Chapter 2: Dancing

A Chapter by Brooke

Chapter 2: Dancing

Michael. What was I supposed to do for three months without the love of my life? I hadn't thought about the fact that if I were to go to my mom's I would not see anyone I knew. Michael Louis Perment is, well, it's hard to explain our relationship. I guess you could say that for the last year, since he moved here, I've had this mando crush on him; I admit I'm a wee bit obsessed. Now I was set (and there is no going back now -- my dad's involved, and the only thing he hates more than being unprepared is a quitter -- which is exactly what he would call be if I backed out now) to spend the next three months miles from him. What was I going to do? I had not a clue. I, of course, immediately called Mandie back, started out chat right up.

"What Liz, what's wrong? We just got off, not three minutes ago...there has to be something wrong? What is it?"

"Michael," I uttered softly, so softly I wasn't sure she had heard. Not until I heard her reaction anyways.

"Oh! Liz -- Jeez Louise, you have get over that guy, he is sooo last Christmas. Move on!!!" She's been badgering me about him for the last month. What am I supposed to do, just stop feeling? Um, no thanks.

"Mandie -- come on your my best friend the whole world, can't you throw a dog a bone?"

"Throw a dog a what?" That's one thing about Mandie; she doesn’t so much get figures of speak.

"Can't you just show me some sympathy, I'm suffering over here!"

"Okay, fine, your right. How `bout this, we'll go out on the town tonight and "accidentally" run into Mike."

"Alright, but don't call him Mike, his name is Michael."

"Again with the name thing...whatever is seven okay?" Looking at clock I could it wouldn't be nearly enough to pack everything for the summer -- but I'd have to make do.

"Sure, seven's fine -- see you in an hour. Your house?"

"Duh..." And, again, we hung up.

Running upstairs as fast as I could, I almost tripped in my hurry. Once I was on the landing I raced to the closet in the laundry room where our many suitcases were held. Even though we had many suitcases, of all shapes, sizes, and colors, I easily found my suitcase. It was, oddly, the only black one we owned. Because of my dad's many business trips and my less than frequent traveling, the suitcase was on the bottom and in the middle of a five high, five wide suitcase pile. I, being my unorganized self stuck my hand in the middle of the pile, grabbed a hold of what I though was probably my suitcase, and pulled. Thankfully it was the right suitcase, but I had totally messed up the beautiful pile Peggy, our housekeeper, had constructed. Oh well, she'll just do it again -- I mean isn't that what she get paid for?

I rushed down to my room. My clock read 6:04 -- I've got a little less than a half hour to make some sort of dent in packing. I decided to get everything out and put it out on my bed before I packed it into my suitcase. First I tackled the closet; I felt like those people in the movies where the editor speeds up the film so it looks like their moving really fast and then all of a sudden stops. The closet had taken me the whole thirty minutes I had, but whatever, I had to look perfect tonight. Getting ready for a night of Michael, my Michael was hard work. I curled my stick straight, dirty blond hair; I added black mascara to my lashed, so that you could tell that my eyes had any color at all. Eye shadow, eyeliner, lip-gloss, and liner were applied and my face was ready. But my clothes, nowhere near presentable to anybody, let alone the love of my life.

Looking at the piles of clothes on my bed, I decided on a bouncy mini-skirt that was perfect length from my some-what short legs and a light green v-neck tank over a black, scoop neck tank. I looked cute, if I did say so myself. 6:50 -- shoot I had to be at Mandie's in ten minutes and I still hadn't picked out shoes! Little green flats! I grabbed them quick, grabbed the black purse I always use, and my house keys.

I left the house at exactly 6:54. I ran across the street to Mandie’s house. She was waiting for me in her car, sitting behind the wheel, jamming out to her new CD. I knocked on her window, ever so lightly, but she heard me. Quickly, she turned down the music. I climbed into the very familiar passenger seat and buckled up.

"So...ya ready," Mandie asked, while eyeing my outfit. It must have passed her standards because she quickly started the car.

"Let's do this," I screamed with my hands in the air. We drove, with the music cranked, to our high school's hot spot, Patty's Pizza Place. The founder, Patty something-or-other, had intended it to be a family place, like Chuckie-E-Cheese, but high-school students flocked to it from everywhere. Now, rarely do you come here and not see ten or more teens. It has transformed into some sort of club for teens hang out at. Mandie and I ordered a piece of combo each. Because of it always being so jammed packed, all food took like forty minutes to get. So Mandie and I made ourselves comfortable on the dance floor. Dancing my heart out to amazing music, with my best friend on the planet, I almost forgot about Michael. Almost.

As that first song was drawing to a close, I saw him. He was standing alone by the order pick up. He must have felt my gaze on his because suddenly he popped his head up, looked at me, and smiled. My heart beating an unhealthy amount, I slowly made my way over to where he was.

"Liz," he said, that amazing, deep voice of his.

My mind was totally useless; all I could muster was a dreamy, "Yes?" He looked as if he was going to ask me something, a questioning look on his face, his lips slightly apart. But I guess I'll never know, because, right at that moment my name was called from the order counter.

"Meet me at the table over," I asked, pointing at an open table near by.

"Sure." I grabbed my pizza and walked over to the table I had just indicated. When I looked over at Michael I saw that he was talking to Mandie as she searched her the receipt she needed to pick up her food. Not wanting to take my eyes off Michael, I tried to control my urge to the pizza in front of me. I was unsuccessful. I took a quick bite of the amazing pizza. And then another and another. Soon I felt a presence beside me -- Michael -- but I was mistaken. It was Mandie.

"Oh hey," I said, quickly looking up where Michael had been standing, but he wasn't there. "Where's Michael," I asked Mandie.

"Oh, he went to the bathroom really quick -- and actually I'm going to too. Watch my stuff?" Without waiting for any kind of answer, she took off in the direction of the restrooms. Slowly, I savored what was left of my pizza. I had the whole piece consumed in five minutes. Oddly though, neither Mandie nor Michael had showed. I looked longingly out at the dance floor. So badly did I want to get back out there; if neither came back soon I was going to ditch Mandie's pizza. Thankfully, I soon saw her headed in my direction. Her hair was sticking up a bit in the back and her lipstick was smudged. It looked to me like she had just come out of a make out session.

"I see why you’re so long in the bathroom," I said.

An unexplainable look of worry came over her face when I said this, "You do?"

"So, who's the lucky boy?"

Curiously, a look of relief washed over her as she said, "I'm not one to kiss and tell..." I was about to press her for details, when Michael started walking toward me. He looked as, if not more, good looking than he had the last time I had seen him. Which felt like years ago -- not minutes. The rest of the night went by in a daze. I was aware that I was dancing like I had never danced before (in public that is) and that both Mandie and Michael were right next to me. But other than that, I remember nothing. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in my second bed, as I fondly called it in my head. Which is located in Mandie’s upstairs room. The smell of bacon is what woke me. As I got up and made my bed (the only disadvantage to having two beds.) I was breathing so deeply, trying to consume as many drifts of scent as I could, that I was making myself light headed. Somehow I made it to the breakfast bar without hurting myself. H placed a half-pound of bacon in front of me, which I wolfed down in seconds.

“Whoa, Liz, slow down there!”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, while whipping grease off my chin.

“Oh, yum bacon,” a voice said behind me, “but I see Miss Piggy over here has eaten half of it all herself.” I turned around to find Scott, Mandie’s older brother, shooting me a mock glare. Even though Mandie complains about Scott so much, I really don’t see what’s so wrong with him.

“I’m sorry,” I said, for the second time that morning, though this time it was dripping with sarcasm, “who’s talking? The one who came to my house on Super Bowl Sunday and ate the entire crock-pot of little smokies that my aunt Lin had worked hours on?”

“Fine, we’ll call it even then,” he retorted with a smile. Mandie hopped down the stairs looking just as beautiful as she had at the beginning of last night, even thought she had just gotten out of bed.

“Good morning Harry – breakfast smells delectable! Good morning my dear friend,” she said first addressing her father, then me.

“Good morning to you too,” Scott sneered with a glare, this time for real.

Changing the subject, I said to Mandie, “After breakfast let’s go over to my house and I can finish packing.” Not that I thought she would actually help, I just felt like it would be rude not to.

“No thanks, I’ll pass – anyways I have my own packing to do.” Most people would have found this remark rude, but I didn’t, I was actually kinda relieved. Mandie isn’t the most organized person in the world, if you know what I mean.

“I’ll help you pack,” this voice came from Scott – always willing to help. And how could I say no – he was practically my brother.

“Alright, meet you over at my house in ten.” I was out the door before another word could be said. Even though it was Saturday, my dad was long gone. So for the next few moments, I had the house all to myself. I took them to put on something comfortable, my black work shorts and a gray tank. I went upstairs for the second time in twenty-four hours. I don’t know if it was because I had been up there, so I might as well go again, or what, but when I got to the top, I gave a sign of relief.

Instead of walking straight, like I would have if I had been going to my dad’s office. I went diagonal-ish, which lead me to the only upper window visible from the front of the house. I sat on my bench in front of my Peter Pan window and stared out at the highway that zoomed on behind Mandie’s house.

prev chapter