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The First I Do

Page 3

by Sarah N. Ham


  “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

  “You don’t even know why I was angry!?”

  “No! So, if you’ll explain it, maybe I can properly apologize… since it’s apparently my fault.”

  “How can you not know!? You rej—.”

  “Oh, Maybelle, there you are.” A sudden voice interrupted.

  “Oh, uh, hello, Drake Parker…” I muttered, sighing.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to cut into your conversation, Maybelle and um… I forgot your name… no, don’t tell me… Mikey, right?”

  I could see Michael tense up at the nickname, so I corrected, “Um… Michael doesn’t like to be called ‘Mikey’. The jocks tease him by calling him ‘Mikey-moo’…”

  “Mikey-moo!? Why? That sounds stupid.”

  “Because we live together, and my name sounds like a cow’s name. Like I said, they like to call us married…” I explained, suddenly feeling depressed at the irony.

  “Right, sorry, Michael; my mistake.” Drake Parker mumbled.

  “It’s alright…” Michael whispered, “Hey, Belle, I’ll talk to you about this later…”

  “Michael, please…”

  “I promise you we’ll talk about it, but I’d rather talk about this in private. Besides, he needs to talk to you.” Michael said, walking away.

  I didn’t know why I was so disappointed, but I nodded and said, “What did you want to ask, Drake Parker?”

  “Oh, well, I’m new to town as you know, and I really don’t know all the local sights. I wanted to know if you’d like to go out with me and show me around.” He said.

  I blushed through wide eyes at this boy’s boldness and could see Michael freeze out of the corner of my eye.

  “As in a date?” I asked, shyly.

  “Yeah…” He said with a confident grin.

  I didn’t know what to say, but as Michael’s words, “I’m your husband” rang in my head, I said, “Um, you seem like a nice person, Drake Parker, and you’re definitely handsome… but I don’t know anything about you. I don’t date boys who weren’t my friend first.”

  His smile never wavered as he sighed and said, “I understand… He must be a great guy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The person you’re in love with, but know I’m not giving up.” He said with a wink as he walked away, leaving me dumbfounded.

  ***

  The rest of the day was a blur. I tried my best to act natural, but Drake Parker’s words shook me. At lunch, Naomi and I sat away from Michael and Eddie, his friend and Naomi’s boyfriend, shocking both boys.

  “We’re in enemy territory…” Naomi explained, glaring at Michael.

  Eddie rolled his eyes and smacked Michael in the stomach, saying, “What did you do now?”

  Naomi started to guide me away, but all I noticed was Michael curl up in pain at Eddie’s smack. ‘That shouldn’t have hurt him that badly…’ I thought.

  “Wait, if you’re mad at Michael, why am I deprived of girlfriend-bonding time, Naomi?” Eddie cried out.

  “You’re friends with the enemy!” She growled.

  Eddie smacked Michael even harder, causing Michael to cry out in pain to my concern. Then, Eddie grumbled, “What the h**l did you do to p**s them off so much?”

  “Ow, man, you gotta kick a man when he’s already down!?” Michael whined.

  I sat through most of lunch silently as Naomi chatted about a new eyeshadow she got, homework, violin practice, and so on. I was glad she was, though because it distracted me from thinking about Michael.

  Why, oh, why did I have to realize my feelings now of all times!? Now, I couldn’t look at him the same! My concern over his earlier display of pain, my eyes getting caught up in his copper-brown eyes, the wind causing his golden blonde hair to fly disobediently in his face, that voice that used to drive me crazy now sounded so adult-like, so masculine; all these things were suddenly in my attention.

  “You’d never want to be my wife…” His words rang in my ears. Did he really not get why I was upset!? I had to hold in the tears just at the thought of it.

  Chapter Eight – And the Bad…

  The whole day I was irritated by that darn Draken Packer guy’s words. Wasn’t he just the Casanova? Worse, after that theatrical display, he whispered to me, “I’ll give you a run for your money, Mr. Right…”

  What was that supposed to mean, but the wink he gave Maybelle made my skin crawl. I knew that I had said I would be willing to let Maybelle go, but it would be almost impossible to do so if it was to a tool like that guy. Seriously, oh, look, I’m a ladies’ man just because I’m from Alaska… whatever.

  So, to then face lunch with Naomi cattle herding her away from me, I was within inches of strangling Thomas when he tried to attack me again without surprise. Instead, I settled it by putting him on the ground with a one-armed shoulder throw. Then, I shouted, “Now, if you touch me or Maybelle ever again, I will damage much more than your pride and your chin!”

  Everyone were stunned, and his groupies quickly dispersed. I guess they didn’t realize that the nerdy Mikey-moo could hold his own. Eddie was even surprised, and he’d been my friend since kindergarten. Then, again, I think he was more shocked that passive Michael finally snapped, but I was having one of those days. Between Drake Parka—or whatever his name was—Thomas and his cronies, and Naomi’s Mama Bear tendencies, I was rather worn out and sick of it. After all, what on earth did I actually do to tick Maybelle off!? I never got the chance to clear that quandary up.

  ***

  Next thing I knew, I was in the principal’s office for “attacking” a student. My dad had to come down despite my insistence that it was in self-defense, and he pointed out that you rarely saw the one-armed shoulder throw used in offensive attacks due to the momentum needed to accomplish it. Then, when Thomas’s parents got there, they surprisingly backed me up. I apologized to his parents for putting them through this and said, “I don’t want trouble, but if someone comes after me or Maybelle, I will defend us.”

  “We completely understand, Michael. If our boy or his friends even thinks about pulling these stunts again, we will be there to personally hold him accountable.” Mrs. Kendrick growled.

  “But, Mom—.”

  “Thomas James Kendrick, I do not want to hear it. We have raised you better than this, and you’re lucky he took it easy on you.”

  “Mikey-moo’s just a little nerd.”

  “‘Mikey-moo’ as you call him is a regional champion in karate, parkour, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and judo. The boy’s got a black belt, for Pete’s sake!”

  “A black belt!? How would you know that?”

  “Your brother goes to the same karate dojo, and the teacher told me when I recognized his photo on their wall.”

  “Well, I’ll be d**ned. The nerd’s actually rather strong.” Thomas grumbled.

  “Thomas, language.”

  “Sorry, Mom…”

  “Sorry, again, Mr. Hawkins and Michael. Thomas, let’s go. I’m missing my soaps for this, and I got seven loads of laundry to fold.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  With that, the Kendricks left.

  “Well, I can’t suspend you on self-defense, but Michael, please, try not to repeat this.” The principal insisted.

  “I have no intention to, Mr. White. I just want to walk the halls in peace.” I mumbled.

  “You may go, Michael. Mr. Hawkins, sorry to inconvenience you.”

  “It’s no problem, Mr. White. Have a nice day. See you later, Son.” Dad said, heading out the door.

  ***

  When I returned, all eyes were on me. Word had gotten around of what I’d done. This was the reason I never told others about my martial arts training. I never used it for anything more than competitions and self-defense. I didn’t want people to think I was strong or could hold myself in a fight. It only complicated things.

  It was the look Maybelle gave me that stung the most… concern. She had this selfless lo
ok of concern for me in her eyes. I hated to make her worry or feel sorry for me. She’d done enough of that ever since my mom had died. I sat down in my seat next to hers and simply smiled at her when she asked if I was alright.

  Gosh, why did I have to fall for my childhood friend? I knew she’d never feel the same. Yet, when she looked at me like that, my heart started to pound painfully. She was just so d**n cute, and she didn’t even know it. Every other guy did, though, especially Derek Parker—or whatever… I still didn’t know, let alone care, what that Alaskan’s name was. Seriously, why was his name two names long…? One not enough for the guy? Whatever…

  So, I sat there in Pre-Cal/Trig class trying my best not to glance over at Maybelle for risk of her catching me staring, but it was so hard. I really wanted to know what I’d done to make her so mad. I’d p**sed her off more than a handful of times, yes, but she looked like she was in tears. I didn’t think I’d ever made her that mad before, and I didn’t even know what I did wrong. It was only a true statement, after all. Maybelle didn’t like me like that, so why would she want to be my wife?

  ***

  I got home later than Maybelle that night because of work, and when I got home, I was surprised to see all our folks were gone. I relaxed, though, when I found a note explaining that they had gone to bible study. I sighed and headed to my room, tearing off my shirt painfully from the bruised stomach. Suddenly, I heard a whimper come from the next-door room. ‘Maybelle…’ I thought to myself, concerned.

  I knocked lightly on the door and heard the whimpers cease.

  “B-Belle, may I come in?” I asked, hesitantly.

  “Um… one minute, okay?” She whispered.

  “Okay…”

  A few minutes later the door opened, and though, she had tried to hide it, I knew she’d been crying.

  “Belle, what’s wrong? Is this about last night?”

  “I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But, Belle, I do. I just want to know what I did because I’m racking my brain, and I just don’t get it.”

  “D**mit, Michael, are you freaking clueless!?” She suddenly screamed.

  “Apparently I am, so just spell it out, Maybelle!” I screamed back, irritated by her outburst.

  I regretted it immediately when more tears spilled over her cheeks.

  “Belle, I’m sorry; please don’t cry.” I muttered.

  “You just don’t get it, Michael!” She whimpered.

  I reached for her when the house echoed the sound of the doorbell. Angrily, I growled, “Who the h**l is that!? It’s already nine at night, for Pete’s sake!”

  She pushed past me, wiping her eyes and went to the door. I followed her and was even angrier when I saw who our unwanted guest was.

  “Drake Parker!? What are you doing here!? How do you even know where I live?” Maybelle asked, shocked.

  “Your friend, Naomi, told me. Belle, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” He asked.

  I turned red in the face as I growled, “What did you just call her!?”

  “Belle…? What’s the big deal? You call her that all the time.” He muttered.

  “Yeah, me, not you! You aren’t her childhood friend. You haven’t been in her life since her birth! You were already rejected by her, and you don’t know her. Don’t get so familiar with her!”

  “Michael, what’s gotten into you!? You’re acting petty!” Maybelle shouted.

  “I’m acting petty!? He freaking shows up at our house at nine in the evening like a stalker and calls you by my nickname for you, and I’m the petty one!?” I shot back.

  Suddenly Peter Parker—or whatever—had the nerve to burst into laughter.

  “What’s so d**n funny!?” I growled.

  “You are so oblivious and naïve, you have got to be a virgin!” He sputtered out between snorts.

  “What the h**l is that supposed to mean!?”

  “You’re jealous. You’re so jealous that she might like somebody else that you’re practically marking her as your territory!” He sneered.

  My whole face went red as Maybelle froze in shock.

  “Wh-what is he talking about!?” She whispered.

  “Let’s test it, why don’t we, Belle?” He said, suddenly.

  Before I could comprehend his words, he pulled Maybelle to him and kissed her forcefully and roughly on the lips! The blood drained from my face, and soon, all I saw was white.

  I don’t remember much until Maybelle snapped me out of it. In front of me lay a bloody Alaskan transfer student, coughing and spitting up blood from a busted lip. Maybelle was in tears and had slightly swollen lips from his kiss.

  I froze in horror, realizing I’d snapped and whispered, “I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “Michael…” Maybelle whispered, touching my shoulder.

  I tensed at her touch and dashed out the door.

  ***

  I ran, ignoring Maybelle’s cries of my name. I ran and ran until I reached the park. I sat on a specific bench and ran my fingers over the plaque, which read, “In Loving Memory of Luchia Hawkins, Wife, Mother, and Artist”. A single tear hit the plaque, and I couldn’t help it as I slouched over the bench, whispering, “Oh, Mom, what have I done!?”

  I must have stayed there for an hour at least. Eventually, when I had calmed down, I started back home, but I was so scared of what I’d expect there waiting for me.

  Chapter Nine – To Have and to Hold…

  I was shell-shocked by what had just occurred.

  “What a psychopath!?” I heard Drake Parker growl, wiping some blood off his chin.

  “Get out.” I whispered.

  “Wh-what!?”

  “Get the h**l out of our house!”

  “Belle!?”

  “Don’t call me that! That nickname is reserved for my husband only!”

  “Your what!?”

  “My husband! Now, get out while you have some pride left!” I shouted.

  Shocked, he rose to his feet and left, and when he was gone, I crumbled to the ground, more tears coming up. That idiot had stolen my first kiss just to prove a point, and he had caused a side of Michael that I hadn’t seen since his mom’s death to reappear. The main reason Michael had been put in martial arts was to find a safe venue to disperse the rage he felt at losing his mom. He hadn’t snapped like that in five years, and I hated Drake Parker at that moment for bringing out the worst in the man I loved.

  I knew where Michael had gone, but I also knew he needed to cool down, so I let him be. I warily headed to bed but couldn’t fall asleep.

  ***

  About an hour-and-a-half later, I heard the door open. I froze, wondering if it was him or the folks.

  “Belle… are you awake?” came my answer.

  I sat up and was shocked as Michael fell at the foot of my bed, shaking.

  “Michael!?”

  “Belle, I’m so sorry… I swore I’d never let that side of me get the best of me, again.”

  “It’s okay, Michael. I’m not mad.”

  “I am… I’m so disappointed in myself. I don’t know what came over me, but when he kissed you, I snapped.”

  “Michael, please, stop blaming yourself. I forgive you, so please, calm down.”

  “I can’t! I… just can’t think straight!”

  “Michael…why did you get so angry? Were you just trying to protect me?”

  “What, no, I…he’s right; I was jealous.”

  “J-jealous!? Of what?”

  “Of him getting close to you. I know it’s petty, but even though I know you’ll never be mine, I can’t bear to hand you over to a creep like that.”

  This made me so angry as I growled, “You are so selfish!”

  “Wh-what!?”

  “Oh, so it’s okay to reject me, but I can’t be with anyone else either!?”

  “What on earth are you talking about!? Since when have I ever rejected you!?”

  “Why do you think I’ve been
angry with you!? You said you wouldn’t want to be my husband!”

  “No, I didn’t! I said nothing of the sort!”

  “Yes, you did. You said, and I quote, ‘I also know you’d never want to be my wife.’”

  “That’s right, you would never want to be my wife; I never once said that I wouldn’t want to be your husband!”

  I blushed and muttered, “Wait, then, you would want to…?”

  “I… I don’t know; I mean, yes, I would, but I thought if that ever happened, we’d be adults, not toddlers when we got married. Still, you don’t like me like that, so why would you ever want to be my wife!?”

  My face was so red, and I could barely speak as I said, “Didn’t you listen to why I was so mad?”

  “Yeah, because you misunderstood me.” He muttered, still not getting it.

  “Yes, I misunderstood you. I thought that you had rejected me.”

  “Yeah, and I said that I didn’t. Why are you repeating yourself?”

  “Gosh, you are clueless, Virgin Boy!”

  “Huh!?”

  “I thought you were rejecting me…”

  He looked at me confused as to why I was saying this a third time. Then, it clicked, and his cheeks matched mine in color.

  “Wait, then, you—.”

  “Yes, silly Mikey-moo, your cow bride loves you!” I giggled.

  His jaw dropped, and he mumbled, “Y-you love me!?”

  I nodded, shyly.

  “I… I love you, too, Belle; I have for years.” He whispered.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. He glared and asked, “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because we’re both idiots! We convinced ourselves that the other only saw friendship when we could have just asked!”

  He smirked and started laughing, saying, “I guess you’re right. We’re both idiots.”

  “Still, it’s not like we’re married anymore, though. The folks already went to their lawyer.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. They couldn’t get it annulled.”

  “What, why!?”

  “We have to sign our consent on it to have it overturned. Without our signatures, they can’t do anything.”

  “Th-then, we’re still—.”

  “Yep, we’re still Mr. and Mrs. Michael Hawkins.”

 

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