... And There She Was

Chapter 7

If she wasn't being taken to Disneyland, she wouldn't have gotten out of the car. Zoey reveled in being by Michael's side again, letting her senses become drunk on his smell, his presence, his looks...everything. She had butted up next to him in the car for the ride there, letting herself melt into his side. When they hit a pothole the size of a crater and the whole car went bouncing, Zoey let out a yelp and a laugh, snaking her arm into the crook of his to steady herself. Michael seemed to clutch his own arm closer to his body, effectively trapping hers within his own. She didn't complain. So there they sat, side by side, arm in arm, with at one point, Zoey's head lounging sweetly on his shoulder. Michael dipped his head slightly to the crown of her's, his eyes fluttering shut while letting the scent of her shampoo infiltrate his senses. It was....coconutty. Realizing they were sitting in the middle of the back seat, prime territory for some rear-view mirror spying, Michael glanced up to catch Bill's gaze. Bill quickly averted his eyes, suppressing a proud, fatherly grin behind his concentrated façade.

"He's so gone..." the older man thought to himself, amused and elated.

As Bill steered them into the Anaheim area, Zoey perked up in her seat, craning her neck to look out the window, trying to find a speck, a morsel of Disney. Michael could only chuckle at her eagerness.

"We're almost there," he said, glowing.

"I don't think I can wait!" she squealed.

He reached out to gently pat her knee whilst shaking his head, in love with her enthusiasm.

Finally, Bill rounded a corner into a parking lot.

"Alright kids, everybody out of the pool." He said.

Zoey flung her door open and jumped out. Michael did the same, when he remembered to reach back in and pull out a dark blue Dodgers hat from the back seat. He pulled it snugly over his ebony curls. With the ball cap, glasses and casual attire, he looked like any other man there. But Zoey knew of the gorgeousness hiding under his "disguise".

"Ready?" He asked.

"Mmm hmm!"

They walked down the street for a bit before rounding the corner to the entrance of the park.

And there it was....

The letters of "Disneyland" splayed out in an arch above the glowing pavement of the park's front entrance.

"I can't believe I'm actually here," she croaked out.

They made their way past the vans and busses that had shuttled in visitors from neighboring schools and hotels. When Michael began leading her past the ticket booths, she became confused.

"Don't we need tickets?" She asked.

"I've got mine. We need to get yours finished."

"Finished? I didn't know there was a process to it."

"You'll see."

As they walked towards the back side of the ticketing area, Zoey glanced to her right to see the artfully arranged flower garden in shades of red, pink and orange that rested beneath a picturesque, fairy tale train station that covered up the shiny black steam engine, awaiting its next load of passengers.

Michael kept on walking, before feeling the absence at his side. He stopped to look back, finding Zoey several paces behind him, having glued to her spot in awe to look at the landscaping and train station. He smirked, before retracing his steps backwards to claim his girl.

"We'll get there, don't worry..."

She just mumbled in astonished response and pointed at the train, as he tried to guide her forward, laughing.

They arrived at a quaint blue shack that looked slightly unlike the other ticket counters towards the front of the entranceway. Zoey glanced upwards to see an elegant wood sign with the words "Annual Passport" carved into it on a di-cut.

"Annual pass? Mike?"

Michael opened the door for her, not responding yet.

"After you," he motioned for her to step inside.

She slowly stepped inside the shack and took in her surroundings. An older looking man made his way over to Michael and Zoey, and Bill who had been following them at a distance. Far enough to stay out of their date, but close enough to thwart any fan attacks if necessary.

"Hello Mr. Jackson!"

"Hey Tom!" Michael replied, firmly shaking the man's hand.

"And you must be Zoey!" he said, now reaching for her hand.

"I am..." she said, a confused smile on her visage. Yet another person who knew of Zoey prior to their introduction.

Tom and Michael exchanged some customary pleasantries before he turned back to Zoey.

"Alright Miss, we just need to take your photo, and you're good to go for your annual pass."

" Annual pass?!" She stared at Tom, bug eyed.

"Yep! Let me just go check in with our photo machine and I'll come and grab you when it's ready."

She looked at Michael with shocked, wide eyes. He returned her glance, a guilty smirk splayed across that gorgeous mouth.

"Mike...it's...I can't..." she stammered.

"Happy Birthday Number Two." He said smoothly.

"But....an annual pass? It's too much!"

He shook his head. "Nothing will ever be too much for you, Zoey," he said confidently, and yet with that shyness that made her knees weak. He suddenly blushed a little, as his fingers traced imaginary doodles on the countertop he had been leaning on with his elbow as support. "Besides....", he continued with a shrug, "I plan on bringing you here. A lot."

Now it was Zoey's turn to blush crimson. She knew any objection was futile at this point. She could only continue to look at Michael in amazement, a well of emotion beginning to brew up in the pit of her stomach. Their moment was interrupted by Tom waving her back towards the camera.

"Zoey, we're ready."

She gave Michael a defiant smile and a shake of her head as she reluctantly made her way pass the counter. She was instructed to stand in front of a large white canvas while her picture was taken for her pass.

"Feels like getting my driver's license all over again," she laughed upon returning to Michael's side.

A few moments later, Tom returned with Zoey's newly laminated annual pass. Her smiling face looked out at her, haloed by her wavy scarlet hair, along with her name and details of the pass.

"Is this why you needed to know how to spell my name?" She asked him, putting 2 and 2 together.

"Yup!" he grinned proudly at his undercover ways.

"Sneaky son-of-a-gun." She mumbled, fighting the curl of her lips.

Michael and Bill said their 'thanks' and 'see ya laters' to Tom as they made their way out of the shack, Zoey still staring at her most recent present from Michael.

"Um, Tom?" she called back

"Yes miss?" he answered back, stopping in his tracks.

"This pass says 'premium' on it. What does that mean?"

Tom smiled. "Premium passes grant our guests unlimited access to the Disneyland park, as well as all of the DisneyWorld resort attractions in Orlando, including Epcot, which just opened." He gave the counter a couple of friendly thumps, as he waved again to Michael and Bill before disappearing to the back of the processing area.

Zoey stood in the doorway, stunned before looking up at a sheepish Michael, grinning at her in victory.

"Disney World?" she asked, a hint of amused frustration to her voice.

He gently put his hand on her shoulder, leading her out of the shack. They began their walk towards the ticket takers at the kiosk stands at the entrance to the actual park. His hand slid from her shoulder down the dip of her spine until it settled into the groove of the small of her back. Zoey knew that Michael knew he could get her to submit to most anything with this toe-curling gesture.

He stooped down slightly, his warm breath tickling the fine hairs of her ear.

"Mmm hmm. I was thinking of, maybe, taking you there a lot, too."

"But it's in Florida.

"And?"

She turned her head slightly to look at him, their faces but inches apart as they gazed longingly into each others eyes.

"You're something else, you know that Mike?"

He let her comment sink in for a few seconds before retorting. "Funny," he said. "I was thinking the same thing."

Michael watched her, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as, as she got her first look at Main Street, just beyond the front gates. She looked like a child, the wonder and amazement brimming in her eyes, her mouth agape in excitement at seeing this magical world for the first time. They slowly strolled down the street, Michael pointing out certain shops, the best places to eat, as well as which rides were in which direction. He knew Disneyland like the back of his hand. Zoey peppered him with questions left and right about Walt Disney, and the park. Not surprising, he knew most of the answers.

He knew he was taking a risk, being so out and open in the park. Generally, he would become hassled so much by gawkers, it just became easier to have staff escort him through the labyrinth of underground tunnels that were for employee use. They would then sneak him on rides, minimizing the chance of a full blown mob scene. But, he reasoned, that's not how you experience the park. To really get completely taken in by its magic, you need to walk the grounds, see the sights, be with the people. He couldn't rob Zoey of that experience. And so, he decided, he would do his best to be incognito as possible. The hat and sunglasses seemed to doing the trick so far, as no one had yet to pay him any attention all down Mainstreet.

"Ooh, look! A fudge maker!" Zoey squealed, running up to a window where two chefs were hand making fudge, for all to watch.

Michael followed her, as he sauntered up behind her as she watched the fudge makers make the candy shop's first supply of fresh chocolate treats.

Zoey felt his presence behind her. Masculine, protective. There was something about standing in front of him as he loomed over her that made the always present butterflies flap even harder within her tummy. He had done it several times at his house last week while she would look at animals, and every time Zoey had been shocked that she hadn't fallen into one of the pens due to her knees buckling.

"Do you want some fudge?" he asked, crooning gently in her ear.

"Later, too early," she answered, though continuing to watch in awe.

"Why do they smudge it all over that table?" Michael asked. "I've always wondered..."

"They're cooling it down," she answered softly, her eyes not leaving the workers. "They have to cook all the ingredients together, making sure everything mixes properly, all the sugar dissolves. Then they put it on that table, which is marble. You see, marble is always cool, no matter where you are in the world," she looked up to meet him, "and then they smear it around and gather it up...smear it around and gather it up until they bring the temperature down. Then they put it in the pan for shape."

Michael listened intently, taking in all she had just said. Zoey was just as passionate about baking and sugar arts as he was about music.

After a polite nod and a quick wave from the chefs, they continued on their way down the main causeway.

"Where did you learn how to do all that stuff?" Michael asked.

"My mom," she replied with a shrug. "She remembered baking with her mother when she was very little. Very little. When she moved here to America, she would spend her evenings and summers working in various bakeries and dessert shops, learning the trade. It's how she learned to speak English, too." Zoey began to chuckle. "She told me one of the first phrases she learned how to say besides the typical pleasantries was 'One cup or two'. One night when I was still teeny tiny, according to her, I stumbled down to the kitchen and threw flour all over the place. The counters, the cabinets, the floor...everything. When she woke up and found the kitchen covered in white, she had asked me why I had done it. 'Zoja! Why?!'" Zoey recalled, laughing. "She says I just looked at her, completely innocent, and said 'Because you do it, mommy'. And that's when she started to teach me everything she knew. She never made a job of it, she wanted to work with children instead, which is why she became a teacher. But I don't ever remember a night going by that she didn't make something sweet..." she trailed off.

"They, your parents, were Polish, right?"

"Mmm hmm."

"What was that named you used? Zo-jaw?" He fumbled, butchering the word.

"No," Zoey laughed. "Zo-zsha," she said, elongating the last syllable to demonstrate its tricky pronunciation. "Like Zsa Zsa Gabor. It's my given name."

"Zo-zsha," he repeated, getting it right this time. "Zoja is your real name?"

"Yeah. Zoey is just a more Americanized version of it. Easier to say, easier for others to figure out. And plus, try saying Zoja Jansen 5 times fast. It's a tongue twister of J's for a little kid. And don't even ask what my dad's real last name was, cause it wasn't Jansen!"

"What was it?" He asked anyways, defiant.

"Janchyshyn." (Yawn-she-shin)

"Good grief." He rolled his eyes.

"Told you not to ask! My mom agreed to let me go by Zoey when I was around 9."

"Your mother sounded incredible," Michael offered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She was. They both were." Zoey looked at him with a gentle nod, eager to change the subject. Wishing at some point that she would open up more to him about her parents was something Michael had thought about since dinner at his house, but he knew that now was neither the time nor the place, though he was content for now with this mini-breakthrough.

"ALL RIGHT," she chirped, "where to first? I'm ready to ride some RIDES!!" A maniacal look of glee washed over her face as she clasped her hands in a tight fist just below her chin.

Michael gave a loud chortle. "Now that's what I like to hear! Well, that way is Tomorrowland," he said, pointing to the right, with his left hand. "That way is Adventureland," he pointed the other way with his other hand, his arms crossed at the elbows. "Behind us is Fantasyland," he stuck a long leg out behind him. "And...that way is Frontierland. I can't point to that one, I'm out of limbs."

Zoey giggled at his silliness, shaking her head. "Okay, Scarecrow. How about we start in Tomorrowland and work our way around."

Michael unfolded his gangly limbs back into a normal stance. "Sounds like a plan."

__________________________________________________ ______________


Zoey had never laughed so much, and so hard in her life. Each ride thrust and flipped the two of them every which direction, barely giving them time to catch their breath. Michael had made her raise her hands up in the air during Space Mountain, not allowing her to hold on to the handbar for the entire ride that whirled them around in the darkness. She insisted that her shoulder had been dislocated on a particularly tight corner, though her laughing suggested otherwise. Similar happened on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, only this time she had tried to lower them only for Michael to pry her hands off the bar and forcefully hold them up. He got a playful couple of swats for that.

They did every single ride. They twirled themselves dizzy on the Mad Hatter's Teacups underneath the colorful 'paper' lanterns strung through the trees, after Michael had done a quick jig to the tooting sounds of the calliope music. When the ride had been stopped and the pair could no longer spin their cup, Zoey had dizzily looked to see Michael's state when she noticed an errant strand of her hair had whipped into his mouth during the ride. He was laughing at what he surely looked like, dizzy, haggard, with a clump of hair in his mouth, but was too disoriented to care just then. They removed the crimson lock before staggering out the exit like a couple of slaphappy drunkards. Just after, she started to put her hair up in a band to avoid more moments like that, but Michael had protested.

'Why?' Zoey had asked, still somewhat shell shocked after their manic twirling.

'Because I love watching it move!' he said. 'It's like your mane.' The hair stayed put.

They giggled right alongside the toddlers on tiny-tot rides such as Pinocchio, Alice in Wonderland and Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. They sat close on the peaceful Storybook Canal ride, engaged in a sea battle on Pirates of the Caribbean (Michael's favorite) and stole dreamy-eyed glances at each other whilst riding hand-carved horses on King Arthur's Carousel. Michael had taken off his glasses for this one. They were side by side, resting their tired heads on the golden pole of the bobbing horses, lost in each other. No laughing, no playing, and no words were needed on this ride. Just them.

And even though it was breezy, they still went on the Matterhorn Bobsled, a flume-like water ride that guaranteed to get its riders at least a little bit wet. On the final hill, she had tried to tuck her head into her jacket, turtle-like, to avoid getting too wet. Michael had thrown an arm around her shoulder with an 'Oh, no you don't!' and held her wrists tightly, not allowing her to cover up. They both got a face full of water. Their 'bobsled' waded in the water after the hill as it coasted to the unloading dock, with Zoey still wrapped in his arms, her back to his chest as their bodies shook together from their laughing.

"I can't believe you did that!" she had yelped. "I'm SO wet!" Michael couldn't answer, he was laughing so hard.

After exiting the ride, as penance for getting her wet, he sneakily plucked a yellow Gerbera Daisy from a small floral display and asked Zoey to tuck her hair behind her left ear, as he securely situated the stem within her dense locks.

"Why the left?" she had asked.

"Ever been to Hawaii?" he asked as he got the flower in as safe as he thought it could go.

"No...why?"

"No reason," he shrugged, though with a very smug smile. "They just wear flowers there a lot."

While walking closely through the park, their hands would occasionally bump each other while their arms were gently swinging. When they sauntered up to the line leading into the Haunted Mansion, their hands bumped again. Instead of bashfully flinching away like they had been doing all day, neither one wanting to make the move, this time Zoey felt the soft tickle of Michael's fingertips slowly walking their way down across the palm of her hand, as he slid his long fingers in the spaces between her own. Zoey leaned into him, resting her temple upon his shoulder, and they remained that way the rest of the day, parting only when necessary.

They had also ate themselves almost silly. Michael was typically a very conscientious eater, and concerned about what he put into his body...but not today. They had everything you could think of. Candy, sodas, popcorn, French fries, a giant ice cream sundae, hot chocolate (after the Matterhorn, naturally). They were positively stuffed, but not so much that they couldn't hit up every ride at least one more time.

Michael was having, perhaps, the best day of his life. Not only was he with Zoey, he was at one of his most favorite places in the whole world, and he had been able to spend the day virtually unbothered--a true rarity. The stars must have been aligned that day. Come to think of it, ever since he had met Zoey, the stars had seemed to be aligned for him quite a bit. Only twice, did a couple of teenagers notice him through his disguise of the hat and glasses, but they were extremely polite and quiet about it, careful not to cause a scene. Michael had happily scrawled a quick couple of autographs for the kids, and posed for a picture, but only after they had ducked into a corner. He had raised up a long index finger to his supple mouth in a "shhh" gesture, and the kids nodded eagerly, respecting his wishes.

The end of the evening was nearing, and the pair (with Bill in tow behind) slowly strolled hand-in-hand back towards Mainstreet for the end of evening parade and fireworks.

"Which ride was your favorite?" Michael asked, gently swinging their arms back and forth.

"Oh geez....probably," she paused in deep thought. "Probably Space Mountain. I like that it's in the dark. Though something hit me in the face when we were on it once. I think someone's gum flew out of their mouth!" she laughed, slightly disgusted.

Michael guffawed loudly. "Ya know, I think that happened to me once too! They should put on the signs up front, 'No pregnant women, no bad backs, and no gum chewers'!"

"I second that!" She let out a soft groan. "I am exhausted. My feet hurt."

"Let's find a spot to sit for the parade, then." Michael had long since taken off his hat and sunglasses, a wave a confidence in him since he had spent the day so blissfully undetected—a bizarre rarity.

They found a spot in the grass towards the end of the parade line, back towards the 'It's a Small World' attraction. The crowd seemed to be more scarce back there, as everyone was clamoring to be up towards the front of the route.
.
They settled in their spot that was somewhat behind the crowd gathered moreso towards the curb of the street, giggling like a couple of love struck teens as they recounted their day with each other. Bill happened to come across an old police colleague of his, so once content that Michael and Zoey were unbothered, he went to join him and his family to catch up on lost time.

Though Michael and Zoey's interaction with each other was as smooth and easy as ever, the romantic tension between the two was palpable. Touching, teasing and giggling like children. After about 20 minutes, they could see the lights of the parade making their way towards the performance stop in front of them. Zoey watched in glee as the Disney characters danced down the streets, pulling up crowd members to join in on the fun. She saw Mickey and Minnie, of course, but also Pluto, Goofy, Donald and many others. The "floats" of the parade were unlike any she had seen, as they were swathed in various colors of twinkle lights. Festive music blared over the loud speakers, as the floats rolled past, housing various Disney princesses. She was blown away by how magical the whole place was.

Michael, on the other hand, had seen this parade probably 100 times. This night, he hadn't seen one second of it, his eyes were so intently locked on Zoey, watching herwatch the parade. The darkness of the night had set in, and the only light available was of the parade, and the faint dim of the street lamps lining the street. No one was paying them a second thought, no one was staring at the guy they thought "maybe, might, sorta kinda look like Michael Jackson". No one else mattered.

He continued to hold his gaze upon her, their hands intertwined together, as he slowly scooched closer to her, inch by inch.

There had not been a moment the whole day when Zoey hadn't felt Michael's presence, and at this moment she knew that it was not only there, but getting closer. Her heart began to bang like a bongo drum against her rib cage. There were no llamas, no little sisters here to spoil this moment. It was upon them.

Her breathing became shallow as her attention broke away from the ruckus of the parade taking place in front of her. The screams and laughter of the little kids perched atop their daddy's shoulders were drowned out by her thumping heart. She felt his gaze boring into her temple, his body inching closer to her own. Their hands were intertwined. Slowly, she began to turn her face to his, keeping her body still. Her tongue quickly darted out to moisture her lips, now slightly dry from her shallow panting. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered wildly as she finally lifted her eyes to meet his.

His regal, chocolate eyes were darker than ever, filled with both lust and nervousness, his full lips slightly parted. The hand that wasn't clutching hers reached behind him, planting his weight into the ground. Their faces were but millimeters apart, their eyes still open and locked. Zoey could see the lights of the parade floats sparkling in the reflective glassiness of his orbs.

Her heart, his heart...still hammering in their chests from nerves and anticipation. From love.

Michael leaned in slightly to gently brush the tip of his nose against hers. The sensation sent shock waves through her body, as her eyes finally fluttered shut. Zoey took one last intake of breath when Michael tilted his head, before he ever so softly.....and ever so slightly....pressed his lips upon hers.

He tasted of cotton candy.

And.....maraschino cherries.

Michael pulled away only to come back for more, dipping his head the other way and gently plucking her lips with a tenderness Zoey had never experienced. His warm nose settled into the crook of her own, as they melted into their embrace, his exhales tickling her sensitive skin. He let out a low, rumbling moan that sent her senses into overdrive.

Michael continued to sweetly kiss his girl. The hand that had been planted behind him, found its way to her face, caressing her jawline and cheek as his lips continued to explore every inch of hers. Zoey's other hand reached up to rest upon his strong forearm. Their embrace became deeper and deeper, shutting out the rest of the world. Only when the fireworks starting going off, booming loudly above them, did Zoey slightly flinch, startled, breaking the contact briefly. Her eyes opened just enough to see Michael's perfect grin, before he moved in to claim her lips once again.

She could have sat there kissing him for hours. This perfect, incredible man she had been falling for from the moment she first met him.

In the haze of their tender embrace, the sounds of the parade slowly dissipated, signaling the end of the day.

Michael gave Zoey one last deep sweep of his lips, before finally plucking her trembling top lip tenderly as he reluctantly ended the contact, resting his forehead against hers. His thumb caressed the side of her chin as his fingertips danced along her jaw. Her hair tickled his face.

Finding their way back down to Earth, they pulled apart, each blushing a deep shade of scarlet and smiling shyly. Oh, how he wanted to move in for more, but knew that if he did, he'd never stop.

Michael stood up and held his hands out for Zoey to grasp as he hauled her up, doing this much more successfully than he did upon their first meeting, when he had nearly dropped her. Their arms snaked around each other, their hands finding that now-familiar position of being interlocked. They began to walk across the street where Bill was still talking to his friend. As soon as the pair strolled up to him, he could tell something had happened. They were both positively glowing. After Bill said his goodbyes with his friend, the threesome started their journey towards the exit of the park. Zoey snuggled up closely to Michael, the hand that wasn't grasped within his, reached over to hold onto his arm. Michael felt the entire length of her torso, snuggled up to his arm, her head resting on his shoulder as they matched the pace of their walking, stride for stride.

So that was that. They had finally kissed, and it was more than they could have hoped for. It wasn't simply a kiss, the meeting of two mouths. It was trust. It was passion. Friendship, love. It was a promise to each other, that what they were doing, what they were, was real.

They wordlessly made their way down Mainstreet, still able to take in the sights and sounds of the souvenir shops that were still open for business. Michael suddenly stopped, gently tugging Zoey towards the entrance of one called the "Penny Arcade".

"Mike, what'r----" she whispered.

"Come on," he said, a mischevious glint in his eye.

He led her towards the back until they stood in front of a large box with a curtain. A photo booth. Michael waved for her to step inside. He fed a crisp $1 bill into the machine, then joined her on the tiny seat, making sure to shield them well by pulling the curtain tightly shut. The machine clicked off 6 pictures. The first three were of the pair goofing off, making silly faces. Zoey, bugging her eyes out at the camera, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, while reaching up and squishing Michael's face with her hand as he crossed his eyes and stretched his ears away from his head. The last three were simple, and sweet. The first one, both of them smiling into the camera as they rested their temples upon one another. The second, staring into each other eyes, each tucking their bottom lip between their teeth—a habit they now realized they both shared. And the third, a tender kiss.

They stepped outside the booth to retrieve their strip of pictures, laughing like fools at themselves at the ones at the top, and blushing at the ones towards the bottom. Michael safely tucked the strip in the inside pocket of his jacket.

The car ride home was silent. Bill, up front driving with Michael and Zoey in the back, just how they had arrived. Michael's arm was wrapped around her, and she had fallen asleep in the crook of his neck, her shallow exhales of breath swathing his neck in warmth. She was exhausted from the best birthday present she had ever had. Eventually, the soft jolt of the car stopping had her stirring.

"Zo," Michael whispered, rubbing her arm. "We're home."

"Mmmm?" she moaned, rubbing her sleepy peepers.

"C'mon," he said, opening his car door, getting out to walk around to her side. She staggered out of the car with Michael's assistance, and after a nod from the nighttime guard at the gate, they crossed into the courtyard of the condo community towards Zoey's unit.

Stepping up to her porch, Zoey turned back to Michael, who had stopped one step below her. Their heights were now just about matched. The buzz of her porch light hummed in the background, and the planks of her cozy wooden porch creaked under their weight.

Zoey reached out to pinch the corkscrew of ebony hair on Michael's forehead. His eyes crossed as he watched her hand and smiled, wondering what she was going to do. She tugged the curl downwards, making it completely straight, before letting it go, laughing as it boinged back into its tight spiral.

"Sorry, I've wanted to do that for the longest time now," she said, chuckling softly.

"So silly," was all he said, shaking his head.

A few moments of silence encapsulated the pair, before Michael broke the silence.

"Did you have fun today?"

"The most. Ever." She stressed these words, hoping her sincerity was coming across. Because it had been, literally, probably...the best day of her life.

"Thank you for my birthday present, even though it's way too much," she added, patting her jacket pocket which housed her shiny new premium annual pass.

"It's not, and you're welcome. Keep track of it, you'll be using it a lot."

"Count on it."

"Well...." "So..." They had said at the same time. He was looking at her in that way again. Her heart rate picked up rapidly as she became flustered and began to ramble.

"I, uh...the shop is closed tomorrow...so if you could...and, well... wanted to, ya know..."

"Definitely," he answered, cutting her off as he closed the gap between them, kissing her softly.

Zoey locked her knees, knowing for sure that a standing kiss with Michael would be much different than a sitting kiss with Michael. At least when they had been sitting, she didn't have anywhere to fall. Such was not the case now.

The tender brushes of Michael's fingertips in their kiss during the parade, were now replaced with his whole hands cupping her face, holding her steady and firm under the ministrations of his soft lips, with Zoey's finding their way to grasp at his wrists. He deepened the embrace.

She groaned softly as he nipped at her lip, as one of her hands reached out to caress the smooth hair behind his left ear, making him shudder. They just kept kissing, and kissing, and kissing. For....hours, it seemed. Making up for lost time, perhaps.

They eventually pulled apart, the separation of their lips making a delicate smacking sound. They both drunkenly opened their eyes to gaze deeply at one another. Michael slowly removed his hands from her face, letting his fingertips drag down the length of her jaw before they finally settling back at his side. He shyly stuffed his hands in his pocket, as he took a backwards step, easing himself off of her porch.

"Tomorrow?" he said, huskily.

Zoey could only feebly whimper an affirmative response, as they finished their goodbyes. She watched him walk away down the path of the courtyard, as he looked back a few times to see her still glued to her spot on the porch, before ducking into the car to be driven home. Although feeling completely outside her body, she manged to fumble around in her purse for her house keys, and she let herself in. She floated back into the house. Floated into the kitchen to feed Sophie a very late dinner, and then floated up to her bedroom where she clumsily changed into her pajamas.

Toddling back downstairs to the large hutch in the living room, she opened a drawer and pulled out a brown wooden box. She plucked the Gerbera Daisy from behind her ear and gently placed the flower in the memory box. After briefly clutching the box to her chest, she put it back in its spot, before moving over to a different set of cabinets housing a set of Encyclopedias her dad had given her for her 10th birthday. Scanning the spines of the books before pulling out the one labeled 'H', she flipped to the pages about Hawaii, hoping to find an answer to what she knew might be an obscure question. To her surprise, and pure luck, she did. Staring slack jawed at that passage under "Flowers; Customs" she read, and read, and re-read the passage, letting it sink in.

"In traditional Hawaiian culture, a woman will wear a flower hair pick not only for its beauty, but to signify her romantic status. If the flower is situated behind her right ear, it means she is available for suitors. If the flower is behind her left ear, it means she is taken. The reason for the distinction is that the heart is closer to the left side of the body. Therefore, her heart has been claimed."

Her insides became warm, her skin tingling, as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Sneaky son-of-a-gun."

She would dream of him that night. His smile, his warmth, his smell. The way he looked at her, the way he held her hand. They way she would tremble under the pressure of his lips. Was it possible to love every single thing about someone? Zoey knew in the beginning of relationships, you're always blinded by love, thinking your new partner is the epitome of perfection. But with Michael, he really was. Perfection. She couldn't see herself ever not loving his gentle demeanor, his love of fun, his silliness, his talent, his strength, his loving nature.

Echoing Bill's private thoughts from much earlier in the day, Zoey 'was sooo gone'.