Mending Michael (25 page)

MICK

She is making me jealous. That's all.

I keep that thought going.

Because if I don't, I am seriously going to break something.

"Mick?"

She's standing at the back door.

"I..." she walks forward, "we...really need to talk."

Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds earlier and I'd have been out of here on my bike. Instead, my half-minute respite to take a breath leaves me face to face with her. "There's nothing to talk about." I start my engine. "Go talk to Ben," I spit his name out as if vomit were stuck on my tongue.

I rev my engine to take off, but the warmth of her hand on my forearm stops me. "Yes. There is. We have to work together, Mick. We can't just...not talk to each other."

"Uh. Yeah. We can." I accelerate my engine again. 'Cause I'm angry.

"Uh. No. We can't. It's not fair to Donny. His customers feel that shit. We need to call a truce, Michael. Whatever it is you're mad at me for, well, spit it out, or let it go."

"Mad? Until five minutes ago, I wasn't mad at all." My words come out holding strong resentment. But really...I wasn't mad. I was glad. Happy to be working with her again. Then she goes and throws the name Ben in my face? What the fuck?

"So what's that supposed to mean?"

She sticks her hands in the pockets of her apron and sucks in her lips.

Which reminds me. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Donny's covering. Stop changing the subject. What's your beef with me?"

I cannot slow down my racing, betraying heart, and I'm sure she can hear how fast I'm breathing. "Nothing." There's no way I can let her know how this is affecting me... Fuck it. She's gotta know. "So... how long you been seeing Ben?"

Her mouth twists this way and that. "Not long. How long you been seeing other people?"

I have no idea what the fuck or who the hell she's talking about, but, "A while," comes out of my mouth anyway.

"Uh," her mouth droops, "a while? Like, Seaside Heights a while?"

No. "Maybe."

"So...like, that kiss and everything you said at that pizza place? That was just...just a lie?"

I shrug, though it was nowhere near a lie. I meant every word of it. How I'd love to start a relationship with her. I'd love to make her my first priority. She deserves to be my first priority. But what I say is nothing like what I had said at the pizza place. "Essentially."

Her expression stills. Frozen in awe. Her mouth makes a little O shape, but only breath expels, no words. When her teeth take in her lip, her eyes begin to bubble.

I've gone too far.

Why can't being honest be easy? Why must we play these destructive games?

"Sorry I bothered you," she murmurs. Then turns and walks away.

"Fuck. Holiday wait," I cry, shutting the engine and swinging my leg around to get off my bike.

Her auburny-orangy-brown hair flutters in the summer breeze, causing a swirl of sweet vanilla my way. She glowers at me from her stance at the open door.

"You're right," I say. "We should be friends."

Holly nods once, says, "Sure. See ya Thursday," then goes inside, the door slamming behind her, and shutting me out with the last word.

"Fuck." That girl will be the death of me.

I hop on my bike and take off. Ignoring my instincts to turn around and fix things with Holly.

Then I begin to run her words through my mind.
What the fuck is she talking about—my ex and the other girl?
What had she heard? Is someone spreading rumors? I know I need to fix this, find out what she is talking about, but then...then I'll want to hold her in my arms and never let her go.

My heart hurts.

Too much.

HOLLY

Wednesday morning, psych class goes by too fast. It's amazing how much focus I can have when the subject interests me. As yesterday and the day before, Ben sits next to me, but remains intent on listening to the professor. It impresses me that he finds Dr. Hamburg as interesting as I do. At least, it looks as if Ben is interested. His presence today, though, reminds me of my preposterous fabrication that Ben and I are seeing each other. What the hell?

"So where do you go to hang out, Holly?" Ben asks while I'm finishing up jotting down tonight's assignment?

I look up at his standing form surprised. "Huh?"

"All my friends went home for the semester. I'm renting a shithole of a room from some old lady, and I'm getting bored. You seem cool. Maybe we can do tonight's assignment together."

"Oh, sure. That's a good idea." It's a great idea, and very... fluky that he'd ask me a day after I'd admitted, untruthfully, to dating him. "When?" I shrug noncommittally.

"I get out of my next class at two. After that?"

"Um. Yeah. I have to be into work tonight at four though." I grab my books and stand up to alleviate a potential neck ache, he's not that tall, but from this position, he may as well be. "Think we can squeeze it in?"

"Yeah. You work far from here?"

"No. Donny's in Haledon. It's only two minutes down the road. I can meet you wherever."

"Donny's is good. I'll be there at 2:02." He grins, pats me on the back, and leaves.

A no-nonsense type of guy. I like that in a person.

Then it occurs to me. I may not be working with Mick today, but
he
will be working when I am studying with Ben. Holy bejeezus, what did I do? Maybe this is good. If Mick is seeing someone, then he doesn't have to feel bad. But after his reaction last night...I have a feeling Mick isn't seeing anyone regularly. Oh boy. I don't even have Ben's number to cancel.

Now see...this is why I prefer being a bitch. Then I don't have to worry about other people's feelings.
What has Rose done to me?

I go home to Griffin's empty house and throw in a load of laundry. It's whites day. While the washing machine is going, I make myself a turkey and lettuce sandwich and fix a pitcher of lemonade. I don't like being in the house alone, and I don't like being without my friends. I shoot Rose a text since I haven't heard from her, then I grab my copy of
Running Barefoot
by Amy Harmon and take my lunch out to Griffin's huge front porch. How corny and old-fashioned of me to be sitting on a porch drinking lemonade, and it makes me miss my best friend. If she were here, she'd be giving me all this wholesome advice and sharing her down-home family wisdom.

So why the heck isn't she texting me back?

It's 2:02 p.m. and I'm sitting in my car in the lot that sits next to Donny's. The lot meant for Frank's Liquors and Restaurant patrons only. But I don't want to go in and see Mick. If I'm alone, I'm not sure if he'll want to talk, and I don't know what to say if we do. He'll no doubt ask about Ben, and I'll have to either say I was lying, which I was, and that I'm not seeing Ben, only to have him see me with him anyway. Or I have to tell him I am seeing him and that he'll be joining me momentarily.

Another minute goes by when I see a shiny new black Honda Civic pull in the lot next door. I wait for the Honda to pull into a space and its driver to get out. His dark blue hat is donned backwards over his thick dark hair. When he pulls his black glasses off his face, he plants them securely over the hat brim behind his head, and showcases those bright blue eyes. If I wasn't so into Mick, I just might actually want to date this dude. He's so ruggedly beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, I get out of my car, and watch Ben enter Donny's from the front door. I wait about ten seconds and step forward, entering Donny's with a palpitating heart. Mick isn't looking at the door when I open it, so I slip in unnoticed and spot Ben immediately, sitting at a front corner table. Fortunately, out of Mick's direct line of sight.

"Hey, Ben." I pull out the chair and sit.

"Hey, Holly."

Tina approaches the table, handing us menus as she greets us. "Hey, Holly. I didn't see you come in with..." she smiles, eying Ben. "Hi."

"Tina, this is Ben. Ben, Tina."

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What can I get you both?"

"Just an iced tea for me, Teen."

"Ben?"

"Coke, please, and an order of nachos if you have 'em."

"Yup. Be right back." She takes our menus and leaves.

"Are you a waitress here too?" Ben isn't looking at me when he asks, he's opening his book to chapter five.

While I open my spiral notebook and fold it over, I pull a pen from my purse and say, "Yeah. But tonight I'm behind the bar. Donny's training me."

"Cool." He's looking at me now. "Donny's the owner? Obviously?"

"Yeah." I laugh. "He's cool. You've never been here?" I ask, surprised, since most of Hunter Hill's student body frequents Donny's.

"No. Most of my time's spent playing ball or keepin' my grades up. Not much time for drinking and shit."

I nod in agreement, though inwardly cringing because most of my time before I started working was spent drinking and shit. More shit than drinking, but still. This guy's so...good. He reminds me of Rose, who still hasn't texted me back.

"So," I say, attempting to switch gears, "what do you want to chart our graph on and with which variables? He said we can partner up, right?"

"He did. How 'bout identifying violent behavior from toddlerhood to childhood determining if and how much will be carried through the teenage and adult years?"

"You haven't given the assignment much thought, have you?" I joke.

He grins. "I love Psychology. These kinds of questions run through my mind regularly."

"Wow. I'm impressed. You're going to be a great psychologist. But sure, let's go with your idea."

Our drinks are sitting in front of us, and I don't even recall Tina bringing them, but when I pick it up to take a sip, my eyes inadvertently leave the safety of our study session. And I find Mick scowling at me from behind the bar. Quickly, I snap my head back down, pretending to look at my notebook, but I can't seem to refrain from shifting my eyes in his direction every few seconds.

Mick's gaze leaves me, but his lips are pursed, and his anger can be felt from where I sit. I try hard to ignore it in order to be an active participant in our psych assignment, but when Ben excuses himself to go the bathroom, all of a sudden, Tina's hand rests on my shoulder, and she's slinking down next to me so that we are eye level.

"Holl," she whispers. "What's going on? Since you walked in, Mick has been steaming from the ears."

I sigh.

"I try not to pay attention to everyone's business, so I really don't know if you guys were a thing or not...I mean, I'd heard, but... what happened? Did you piss him off? He's never this upset."

Closing my eyes, I take a breath. "Don't really know," I answer truthfully, and try to play it off as nothing.

But my heart knows it's not nothing, because it's screaming at me to make things right.

Damn heart.

"I was thinking," Tina continues even though I'm sending signals for her to stop talking, "maybe he doesn't like you with that guy you're with. Maybe he thinks you're
dating
him?" The way she emphasizes the word dating and says it questioningly, I'm suddenly wondering if she's actually asking to see if Ben's available for herself.

This irks me for some unknown reason, so I snarl, "Well, it's not up to Mick
who
I'm with, so he's just gonna have to deal with it." Sometimes I just can't stand myself. I haven't learned yet, at my age, how to embrace honesty. Lord knows I want to. I really want to. But something in my brain rejects it, opting for cynicism instead.

Tina stands. "I get it," she says. "Who knew he was that into you, huh? I mean, the guy never talks."

"Well. He's got some other things going on in his life besides me that could be causing his anger," I say in a tone that should end this ridiculous conversation. Ben's on his way back, and he doesn't need to hear my bar drama. He probably wouldn't want to be my friend.

Tina walks away before Ben sits back down. He and I get back to our psych work, and before we know it, it's after four, and when I spot Donny behind the bar, I realize that I hadn't noticed Mick and Donny switching shifts.

"Oh my goodness, Ben, it's after four. I don't want Donny getting upset."

"It's fine. I'll finish up the closing statement and then I'll head out. You go 'head."

I close up my books and tuck them in my arm. "Thanks so much, Ben."

"Anytime. Now get...I don't want to be the reason you get fired." He laughs.

I smile and say goodbye, but when I turn towards the bar, still smiling, Mick is standing in front of it, his fists clenched at his sides, his lips pressed together, and his grimace menacing.

Oh shit. "Mick," I say, breathless. Unsure of what to do. What to say.

He, however, says nothing at all out loud. His dark piercing eyes do all the talking. I swallow when I hear his silent words. I've betrayed him. I didn't have the patience to wait for him. I've let him down. The hate that'd erupted from him when we'd first met is back. And more ferocious than ever.

Through his eyes, I see the door to his soul slam shut, and my bottom lip trembles as I can no longer see inside him. I clutch my chest and fight back tears, but it's a moot point. The tears fall anyway. And when they do...his mouth curves up just slightly with a satisfied grin.