dylan had noticed it. At the dinner table, he’d asked him what was wrong, but Max had just shrugged and said it was nothing.
It definitely seemed like something now.
“What about my work?” she asked, removing her hands from the sink. She dried them off quickly, hoping they wouldn’t start shaking.
“Well, see, I ran into Brody at the store today,” he revealed, “and I kinda got confused.”
Oh, god. Oh, god. Her heart was starting to pound, but she managed a soft smile and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I asked him about your schedule--”
“You asked him about my work schedule?” she cut in. “Max, why did you do that? I don’t wanna get fired or anything.”
“No, he’s—he’s not gonna fire you. I was just asking,” Max assured her. “He said he’s still scheduling you during the day. So . . .”
Maria’s stomach clenched as her mind raced, trying to figure out a way to explain herself.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, “I guess I’m just wondering what the deal is, ‘cause you’ve had so many late nights.”
She knew she couldn’t very well change her story now. She said she’d been at work, so that was what she needed to stick with. “Yeah, I’ve pulled some double shifts,” she lied.
“But you weren’t scheduled.”
“No. No, but . . . a lot of people have been sick lately,” she went on, hoping the lie sounded as smooth as it felt. “And a lot of them have a really tough class load, so when they need someone to fill in, I figure it’s the least I can do.”
“So . . . you’re working extra?” Max made a face.
“Yeah.”
“And Brody doesn’t know about it?”
“Well . . .” Fuck. “We have these time sheets, you know, so he probably just didn’t look at mine very closely.”
“But you’re gettin’ paid extra?” Max asked.
“Yeah, it counts as, like, overtime.”
“Oh.” Max nodded, seemingly accepting that as an explanation. For now, at least. “That’s good then. When do you get paid?”
“Soon,” she replied. “Tomorrow, I think.”
“You think?”
“Tomorrow,” she confirmed, even though she’d already gotten paid. She got a check every week, and it was a good time Max never saw it, because there was absolutely no overtime income added onto it. She’d have to collect a little extra cash by tomorrow, just so her story seemed more plausible.
“I guess it’s nice to have the extra money,” he said.
“To fix the dishwasher,” she added light-heartedly.
He smiled at her, nudging the defunct machine with his knee. “You don’t have to work so much, though,” he assured her. “If we need more money, I can pick up my hours.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she dismissed. “I like my job.” And by that, she of course meant that she liked having sex with Michael. A lot. The thought of not being able to do it so frequently was a forlorn one.
“I like it when you’re here,” he said quietly, as though he didn’t want her to truly hear any of the insecurity in his words.
She nodded slowly, wishing she could promise him that she would be at home more often, that she wouldn’t have so many late nights. But something inside just wouldn’t allow her to do that, not as long as Michael liked having her around, too. As long as they could be together, even if it was just in secret . . . it was like nothing else mattered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“One-twenty, thirty, forty, fifty,” Michael counted as he laid a stack of bills in the palm of Maria’s hand. “That’s all I got.”
“That helps,” she said, closing her hand around the cash. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”
“You don’t have to.” It wasn’t like he’d spend that money on anything good anyway. Just food and condoms. And he already had a stock supply of the latter.
“No, I do,” she insisted, stuffing the money in her back pocket. “Otherwise I’m like a prostitute, getting paid for my services. Although . . .” She smiled wryly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Hey . . .” He didn’t like her even thinking about that, let alone joking about it.
“Sorry,” she said. “Dark humor.”
He sat down on his couch, pulling her down on top of his lap. “I’m not paying you for sex,” he said.
“No. You’re just giving me money to wave in front of my boyfriend’s face so I can perpetuate my lies.” She looped her arms around his neck, eyes downcast. “Either way it’s bad.”
“Well, here’s a novel idea: You could tell him the truth,” he suggested, reaching his hands behind her to cup and squeeze her ass. “I hear it sets you free.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “That’s not an option right now.”
“Right now?” That wasn’t so bad. That at least gave him hope. “When will it be an option?”
“I don’t know,” she groaned, pouting. “Can you just kiss me or something?”
He grinned, always willing to fulfill that request. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers, letting his tongue dart out to caress hers a few times before he pulled her body closer to his and kissed his way down to her neck instead.
“Oh, I need better excuses,” she moaned, rolling her hips into his. “He’s getting suspicious. I’ve ‘worked really late’ really often these past few weeks. I can’t keep doing that.”
“Then what’re you gonna do?” he mumbled, nibbling and sucking on her pulse point.
“I don’t know.”
“Cut back on your time with me?” He lifted his head, really hoping that wasn’t her solution. All this sex they’d been having wasn’t making him want it any less. If anything, he just wanted more and more.
“No,” she said, smiling adorably.
“No?” Thank God, he thought. Nowadays, he felt like he was going crazy if he wasn’t touching her.
“I can’t stop,” she said, her voice full of passion and longing as her groin rubbed right against his, right against the straining hardness in his pants.
I can’t, either, he thought, gazing at her with intrigue. This was supposed to have just been a quick visit today, because he had psych class in about . . . two minutes. But there was no way he was going to make it there now. “Ride me,” he told her, his voice husky with desire. He wanted his girl to hop on his cock and use his body for her own satisfaction. He wanted to watch her work for it, feel her sweat.
Maria definitely didn’t need to be told twice. One second her hands were on his shoulders. The next, they were working feverishly to undo his jeans.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As Isabel trotted down the stairs, she heard Courtney call her name from the kitchen. “Isabel, come here.”
For a second, she thought about just walking out that door, pretending she hadn’t heard her, but she waited for one second too long, and in that second, she changed her mind. “Hey,” she said, sauntering into the kitchen, not at all surprised to find Courtney sitting on the counter in nothing but Eric’s t-shirt. “I actually have to leave. I’m late to meet someone.”
“Who? A guy?” Courtney wriggled her tongue suggestively.
“Yes, actually.” Although the only thing Alex would be doing with his tongue was talking to her.
“Does Jesse know?”
“It’s not like that. He’s . . . kind of like a professor,” she explained.
Courtney gave her a knowing look. “Oh, so it’s one of those meetings.”
“No, it’s not like that, either.” She’d learned her lesson at Princeton. No way was she getting kicked out of college again. “He’s looking over my novel.”
“You wrote a novel?” Courtney twisted around and reached into the cookie jar, taking out an Oreo that must have been in there for a while, because it crumbled in her hands the moment she grasped it.
“I’m still writing it, technically,” Isabel said. “I really have to go.”
“What’s it about?” Courtney chomped away on her cookie, this amused gleam in her eyes. “Is it sexy?”
Sexy . . . really wasn’t the right word for it. “It’s graphic,” Isabel replied vaguely.
“Well, I’d totally read it . . . if I didn’t hate reading.” Courtney laughed and rolled her eyes.
“I gotta go,” Isabel repeated, turning.
“Hey, wait a minute.”
Once again, she stopped, growing evermore frustrated. If Courtney was just bored and wanted to hang out . . . she really wasn’t in the mood for it. “What?” she groaned impatiently.
Courtney brushed the crumbs off her hands and slid down off the counter. “Okay, so I overheard Jesse and Eric talking, and I thought I should just give you the heads up before they talk to you,” she started in.
Oh, great, this didn’t sound good. “About what?”
“Your website, Isabel. It’s not making money. You’re losing advertisers and subscribers. You gotta do something unexpected, something edgy.”
“What, like a gangbang?” Isabel grunted, repulsed by the thought. No way. There were just some lines she wouldn’t cross.
Courtney shrugged as if it were no big deal. “It’s really not so bad,” she said, “if all the guys are nice.”
And the porn industry was so full of nice, wholesome guys, wasn’t it? “Were they all nice with you?” Isabel asked challengingly.
Her friend didn’t answer, and the silence said it all.
“I don’t care about my website, Courtney,” Isabel declared, very much over it right now. “I just . . . don’t care.” She flapped her arms against her sides, spun on her heel, and walked out the front door. So what if she was losing subscribers, losing advertisers, losing money in general? In the long run, it actually felt like she was winning something in return.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Maria was only stopping by the Student Union for a cup of coffee when she saw her: Sarah. She was sitting outside by the fountain, her feet in the water, her head in a book. She had sunglasses on, but Maria could tell it was her. She was so absorbed in whatever she was reading that she didn’t glance up, didn’t seem to realize anyone was watching her.
Maria stopped at the rotating doors in front of the Union, debating whether or not she should approach her. It wouldn’t be so easy to strike up a conversation anymore, not that it had ever come naturally to her or anything. What was she supposed to do, apologize for sleeping with Michael and breaking up their engagement? Thank her for keeping their secret from Max? Either one seemed bound to get a repulsed reaction.
Despite all her second-guessing, it felt like the right thing to do to at least say something, so Maria took a step forward. Before she could get anywhere, though, a warm hand gripped her arm and pulled her back.
“I wouldn’t,” Michael said.
She glanced down at his hand on her arm, immediately wishing it was someplace else. “I just thought I could go talk to her,” she said weakly, her resolve to do so quickly fading.
“It’s not gonna make her feel any better,” he told her, gently tugging on her arm. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, finding it hard to think about Sarah when he was standing so close to her.
He grinned and replied, “Someplace where I can make you feel better.”
And there it was again, that breathless feeling that he always seemed to know how to produce in her. She took one more glance back at Sarah before giving in to Michael’s simple seduction.
She followed him down to the bookstore, which sold a lot more than books these days. It was full of Aggie memorabilia, from posters and other decorations to clothing. She’d purchased plenty of shirts there at the start of the school year, though there had been no need to slip into the dressing rooms to try any of them on. But that was where they were heading now. She was sure of it.
Quiet as mice, they slipped inside. Michael hastily shut the door and slid the lock into place. The door went all the way down to the floor, so no one would know they were in there together. As long as they managed to keep quiet.
Easier said than done, she thought, gasping as he pushed her back against the wall. She hadn’t planned to meet him here, hadn’t planned to have sex with him right now, but the pure spontaneity of it all made it even more exciting.
His mouth occupied hers expertly while his hands dove in between them to tug her black leggings down over her hips. Maybe she’d had a guttural feeling that she’d run into him, because she hadn’t worn any underwear today. She kicked off her sandals and helped push the garment down further, so that it was around her knees. She tried to spread her legs, but it was too constricting until, with a low growl, he bent down and dragged her leggings all the way down to her ankles. She stepped out with one foot and lifted that leg up to wrap around his waist. Grinning mischievously, though, he sunk down to his knees, apparently with other ideas in mind.
“Oh my god,” she whispered in a rush when his mouth came into contact with her pussy. No tender kisses, nips, or nuzzles. It was a full blown oral assault right from the start, and she was more than willing to give into it.
He lifted her left leg up to drape over his shoulder, and it gave her the perfect angle to roll her hips forward and back, grinding herself against his face. His tongue tickled and tantalized, just like it was supposed to, and she swore she’d be cumming in no time. Maybe that was the point.
“Oh, Michael,” she moaned as her fist slammed back against the wall.
He stopped his ministrations momentarily and peered up at her with a playfully sexy gleam in his eyes. “Shh,” he teased.
Not wanting him to stop, she grabbed a clump of his hair and pushed his face forward again, right between her legs. He gave her a few more licks, but that was it before he stood up, his hands already pushing aside his own belt buckle. His pants were down to his knees in mere seconds, and then his hands were underneath her ass, lifting her up so that she was in the perfect position for him to shove his dick into her.
She couldn’t help but cry out, because he started to go hard right from the start. At first he tried to just hold her up rather than using the wall for any additional support, probably in an effort to reduce the noise they were making. But that idea quickly fell by the wayside, and he slammed her back against it so he could really pound her. Her legs wrapped around his waist tightly while her hands scrunched up his shirt and held on for dear life. Somehow, she managed to get herself quiet, but it didn’t matter much, because every time his hips pressed forward, her ass slammed back into the wall, making an unmistakable, rhythmic sound. If anyone walked by, surely it would be no secret what they were doing. And it was supposed to be a secret.
Right now, it felt too good to care.
“I want you to cum,” he whispered in her ear, all of his words blending together. He moved both his hands beneath her knees so he could get a good grip on her legs. He moved them both out to the sides so that she was spread open even more to him and he could fuck her harder.
“Oh god, please,” she begged, looking down between them to try to watch. It wasn’t very often that she got to see it happening, got to watch him sliding in and out of her. And she couldn’t even see it very well now, but she could see the next best thing.
Turning her head to the side, she watched their reflections in the full-length dressing room mirror. It was a complete turn-on seeing herself get fucked. They looked primal together, animalistic, like they weren’t just doing this because they wanted to anymore, but because they had to. Because they’d go crazy if they didn’t.
He gave a few more deep, hard thrusts that rattled her to the core, and the physical feelings combined with the reflective peepshow sent her over the edge. She had to bite back a scream as she came, clenching her eyes shut and tossing her head backward as it electrified her. He reached his own orgasm a few more thrusts later, as if he’d just been holding out until she got there first.
It all felt so damn good.
He was still inside her, though neither one of them were moving anymore, when there was a knock on the door. “Excuse me?” a woman’s voice said. “Is everything alright in there?”
Michael started to chuckle lightly, but Maria whacked his shoulder to shut him up. “Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, she answered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
They waited a few seconds until whoever was on the other side sounded like they were shuffling away, and then Michael slipped out of her and set her down on her own two feet again. “Did you like that?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.
“Yeah,” she confessed, looking down at his still semi-hard cock. Part of her wanted to get down on her knees and suck it, return the favor that he’d paid to her. But he’d already cum, and it would probably be too sensitive for that right now. Besides, they really had to get out of that dressing room before anyone came knocking again.
As he pulled his jeans back up and fastened them, he said, “You know, we might have to squeeze in more quickies if we can’t have as many late nights.”
“It’s bad, though,” she said, sure that he probably had more important things to be doing right now. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Screw class,” he mumbled. “I’d rather be screwing you.”
Well . . . he’d certainly done that. But class mattered, too, and she hated that his grades were suffering because of how preoccupied he was with her.
He squatted down and picked her leggings up off the floor, handing them to her. “You comin’ over later then?” he asked.
She would have loved to, but with Max’s recent suspicions, it just didn’t seem like a good idea. “I can’t,” she said, tugging her clothes back on. “I have to go home tonight.”
“So when am I gonna see you?”
“Maybe . . .” She straightened all her clothes and her hair out, thinking through their limited options. There was one that stood out, though, seemed particularly appealing. “This weekend,” she decided.
“When?”
“The whole weekend.”
His eyes lit up with intrigue.
“Yeah, Max and I were planning on taking Dylan to Roswell to see my mom and Diane,” she explained, “but I can just pretend I’m sick or something, and Max can just take him alone.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s not like I’m dying to see my mom or anything.”
Smirking, he moved in closer for a hungry kiss. “Sounds perfect,” he murmured against her lips. “We can just . . .”
Visions of the two of them tangled up in sheets and in each other danced through her head. “We can just,” she agreed, pressing her forehead against his. As intensely passionate as this frantic, rushed sex had been, this weekend would offer them more time. Time to draw it out, go slow, pay attention to every single inch of each other’s bodies. This weekend, they wouldn’t just have to fuck. They could make love.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
While she was in the midst of trying to make sense of organic chemistry, a shadow fell over Sarah’s textbook.
“Ew, studying,” Tess said. “I really don’t miss doing that.”
Sarah smiled and closed her book, all too happy to be done with it for now. “Hey, Tess,” she said, getting to her feet. “Coffee?”
Tess nodded affirmatively. “Coffee.”
They went inside the union, stopped by the Starbucks counter, and then sat down at one of the open tables, where Sarah made sure to say, “Thanks for spending time with me today.”
“It’s not like it’s a chore,” Tess said as she sipped some of the foam off the top of her caramel macchiato.
“Well, I know I’m not exactly the most exciting person to hang out with these days,” Sarah acknowledged. Even though she wasn’t allowing herself to sink down into a black hole of depression or anything, she still felt pretty down in the dumps pretty often. It was hard to try to be . . . cheerful. About anything.
“Well, that works out well, because I’m not too exciting to hang out with, either,” Tess said, smirking. “Hey, wanna go shopping after this? You can buy all the clothes I’m too big to fit into.”
Sarah chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds fun.” She really didn’t need any more clothes in her closet, but it would be fun just to browse. “Can I talk to you about something first, though?” she asked. Before they made any effort to be lighthearted, there was something weighing on her, something she had to discuss.
“Sure,” Tess said. “What is it?”
“Well . . .” She trailed off, sighing, dreading this conversation. But it was one they needed to have. She decided to ease into it gently. “End of the semester’s coming up, and I’m not taking summer classes this year.”
“Good for you. Enjoy your summer.”
“That’s the plan.” It certainly wasn’t going to be the summer she’d envisioned—no wedding or anything like that—but it could still be nice in its own way. “Actually, I was thinking I might—I might go home to Las Cruces this summer,” she announced.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Tess said. “Save money, spend time with your family.”
Inwardly, she cringed, clarifying, “And then I was thinking I might just . . . stay there.”
Realization swept across Tess’s face, and she quieted down. “Oh.” As she thought about it for a few more seconds, it seemed to dawn on her just what a big change that would be. “Oh. You mean, like, transferring?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s a bigger school. More classes.” Less Michael, she thought, hating that he was a big part of her motivation for this. “I think it might be a good fit.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it—it might be,” Tess stammered, trying to smile supportively.
“It’s just an idea,” Sarah assured her. “Nothing’s set in stone at this point.” She still had a month to figure out what was in her best interest. If Carlsbad was the right place for her to be, then she wouldn’t leave. But if she’d be better off in Las Cruces, then . . .
“I know it’d be awful timing,” she said, “what with the twins on the way and all.”
“Hayden and Haley.” Tess smiled fondly. “That’s what we’re naming them.”
Hayden and Haley, Sarah thought. They would probably be perfect children, blessed with all sorts of amazing talents and abilities. They’d be smart and adorable and all the things that Kyle and Tess were. She wanted to know them, but if she left town, would that still be possible? “Look, I know I’m supposed to be their godmother, and it would be such an honor,” she said. “But if you wanna pick someone else just in case I don’t end up being around so much, I would understand.”
“What?” Tess made a face and immediately dismissed that idea. “No. No. You’re their godmother, no matter what.” Reaching across the table, she squeezed Sarah’s hand assuring. “You’re my best friend. And I don’t care if you’re in Carlsbad, Las Cruces, or Fargo, North Dakota for crying out loud. You’re always gonna be my best friend.”
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She’d expected as much, but still, it felt nice to hear it. “Like I said, it’s just an idea at this point.”
“Well, if that’s what you decide to do . . .” Tess blinked back tears, but she managed to hold it together. “I’d miss you. But I’d support you.”
Of course you would, Sarah thought. Tess was still a cheerleader, even if she didn’t wear the uniform anymore. She supported people, encouraged them. Until they fell out of her good graces, anyway, like Michael had.
“It’s not like I’m trying to run away from everything that happened here,” Sarah said, feeling the need to explain herself. “It’s just . . . it’s been a lot to deal with, and I think I might just need a fresh start.” It was ironic, she was aware, that Las Cruces seemed fresh; after all, her whole reason for choosing Carlsbad had been to get out on her own, have some independence, even if it meant a slightly longer commute back home. But right now . . . home just seemed so inviting, and she would have done anything to be back there with her family, with people who loved her no matter what. Because obviously Michael hadn’t been one of those people.
“Can I ask you something?” Tess requested quietly.
Sarah nodded.
Tess leaned in, her voice dropping almost to a whisper when she inquired, “Do you miss Michael?”
She could have lied, and part of her wanted to lie, just to seem stronger than she actually was. But this was her best friend sitting across from her. No need to lie to her. “Every single day,” she admitted, letting the hurt linger. Even worse than missing him, however, was the agonizing suspicion that he didn’t miss her nearly as much in return.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael felt like he had an extra bounce in his step as he headed to Lecuona Hall for Music Appreciation that Friday, not because he was particularly excited about the class or anything, but because he was excited to see Maria. The plan wasn’t to have sex with her after class today; no, instead, he was just going to flirt with her, get her all hot and bothered so that, when they hooked up later tonight, she’d be begging for it.
“Yo, chico.”
He grinned as Fly caught up to him. “Hey, man,” he said. It felt like it’d been forever since he’d seen this kid.
“Hey,” Fly returned, walking alongside him. “What’s up, man? I ain’t even seen you lately.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just busy.”
“You busy this weekend?”
“This weekend?” Michael echoed. His plans were this weekend were set. In stone. “Uh, maybe. Why?”
“I was just thinkin’ about havin’ some people over,” Fly explained. “You know, fiesta.”
“With strippers?” Michael guessed.
“Hell, yeah, with strippers,” Fly eagerly confirmed. “You in?”
He chuckled inwardly, because the only girl he wanted to watch take her clothes off would take her clothes off for him. This weekend. All weekend. “Uh, well, the last stripper you booked was my ex-girlfriend,” he reminded Fly, “so I’ll pass.”
“No, I won’t get her,” Fly assured him. “I could get an Asian chick.”
Michael shot him a warning glare.
“Sorry, bad joke,” Fly apologized quickly. “Come on, man, it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, I know, but . . .” He also knew it wouldn’t even compare to the fun he and Maria were going to have. He had virtually no interest in watching any other girl undress right now. None whatsoever. “I can’t. I got stuff to do.”
“Like what?” Fly prodded.
“Studying.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, for real.” That was probably what he should have been doing. “My grades suck this semester.”
Fly sighed in resignation. “Alright, well . . . stop by Saturday if you get bored.”
“Yeah, I will,” Michael said, even though he knew there was no way he would get bored. “Later, Fly.” He picked up the pace as Lecuona Hall came into view, eager to get in there and see his girl.
“Yo, Mike,” Fly called after him.
He swiveled around.
In a rare moment of seriousness, Fly looked right at him and said, “I know you’re busy and all, but don’t forget to hang out with your friends once in a while.”
My friends, Michael thought, nodding slowly. Right. They were important, too, and he didn’t mean to make them feel unimportant. But it was just that . . . given the choice to hang out with them or hang out with Maria, there was obviously no decision to be made.
TBC . . .
-April