Too Keen For Me

Chapter 21: Maine Man

I sat next to Miles as we drove to the airport to pick up his parents. I couldn't help but bob my foot up in down in the passenger seat as if that would help my nerves. All morning all, this was all I could think of. I had to impress them, and I wasn't sure if I could. All I wanted was the day to end.

Miles swore under his breath as he shook his hand.

My foot stopped as my attention turned to him. "Are you ok?"

"Just a flare-up. It'll pass," he said with a forced smile.

"You get them often, don't you?"

"When I get tired or exert myself a little too much, I notice it the most. But it's fine. I have been told that it'll get better," he said, grabbing my hand, pulling me out the front door.

"You know, I've never met anyone with MS." Since I found out he had it, I had spent time reading about the disease, but I had more questions that I was hoping he would answer.

He chuckled as he got on the freeway. "We do exist. It's not like we live at the hospital 24/7 or under a rock. We all have lives and....Oh dang, I just classified myself with them."

"You don't want to classify yourself with other people with MS?" I would think he would want to be with similar people. Dad always liked support groups. There was always support in numbers. At least, that was what my dad always told me.

"I would rather be an outsider." He smirked.

I rolled my eyes. He had questions about the disease, and I could see it terrified him, that's why he never wanted to talk about it. "Being an outsider is lonely," I said, speaking from experience.

He sighed as he chewed on his lip for a second. "Rodger wants me to keep quiet about it. It's not like I can go around to support groups. Word would get out."

If I had a penny for every time Rodger was brought up negatively... Of course, Rodger was behind this. He was always the one pulling the strings. Even if Miles wanted to participate, he couldn't. "How often do you have to get treatments?"

"For now, only twice a year," he said proudly as we parked the car in front of the airport. "Here we go."

"Here we go," I repeated as I followed his lead out of the car, trying to stand as tall as I could. I reached out to him, and he entwined my fingers with his as he stumbled into me. "Are you ok?" I asked with concern.

He nodded as he quickly regained himself. He pulled on his long sleeve polo shirt and looked at the sun as if some answer was written all over it. "It's just the flare-up. I'm fine, just overworked recently."

I wanted to ask more questions but instead I responded, "Well then, I'll be driving back."

He frowned but didn't protest.

"Maybe you should take a day or two off," I suggested.

He chuckled. "Maybe you should tell that to Rodger."

I smiled at him. "Maybe I should."

As we walked into the airport, I ran my hands through my hair to smooth it out, hoping it would calm my nerves. There was no running from this. Within minutes, his parents would know who I was, and our relationship would be shaped because of it.

Miles squeezed my hand then pulled on his sleeves, trying to cover his arms then put on his beanie. I wondered if he knew how confident he appeared as he walked into buildings. No beanie could hide his identity as flawlessly as he thought.

"Meeting my parents is not scary."

I shot him a look. Speak for himself, he didn't have to impress the parents of a pop star. "Yeah, it shouldn't be bad."