charity project // mischa bachinski (ride the cyclone)

6 - you know what they say about assuming?

Ocean held up her hands in surrender. "I get it! I get it! Just stop screaming profanities at me!"

"I'm not screaming, but I'll start if you don't stop slandering Mischa I will."

"Slandering? This isn't slander! It's true! If you're so keen on defending him, why not just go make out with your boyfriend already, yeah?"

"He's not my boyfriend. You're just mad you get no attention from boys," I huffed.

She gasped "I'm friends with Noel!"

See, that was funny considering Noel didn't even like her in the least.

"Noel? Noel doesn't count!" I stopped myself and took a long, deep breath. "Sorry, Ocean. I got a bit carried away. I didn't mean to get overdramatic."

She also took a deep breath. "It's alright. I got a bit carried away, too. I wasn't intending to make you upset. I'm sorry."

See, that's why Ocean and I got along so well. Both of us felt so much pressure to be perfect and be calm and collected at all times. We both knew that. It gave us the opportunity to get angry at someone without feeling terrible. Sure, Ocean might be a bit mean, harsh, and judgemental at times, but never really angry. We got it out of each other's systems. And we even apologized each time, which is surprising for Ocean. Even people like her have at least some good in them.

...

I walked with Mischa and Noel out to the car and got inside. Noel opened the passenger door and Mischa began to sit down.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was going to-" Noel started, pointing to the seat.

Mischa shook his head. "My bad. I though I was going to sit here because I'm her b-" He stopped himself. "Best friend."

"That's a pretty funny joke, man! Because she's been my best friend since we were five! This is my usual spot!"

Mischa and Noel both laughed, but their eyes didn't laugh with them.

"Well, that's very nice. But I think it would be better if I sat here to get to know her better."

"How about both of you just sit in the back?" I offered. "No fighting."

They sighed simultaneously.

Mischa stepped out and Noel reluctantly shut the door behind him. They both got into the back seats, arms folded across their chests.

"What do you think about watching a movie?" I asked.

"Which one?" Noel asked. "Because if you make me watch Legally Blonde one more time I'm going to force you to watch another French one."

"Legally Blonde is a great movie. It's a critical point in cinematic history, showing how both feminism and femininity can coexist. I rest my case," I gripped the wheel tighter. "But no. Not Legally Blonde this time."

"So it's Legally Blonde II?" Noel lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut it. I picked out a great one. We're going to watch The Sound of Music."

"I can live with it," he sighed.

"You'd better."

I pulled into my driveway. Everyone got out of the car, and I welcomed them inside.

"We're home, Ms. L/n!" Noel shouted.

"Good to see- no, hear you, Noel!" She shouted back from the kitchen.

My mother walked to us, just like she usually does. She paused for a moment.

"Who might you be?"

Mischa held out his hand. "I am Mischa Bachinski. You must be Y/n's mother. You have a very beautiful home."

Mother smiled. "Why, thank you! What brings you around here?"

"Y/n invited me over to watch a movie with her and Noel. She is very kind and intelligent and patient."

She gave me a surprised, but impressed look. "That is fantastic to hear. Why don't you all step inside? It may only be the beginning of October, but it's quite cold! I have some hot chocolate in the kitchen."

Mischa set down his bag. "You are also very kind. I can see where she gets it from."

Mom laughed. "You're too polite, Mischa. I like you."
"Thank you so much. It's the least I can do. Y/n helped me study for a big English test and I got a one hundred percent on it today."

"Is that so?" she glanced at me.

I nodded. "Yeah. It's not too big of a deal. Mischa did most of the hard work."

He scoffed. "Don't give me all the credit. I could never have done it without your help."

I led them to the kitchen, where I handed out hot chocolates. Mischa took one sip, set the mug down, and immediately froze. I thought it had something to do with the drink, but fortunately, it wasn't.

"Is that your cat?" he asked, still frozen in place.

I nodded. "Yeah. Her name is Roxi."

"Roxi is very cute. Can I pet her?"

I smiled. "Of course!"

In a flash, he got down to her level, which was a bit of a feat considering how tall he was. He started scratching behind her ears and under her chin.

"Weird," Noel mused. "It took her years to even let me go near her. She must love you."

"Do you really think so?" Mischa asked with wide eyes.

Roxi was purring and rubbing against his legs.
"She definitely loves you," I answered.

"Well, I also love her very much. She is a very good cat."

...

Mischa made quite the impression on my mother, to say the least. She wouldn't stop talking about him for the entire night after he left.

Noel, however, had different things that he wouldn't stop talking about after he left.

You see, we started watching the movie. Roxi, of course, had followed Mischa into the living room and had jumped onto his lap the moment he sat down, much to his delight. Later on, maybe halfway through the movie, Mischa fell asleep. In doing so, his head may or may not have fallen on my shoulder and I may or may not have scooted closer. Noel had taken pictures to 'commemorate this monumental moment'. I did not particularly appreciate this.

...

Before heading off to sleep, I wanted to talk to my mom about something.

"Hey, mom?"

She looked up from her book. "Yes?"

"You know how the Grubers usually come over for Thanksgiving?"

"Of course. What about it?"

I drew in a breath. "Do you mind if I invite someone to our Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Depends. Who?"

"Mischa. He doesn't exactly have the best parents to spend holiday with, so I was wondering if we could have him over for his first Thanksgiving in Canada. Or Thanksgiving ever."

Mom looked ecstatic. "Of course! He was such a well-mannered young man. It is so nice of you to consider that. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you really like him."

"Mom!" I protested.

"I'm just saying, dear. Mischa is a very good option. He seems very sweet and hardworking."

"He is," I nodded.

"Y/n, do you have a crush on this boy?" She asked.

She looked serious.

I frowned. "I don't think so. It's confusing. Everyone is telling me I do, and I don't have the time to figure it out myself, you know?"

She gave me a quick hug. "I understand. Give it some time. Sleep on it. Have a good night, dear."

"Goodnight, Mom," I waved after her.