by Gen Phan
"Mmmm?" I mumble asked.
"I was thinking, that maybe mystery mint kisser isn't from our school."
Yes, she had a nickname people, and it was mystery mint kisser.
"Mmmm." I'm mumbling a lot now. But what the hell was I meant to say to that?
"What if she's one of Brenna's friends?"
"Mmmmm." My unblinking eyes are fixated on his face so unnaturally, I'm sure I looked like a creepy doll from a horror movie.
"Mmmmm?" he echoed playfully. "Is that a yes it could be, or a no it couldn't be?"
I shrugged casually, "Yeah... I guess hey. I mean... maybe and maybe not. Yeah. Anyway." I followed that useless sentence with another big shrug. I was trying to keep it all feeling so casual that it basically wasn't even a conversation. A non-conversation, that's what I wanted.
Mike laughed a little at my obviously over acted responce.
"And if she was," I asked, "How will you find out?"
Mike unexpectedly jumped off the windowsill and all his muscles did some kind of terribly hot rippling thing that should be illegal in several states. I was forced to turn away again. God I feel like such a perv sometimes.
"I'm going to have a casual get together at my house on Saturday night and ask Brenna to invite them?"
Wow! His statement made me feel like I'd just been punched in the face. I knew he was taking this thing seriously, but now it just seemed to be getting totally out of control.
"Well, enjoy yourself," I said dismissively.
"Hey. Hey." Mike rushed over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You're not bailing on me."
I shook my head hard. "Hang out with Brenna and the convent brigade on a Saturday night? I'd rather let my sister give me root canal thanks."
"But I need you, Maria." He flashed a downtrodden puppy dog look at me and I wanted to slap him, kiss him, slap him, kiss.... Arrraaggg!
"Please. I need you." He pleaded again.
"What for? So I can frisk them for packets of gum as they come in?" I pulled out of his grip. That bush-fire feeling was starting again.
"If that's what it takes." He smiled at me, then winked and then make a bee line for the window and started climbing out.
"Gotta go. Bye dude."
I face palm. Maybe a bit too hard. Crap! Suddenly I wish I was gay so I wouldn't have to deal with this.
Chapter 10 – Mike
After the week I'd just had, I was looking forward to the weekend in a huge way. I'd messaged Brett last night and told him of my grand get together plans involving his sister and her friends. He'd messaged me straight back...
"Dude, if you touch my sister, you're dead."
And so I was forced to swear to him that I wouldn't, even if she was mystery mint kisser, which I seriously doubted anyway.
My muscles felt stiff from all the exercise I'd done yesterday and it felt nice to shower in extra hot water. I wrapped my towel around me and walked back into my room. It was surprisingly quiet this morning. I couldn't hear my parents rushing around getting ready for work. My parents are both psychologists, which is just about the worst thing imaginable. Trust me.
Nothing is ever just nothing. It's always something, no matter how small or insignificant it really is. Everything is dissected and analyzed and picked apart. They read into your every word, your every gesture and tiny eye blink. Sometimes they drive me utterly mental with their desire to psychoanalyze the smallest thing. They'd probably even discuss my motivation for choosing a cheese sandwich over a turkey one if they could.
On the upside, they've always allowed me a huge amount of freedom. They believe in a "young adult's ability to self-regulate". Those are their actual words. They've never treated me like a child come to think of it. In fact, they've never been shy to talk to me like an adult; sex, drugs and rock and roll. Sometimes they take it too far though, like the time my dad walked into my room when I was thirteen and told me that because of the developmental phase I was currently going though, it was okay and perfectly normal to start "self exploration." It had taken me a few seconds to click and then I kicked him out of my room and couldn't look him in the eye for a week.
Sometimes it's downright embarrassing. And because they're always looking for the deeper meaning in things and analyzing everything, I choose not to. At all. I take things at face value. I never look for the deeper, psychological meaning in things. I don't study people's gestures, and tones and looks like my parents do. It drives me mad, so why would I do it to someone else? Some of my ex-girlfriends have called me clueless and dense when apparently I wasn't picking up on something important that they were hinting about. Apparently I can't take a hint. And they're right. That's because I don't look for hints and secret messages in everything everyone does. I don't have these psychological spidey senses.
That's what I like about Maria, she's straight down the line. I don't have to look at her and wonder what she's really thinking, she always says exactly what she thinks and means. She has no deep, dark secrets..K
I got dressed for school and packed my tennis stuff-more practice this afternoon-and went downstairs for breakfast. But when I got there something was very wrong- I didn't need spidey sense to see that . My parents were both sitting there quietly, as if they'd been waiting for me to come down. They both looked up to me with an expression I'd never seen before.
"Sit down, Mike." My father gestured with his hand. It looked serious and suddenly I was wondering if he was going to tell me that my grandmother had passed away, she'd been sick lately.
"What's wrong? Is it Gran?" I asked.
My father shook his head. "Your mother and I have something to tell you." My mother leaned in and looked at me.
I looked from my mother to my father and suddenly I smiled. I'm pretty sure I knew what this was all about, and of course they would make such a huge deal of it.
"I'm about to become a big brother?" I said with a smile. "That's a bit gross, but I can deal with it. No need to sit here and talk about our feelings and stuff-."
My parents shot each other a look that told me that I was way, way off the mark.
"Mike." My mother had her therapist voice on. "Your father and I have decided to get divorced."
"Sorry, what?" Clearly I hadn't heard that correctly.
My dad leaned in now and made a move for my hand, which I pulled away quickly.
"It hasn't been working for a while between your mother and I." He looked to her and she nodded at him, as if they'd spent hours discussing this, which they probably had. How could they be so calm?
"Your father and I have come to the mutual decision to go our own separate ways."
I shook my head hard. "Sorry, what?" It was as if I could hear the words coming out of their mouths, but I couldn't understand them. I looked from one to the other. Both of my parents leaned back in their chairs now, as if synchonized.
"We'll give you some time to process this information." My mother looked at my father again and there was some more mutual nodding. They are always nodding at each other, they always seem to agree, they never fight. So why were they getting a divorce?
"Just take your time, Mike." My father echoeed my mother's sentiment and it fucked me off. Hugely. I'm not one of their clients, I'm their son. This is not a therapy session, this is meant to be breakfast.
"It's okay to feel angry, son." My mother was looking at me as if she was about to write some notes down in her psychologist's notepad.
"Stay with those feelings." My dad said.
I could feel something bubbling up inside me. I wasn't even sure what it was, or if I could even control it anymore. The need to yell got more and more and grew and grew and-
"What. The. Fuck?"
"That's right. Let it out, Mike." My father stood and made a move over to my side of the table. I got up quickly and took a step back.
"Jesus, would you stop talking to me like I'm one of your patients. What do you mean you're getting divorced? You never fight. You've been married for
years or something. You're too old to get divorced. What the hell are you talking about?"
My mother got up too. "Your father and I got married very young and we both just feel that we've outgrown each other emotionally and we have learnt all we can from this relationship."
"What does that even mean?" I'm screaming now. But I'm not sure how to stop. How the hell am I meant to react like this? Surely this isn't right. Surely your parents don't just drop a bomb on you like this. Surely you see it coming. Surely there are clues leading up to this kind of thing. Okay, maybe there had been clues, but clueless me hadn't seen them.
"This doesn't change the way we feel about you though." My father just uttered that cliché. It's the first thing they tell children of divorced parents, this has nothing to do with you.
"God, for psychologists you really picked a great time to tell me, Friday morning before school. Right before the tournament. Great way to start the weekend!"
"There's never a good time to say something like this." My mother had come up to me and was laying her hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her; no tears, no emotion registered on her face. How was she so calm?
"Besides," my father said, "I start my new job next week and I will be moving soon."
"Moving?" This news almost shocked me more than the news of the divorce.
My mother and father clocked each other again, before both turning to me in unison. For two people getting divorced, they seemed to be in perfect sync.
"I got a very good research job, out of state." My dad said it so matter-of-factly that I almost couldn't believe it.
"It's only a few hours away, so you can come on holidays and long weekends."
"Absolutely," my mother piped up. "In fact, it will be great getting to know another city, broadening your cultural horizons. You've always said you've wanted to travel more."
Suddenly the divorce flew out of my mind and all I could think about was how crap it would be if I didn't spend my holidays with Maria. And I realized, that my parents getting divorced was about to change my entire life.
Chapter 11 - Maria
I drove to school that morning, thankfully. Because if my sister had been driving, I might have been compelled to throw myself out the window- I was already nervous. More nervous than I'd ever been in my entire life, because I... I was going to tell him.
It had gone too far. It was out of control. I needed to put an end to this mad charade. I hadn't had a second of sleep last night because I'd gone over it in my mind until my brain started to hurt and turned to mush. How the hell was I going to say it?
"Haha, it was a joke." "Hey Mike, guess what? Surprise! Joke! Hahah."
It had sounded so much better last night when I'd been mad from exhaustion. Now... it just sounded mad. This was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever done in my entire life. What if it ruined our friendship, and made it awkward? It was a risk I had to take though, because it was ruining our friendship already, for me anyway.
"Careful the pigeon." My sister screamed from the back and I jumped. She's always been the ultimate backseat driver, and it makes me even more convinced that she has eyeballs located somewhere else on her body. I have never seen anyone text while simultaneously say...
Careful the pigeon.
As if I am going to intentionally run the thing over, and since when did she care about pigeons, or anything other than herself. And how the hell had she spotted the little feathered thing from the backseat? We arrived at school and I took up my position outside the gate to wait for Mike. I knew he wasn't there yet, because if he had been, he'd be standing there waiting for me. I was glad he wasn't. It gave me a few more minutes to prepare myself. I had to keep reminding myself to breath. My body was tingling all over- hot and cold- with a palpable and very physical sense of painful anticipation. It was hot outside, but I felt shivery.
But when the final bell rang and Mike still wasn't there. I started to wonder if something was wrong. I sent him a few texts, which he didn't respond to and then tried to call him- no answer. He always picked up his phone, no matter what he was doing, and he always texted me back. I 'm overcome by a feeling that something was wrong, but I can't do anything about it right now, so I ran off to class. I consoled myself with the thought that maybe he was jogging to school and his phone was in his bag. But after two periods, still no Mike, I started to worry.
"Brett." I pulled him aside in the corridor. "Have you seen or heard from Mike today?"
He shrugged. "Nope."
"I think something's up, I can't get hold of him."
He looked surprised. "Has the telepathic link been broken?"
"The what?" I didn't quite get what he was saying immediately.
"You guys seem to communicate via telepathy, you always seem to know what the other one is thinking or doing. Mike says that anyway."
I nodded, I knew what he meant. Sometimes it did feel like we were communicating like that. "The link has been severed," I said.
"Well." Brett paused and looked like he is thinking about something. "Then I think the situation is grave indeed."
And I knew he was right. Something was wrong.
"Okay, I'm leaving. Cover for me. Say I'm sick or something."
Brett smiled. "And what fictitious illness should I conjure up for you?"
"Whatever. Tell them I have period cramps, I don't care."
I left Brett with a big smile across his face and I got the sense that he was going to make some kind of drama of this. Tomorrow at school people would probably be asking me about my dreaded disease. I didn't really care though.
I exited the gate and started a speedy walk to Mike's house. It takes about thirty minutes to get there and as I'm going, I'm still messaging and phoning him. And with every 'non-answer' I was getting more and more worried. This wasn't like him.
I finally arrived at his house after what felt like hours and Mrs. Matthews answered the door, which was strange because she should be at work.
"Mrs. Matthews, is Mike here?" I launched straight into it and her face immediately scrunched up in confusion.
"No. He should be at school, he left this morning, said he would jog there."
I shook my head. "Well he's not. And he's not answering his phone."
Panic flashed across her face and she called out, "Lionel. Lionel. Mike isn't at school."
His dad rushed to the door. "Hi, Maria. Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Mr. and Mrs. Matthews exchanged concerned looks.
"We told him we are getting divorced this morning."
"What?" I almost screeched it. I couldn't help it. I always thought these two had the perfect marriage. I always thought my parents were more likely to get divorced.
Mr. Matthews nodded. "He was pretty upset. He said he wanted to jog to school to clear his head. Do you know where he might have gone?"
I didn't need to think about it. I knew exactaly where he was.
**
Mike was sitting in the tree. I stood and watched him for a few seconds before calling out to him. He was fiddling with a branch, pulling the leaves off and chucking them on the ground. He looked miserable and my heart broke for him.
"Hey." I finally called out and he looked up. His face was pale and it had a shell shocked quality about it. I didn't blame him. Imagine having your parents drop that kind of bomb on you?
"I was worried about you. I tried to call."
Mike dug in his school bag and pulled out his phone. "Sorry. It was on silent for some reason." He managed a small smile. "If I didn't know you better, I would say you were stalking me. Ten missed calls and fourteen messages."
I tutted loudly. "You wish I was stalking you."
He smiled back as I climbed up into the tree and took up position on the branch.
"So...your parents told me." I said it tentatively because he looked genuinely upset.
Mike suddenly frowned and in that moment it looked like he was actually fighting back tears. He bit is bottom lip hard
.
"I'm seventeen years old for fuck's sake. I don't know why..." He tapered off.
"Don't know why this is affecting you so much?" I asked, knowing full well what he was going to say.
"Yeah." He finally stopped fiddling with the branch and looked up at me. His eyes were shining, moist, and it looked like a tear was about to escape them. I wanted to make it better so badly.
"Everything is going to change now. I don't want it to," He bit his lip so hard that it left a little indentation.
I moved closer to him and without thinking, draped my arm around him. I didn't really know what to say to be honest. I'd never gone through anything like this before.. And then, without any kind of warning, Mike tilted his head towards me until it was resting on my shoulder.
My heart quickened and I felt a little selfish for getting so much satisfaction of this moment. Him being so close to me. The moment was so intimate and I wanted it to last forever. And then suddenly, it become even more intimate.
He reached out and took my hand. I swallowed so hard I was sure he could hear it. He held it gently and then intertwined his fingers into mine and looked like he was examining it.
"I've never noticed how long your fingers are," he said with a smile in his voice.
"That sounds terrible." I said, wondering if I should be totally embarrassed by this. Did I have some kind of freakishly long fingers now?
"They're cute. Good for climbing trees." He let my hand go, lifted his head and turned to face me. Our eyes met and it feelt like.. Oh God... it felt like a meteorite slammed into my stomach.
"Are you bunking school for me?" He reached up and pushed a stray hair out of my face. My tongue was officially tied, because Mike was looking at me like he'd never looked at me before... well, at least, I think so. His face was so close, and all I needed to do right now was to lean in a little and our lips would be touching.
And then he did the unthinkable. Something he'd never ever done. He leaned in and suddenly I felt his lips on my cheek. It was quick, a tiny peck, but it was a kiss and it had my head spinning.
"Thanks. You're such a good friend Maria."
