Ethereal Love (Book 2 LS Series)

Chapter 46

Skipper's POV

"So, um... I'm sorry," I repeat, my eyes traveling back and forth as Michael buzzes around his bedroom, dressing himself. "Yeah, sure," He mutters absentmindedly in response. "Are you mad at me again?"

"Put these on." He tosses a pair of black scrubs at me, as he slips a lab coat over his light blue ones. "What? It's Thursday, and only Will wears black scrubs." The other attending surgeons usually where dark blue ones. "How did you get these?" "Stop questioning me and put them on." He half smiles at me, before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Okay," I bite my lip with confusion and strip quickly, before slipping into the cool material of the scrubs. He comes back and tosses my lab coat at me. "And how did you get this?" "It was in your closet." He peers at himself in the mirror. I usually just wear Will's...

"Are we going to the hospital?" I inquire excitedly, and he gives me a wry grin. "Sure, we're going to the hospital." The scrubs are too fresh and crisp against my skin. It's like someone drowned them in starch. "So then... You're not mad?"

"No, baby, let's go." "But... wont my Dad get mad when I don't come home from school immediately?" "Just tell him you had to stay after school again. Do you wanna touch up your makeup?" He examines my face through squinted eyes, and panic surges through me immediately. Do I look bad or something?

"I'm not wearing any." My tone is flat and irritated. "I know... never mind, let's just go." Slight irritation flowers in my chest, but nothing severe enough to keep me from closing my hand around Michael's and following him downstairs and to the driveway. "Oh, and I came for my car," I motion to my bright red Vegetable sitting on the other end of the driveway. "Get it later." Later never seems to come.

I wordlessly climb into the passenger seat of his car, and he jogs around the back and plops down in the driver's seat. He grins at me again, staring as he starts up the car. "What?" I sigh, still slightly self-conscious about his comment about my absence of makeup. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

He doesn't turn on the radio as he rages down the street, and I'm still hesitant to touch it. I remember how and he got at me the first time I ever rode in his car, and I tried to touch it. I also remember his amused laughter when I admitted to him my intense love for Queen.

It's a half-hour drive across the city (I cringe every time he turns a corner) before he parallel parks in front of a huge skyscraper. I'm just happy to be here with my life, I swear the car screeched in protest every time we came to a stoplight. "What's this?" "Come on," He giggles, and practically prances out of the car. "Um..." I open the car door and shut if behind me, sluggishly dragging my feet to catch up with him.

I know exactly where we are as soon as we pass through the futuristically automatic doors, into a huge and bright red lobby-type room. On the back wall behind the reception desk is the word 'CNN' in huge letters. "No, Michael-" I attempt to make my way back toward the car, but he encloses my wrist in his iron grip and drags me across the perfectly prim carpeting to the reception desk.

"Hey, this is Skipper Nelson ready for her photo shoot." "I'm going to kill you-" "She's here and ready for a close up." I'm speechless as the stuffy looking secretary dressed in a suit jacket types something into her gigantic computer. "Yes, you'll want to take the elevator to the ninth floor, third door on the left is hair and makeup. Have her go through that, and wait in her dressing room directly next door. The photographers will come for her added that."

'Dressing room?' Hair and makeup?' I am not comfortable with that at all, I just want to be plain old me. "Alright, thanks." He drags me past the desk to the silvery elevator doors, and presses the button positioned on the wall. It lights up like Michael's eyes, as he stares at me with excitement. "Can you let me go now?" "Not until we get into the elevator."