* * *
Mike sprawled out across my bed and sorted through the playlists on my iPod while I fussed about in my wardrobe, choosing a dress to wear out. “So, what’s this shopping trip for again?” he called.
“Um. Emily needs a dress for the ball. I was supposed to go with her last week, but…” I shrugged to myself.
“Ball?” The words came from directly behind me.
I spun around, cupping my hands over my bra. “Mike? Get out of here!”
“Relax, kid, I’ve seen it all before.”
“No,” I scoffed, shoving him. “Get out. You can talk to me when I’m decent.”
“You look pretty decent, now.” His smug grin made me smile, but common sense took over and I shoved him again.
“Out. Now!”
“Okay, okay.” He laughed as he backed away, palms raised. “So, are you going to the ball?”
“Well, I—” I looked at the dress, hanging in all its glory on the hook beside me.
“Was David supposed to take you?” Mike asked from right behind me again.
“Hey. I said out!”
“Just answer me and I’ll go.”
“Don’t give me that cheeky grin, Michael Christopher White. I said out. Now, out.”
He grabbed the finger I pointed in his face. “Make me.”
“I shouldn’t have to. You should give a girl some respect.”
“I do respect you.” He pulled me close, cupping his warm hands on my bare waist. “I’m also just very attracted to you. So—” he grinned, running his thumb from my rib to my hip, “—can I escort you to the ball, since the flesh eater isn’t here?”
Flesh eater? Oh, right, he was referring to the bruises on my neck. “Don’t talk about him like that, Mike,” I said. “Besides, I thought you hated getting all dressed up?”
“Who me?” His eyes flashed with mischief. “Ara, I would like nothing more than to dress like a penguin and dance with the most beautiful girl in the room. Besides, we both know I look hot in a suit.”
I glared up at him, making my eyes small. His hands clasped together so tightly behind me then that I couldn't really move. I wanted to tell him to get out, but I also wanted him to stay. I just wanted it to feel right. But it wasn’t right. Not yet.
“So, what’d ya say—will you let this lowly Aussie hunk escort his princess to the ball?”
“No, but I’ll let my best friend do it.”
“Great. I’ll go buy a suit tomorrow then.”
“Okay, thanks, Mike.”
“No worries, baby.” He rested his head on mine, cradling me close, continuing his welcomed intrusion.
“Um, Mike,” I said into his warm, firm chest, my lips practically eating his shirt with each word. “Kinda need to breathe.”
“Oh, sorry.” He let me loose. “I always forget how fragile you are.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, now, out. I need to get dressed.”
“Ara?” Vicki called. “Emily’s here.”
“Send her up,” I called back and glared at Mike.
“Okay.” He laughed at my ‘nose in the air’ stance, then turned around, but didn’t leave. “Maybe I’ll take Sam to another movie.”
“You two are getting pretty close.”
“Yeah. He’s a good kid,” he said, leaning on the wall, forgetting he was supposed to be looking away.
“He’ll be sad when you go.”
“Maybe I just won’t go then?” I could hear the question in his suggestion. He wanted me to ask him to stay.
I shrugged instead, buttoning my jeans. “I’m not having this conversation with you right now, Mike. I have too much on my mind.”
He went quiet, nodding, then wedged both hands into his pockets, took one last long look at me and left with a cheeky grin on his face.
After a less than successful shopping trip, Emily and I sat empty handed at the café and ordered a burger. “Mike seems nice.” Her eyelids fluttered. “You were definitely right about his cuteness.”
I nodded, swallowing my mouthful. “He feels really bad for practically shaking you the other day.”
“It’s okay. Really. I get it. He was worried.” Her smile subsided to a frown. “Really worried, actually.”
I nodded, feeling pretty awkward.
“So, how’s David?” she asked. “Have you two run up a huge phone bill yet?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few extra times, looking at her plate.
I placed my burger down. “I uh...I actually haven’t spoken to him since he left.”
“Why’s that? Has he lost his phone again?” She grinned.
“Um, no.” My jaw tightened to hold back the quivering lip. “We broke up, actually.”
“What?” she screeched; everyone in the café turned to look at us. “What do you mean? Why?”
“He…he wasn't going on holiday, Em. He...was moving away—permanently.”
Her face contorted—an illustration of her thoughts. “But…he didn't even say goodbye.”
“I know. He hates goodbyes,” I lied.
“But, he was my friend!”
The waitress nearby stopped walking and looked at Emily.
She cleared her throat, blinking back tears. “He wouldn’t just leave without so much as a goodbye.”
“I'm sorry, Em. He did.”
Her lip trembled. “But…I knew him longer than you. Why would he just…that’s so mean.”
“And you’re surprised? You know what he’s like.”
“Yes.” She scowled at me, like this was my fault. “But he was never mean to me, Ara—never intentionally, anyway.”
“Well, I don't think he left to be mean, Emily.”
“Why did he leave—did he tell you?”
I sunk my chin against my hand with a huff. “His uncle got a call to move, and David had to go with him.”
“His uncle?” She frowned. “David doesn't live with his uncle anymore.”
I sat taller. “How do you know—did you ever go over his house?”
“House? Ara, he lives in an apartment.”
My stomach dropped through my legs and onto the floor. “So you went there?”
“Of course I did.”
“Oh. Um.” Ouch. “Well, I'm sorry he didn't say goodbye, Em. Maybe he’ll call you or something.”