A Match into Texas (Mike Fuentes Fanfic)

10

Part 10

The rest of the day passed pretty quickly. My exams weren't too horrible, although about halfway through my calc final, I realized that I was wearing a shirt that said 'fuck' quite blatantly across the front, but the proctors were both elderly men, and I hoped they wouldn't notice. I drove back to the hotel- very slowly, I might add- and was received by a disgruntled Bob. I had actually held onto my room key, and walked through the lobby as quickly as I could, but to no avail.

'Where were you yesterday? All customers are supposed to be preset every night of their stay.' He was just pulling these things out of his ass, I swear.

'Sorry, Mom.' I walked back to my room, and when I opened the door, the room was as neat as it had been after Mike had cleaned up. Everything was in place except for the bedcovers. I dropped my bag on the couch, and walked into the bathroom. I felt disgusting, I had slept for almost 2 days, and hadn't showered. I put my phone on the toilet seat, and threw my clothes in the corner. The hot water stung my back slightly, but after a minute or so, the pain went away, and my body relaxed. I wasn't tired, but my eyes closed and I stood there, surrounded by steam and the water, pounding on my shoulders.

For some reason, Mike kept popping into my head. His eyes were etched into my eyelids, I couldn't stop wishing that his arm was around my waist, his fingers between mine. His lips on mine. I didn't know why he liked me at all- I was this crazy, depressed girl with nothing new to offer him. But I knew that he liked me. He liked me enough to let me sleep in his bunk for two days, to drive my truck back to town, to drive me to campus, just to make sure I was safe. It was a nice thing, to be wanted.

A ringtone shook me from my thoughts. Turned off the water, and pulled the shower curtain aside, and speak of the Devil, Mike's face was on my phone screen. I pulled a towel around me, and answered the call.

'Hello?'

Mike's voice came through, boasting a fake Mexican accent. 'Hola Señorita. Como estas?' I could hear the smile.

'Estoy bien, Señor, y tu? Que pasa?' I used my best accent. My five years of Spanish were finally sort of paying off.

'You speak Spanish too? Shit girl, what can't you do?' He laughed, and I heard Jaime in the background saying 'Take her home to Mama, Mikey!'

'I can't write my name in a snowbank. And I can't play guitar! But other than that, I'm pretty fabulous.' He said that he knew I was fabulous, and asked me how my tests had gone. We chatted for about 15 minutes, and then he had to go- the band had to practice. They had a few days left in town, and then they had a month off. We said goodnight, and he promised to call the next day, around 5:00.

When we hung up, I decided to make another call. Lydia would love to hear about the past few days. The phone rang a few times, and Lydia picked up.

'Hey sweetie. How's it going?' She always sounded so glad to hear from me.

'Well, you remember that day when we were talking, and I couldn't find my room key, and had to get the guy to let me in? Something interesting happened after we hung up.' I told her all about Mike crashing with me, him getting sick, me taking care of him, him cleaning up the room, buying me a tat to thank me, bringing me back into the room, and inviting me to the festival. When I got to the platform part, she interrupted with a squeal.

'You kissed him! Alexis!! And you call me now? Oh Jesus, is he sweet and wonderful? Does he have any friends?', and on and on until I finally told her that he had three very good friends in the band, I'm sure one of them would be interested in some nutcase girl from California.

'Hey, I'm not from here! I'm reppin NYC, don't get it twisted. Girl, you need to come visit me. I'm going up to Vermont for the break, my auntie has a house that she's letting me use. Come through!' I told her I'd think about it.

'Bring your boy too!' We hung up.

The rest of the night was spent with my nose on my books, and my hand around a mug of strong coffee. The life of a college student.

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The next day passed without incident; exams weren't horrible, and nothing terribly exciting happened. I napped between exams- not sleeping can be a bitch. I got out of my lat exams at about 4:50, and by the time I had settled into the drivers seat, my phone vibrated. Mike.

I picked up, as turned the key in the ignition and rolled up my window. Raindrops were starting to make their way down the windshield. 'Hey!'

'Hiya beautiful. How were the exams?' I told him about the tests, he told me about his day in the studio. 'Today was my last day, Tony and Vic and Jaime need to go in for two more days, but I'm done. Can I see you tomorrow?' He sounded so hopeful.

'How about tonight? You ever walked on a beach during a thunderstorm? Nothing like it, I promise.' He said he would meet me at the hotel in a half hour, he couldn't wait.

I beat him to the hotel, just barely. Not thirty seconds after I had closed the door, I heard a knock.

'Who is it?', I sang out. I heard him laugh, and he replied that it was the Big Bad Wolf.

'Oh, good. I've always been partial to a bad boy.' I opened the door and Mike walked in, slightly damp, but smiling. He closed the door behind him, and turned to me, putting his hands on my waist and pulling me to him. I didn't resist, and I hooked my arms around his neck.

I remember when I was younger, my babysitter- a beautiful Jamaican woman who I was still in touch with named Margaret- told me that when I grew up, I would fall in love with lots of boys. When she was young, she fell in love all the time. But the way you knew which boy was the one that you were meant to be with, was by the kiss. The boy you never got tired of kissing, the boy who's kiss always brought a butterfly to your stomach and left your lips tingling; that was the boy that would make you happiest.

Being the flighty person I was, I was usually bored after a kiss or two, because I oversimplified the kiss into just a touch. When the kiss is with someone who means something to you, it's more than just a touch. It is a touch that conveys love, lust, desire, and to an extent, fear of disappointing them. That is the kind of kiss that you wait for, the kind of kiss that takes you by surprise in it's intensity, the kind that leaves you wanting so much more.

That was what that kiss felt like. So much energy seemed to pour from his lips to mine, they were left tingling.

When I broke the kiss, I rested my head on his shoulder, and I heard his music from his headphones. I put one in my ear, and we stood there, swaying to the sound of Pavarotti singing Christmas carols. I kissed him again, just a peck, and asked him if he was ready to go. He nodded.

He had this look in his face, like I was some figure to look up to. 'Whats that look for, mister?' I walked to the mirror to put my hair up, and he came up behind me. He put his arms around my waist and tilted his head at me in the mirror.

'I couldn't admire you more than I do right now. You are so smart and kind and wonderful. What are you doing with a bum like me?' I kissed his cheek, and leaned back against him.

'I sorta like guys like you. You know, that guy who hangs back at the party, and blushes when you get up to talk to him, and he turns out to be better than you ever imagined.' I turned my attention back to my hair, and I heard him whisper in my ear.

'I couldn't admire you any more, even if you had put the stars in the sky.'