Complicated You; Sophisticated Me

Mika just stood there, feeling stabs and tugs and pulls at her chest: a feeling she never thought she’d ever feel again.

The beautiful girl’s eyes widened at her suddenly, as if noticing her for the first time.

That’s when she pulled away.

“Oh,” she said, looking up at Dylan and then at Mika, “I’m sorry; I didn’t notice you here.”

Impossible, Mika mused. I was standing here the whole time…right beside Dylan.

“I’m Heather Schmitt,” she smiled like she was proud of her name or something.

She had a beautiful face and long bleached-blonde hair that fell neatly on her shoulders, and the way she dressed was girly and lady-like too. Beside her, Mika felt like a dark witch since every part of Heather radiated with a glow of beauty and confidence.

To sum it all up, she was someone Dylan Sparks would rationally go for.

Dylan spoke finally, recovering from the sudden shock. “This is Mika Trace—my girlfriend.” He turned to Mika, “Heather’s a friend from middle school.”

Mika glared at Dylan.

He had the nerve to bug her about her private life, when he had filthy secrets he hid from her too.

Dylan Sparks was an idiot—

No, he’s retarded, Mika amended.

Her face flushed with some sort of anger she didn’t even want to think of, Mika pushed Dylan so abruptly that he was practically thrown back to Heather.

“I’m going home,” she said, this time struggling to make her voice completely monotonous, and failed.

~

Dylan was about to follow after as Mika stormed out of the house, when a hand stopped him.

“Don’t go,” Heather murmured, her eyes starting to well up. “I’ve come back from California to see you.”

He looked at her for a moment.

The girl he’d gone out for a year and a half. She was right in front of him, begging him not to follow the girl he was currently going out with under a strange circumstance.

The girl you promised to stay with, he reminded himself.

Heather was a part of his past—a part of the past he would not trade his present for.

He smiled slightly at Heather, and ran after Mika.

Mika was his present now, and Dylan wouldn’t want to let her go.

~

Mika panted wildly.

Why had she aimlessly run so hard?

Stupid, stupid, she scolded herself.

With her hands trembling, she pulled something out from her pocket—an inhaler—as the world seemed to spin around her.

She had made the mistake of not bringing her pills with her during their trip to Dennis’ beach-side home, and the inhaler didn’t do much help.

She breathed in the lavender scent, looking up at the dark sky. It was probably about seven in the evening, and her stomach was starting to protest.

Dylan was the stupid one, isn’t he?

Why was she telling herself that she was anyway?

She regained her balance shortly and hid the inhaler back into her pocket. On her other pocket, she took out her wallet and counted her bills.

Two bucks.

Shit, she cursed. I forgot my other wallet.

A good two bucks won’t get her anywhere. She’ll have to walk back to her apartment.

Dylan, that stupid mutt.

She shouldn’t have involved herself with him. Everytime Mika was with him, problems always come up.

Everytime she was with him, a series of emotions rush out of her and make her completely vulnerable.

And when she was, the memories from before played repeatedly inside her head like a tragedy movie being projected in front of a white screen.

Just like it did right now.

~

Dylan ran around, searching for her.

She couldn’t have gotten a cab, could she?

He ran towards the direction of Mika’s apartment, searching for any sign of her….until he found a girl sitting alone on a park bench, her long hair almost covering her face, from across where he was.

She was wearing the same black hoodie and a long skirt that flowed to her knees.

And she was crying.

He crossed the street, running, not even thinking of the cars that sped on the road.

~

She looked up on sudden impulse when Dylan’s voice called her.

The stupid idiot was running across the road while the go lights were still blinking!

Mika stood up abruptly, “That’s too dangerous!”

Cars were honking, but Dylan didn’t flinch and carried on.

“You moron!” Mika’s voice was breaking into screams now, “Get out of there! You might get—“

Dylan was now towering over her, completely safe and unharmed, a worried expression darkening up his face. His hand gently caressed her cheeks and wiped off the reminders of her weakness. “Why are you crying?”

How could he worry about her like that, when he could've gotten into an accident a few moments ago?

Mika’s gaze fell to the asphalt ground. “I’m not.”

He sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and bending slightly to wipe them off even more as they streamed down, “I’m sorry,”

That’s when Mika looked up and shot him her usual scowl, “You’re too full of yourself, aren’t you? I didn’t cry because she hugged you, you presumptuous imbecile.”

Dylan laughed, “I didn’t think you would cry over something like that, idiot.”

Mika raised an eyebrow.

“I did think, though, that you would get lost on your way back home. That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it?” he stated.

She shoved his hand away slowly, and looked up at him in the eyes. “You really think you know me, but that’s not it.”

Smart-assed dimwit, she wanted to add.

Mika turned away and started walking. Dylan trailed behind her wonderingly.

Her lips curled slightly, feeling amused for the first time, before she glanced over her shoulder at him, “Next time you cross the street, make sure a car hits you...”

Dylan mocked a glare at her, “Hey, that’s awfully rude—“

“...only then can you assume that I would cry for a fag like you,” she finished.