All I Wanted

I grabbed my back pack, filled with 2 days worth of clothes, my cell and keys. I looked out my door, making sure I had a clean get away. I opened the door, smelling the spring air.

"Sunny!" a voice called, sitting at the far left of my porch.

"What?" I asked tiredly.

"Where have you been?" Mikey met me, his eyes full of worry.

"Painting," I said sarcastically.

"I'm serious," he looked so tired, "I've been out here all day, waiting for you."

"Just go away Mikey," I said locking my door, "I'm leaving anyway."

"Where are you going?" he asked as I jogged down the porch.

"Away."

"Where?" he chased me.

"Nowhere," I answered.

"Wait, please," he took my arms as I prepared to get into my car.

"What?" I shouted at him, "What do you want from me?"

He dropped his hand, "To talk. We need to...about last night."

I shook my head, the tears coming quick, "No. I refuse to." I got into my car, closed and locked the door.

Mikey looked at me, staring those sad hazel eyes at me. I felt bad for leaving him, it wasn't his fault, but I wanted to be alone.
-

The drive up to Michigan was fast and clear; not a single car got in my way. It took me a while to find my way around, but I found the same lake, the same camp ground, and I was moved to tears about it. I couldn't stop crying once I parked; they just swept my face and took over. I leaned my knees up to my chest, putting my face between the space and continued to sob. I had the music up, not too loud, blaring the Rolling Stones.

I don't know how long I sat in that position, but it was long enough for me to stop crying, and to doze off.

I was awaken by loud tapping at my window. I stirred slowing, feeling a pinch in my neck and my body ache a little. I looked up, rubbing my eyes; it was a cop.

I sighed, turning on the car to roll the automatic window down.

"Ma'am, are you Sunny Romero?" the cop asked, making his thick mustache twitch.
"Yes," I answered groggily, squinting to get a good look at him.

He turned to his right and nodded. I looked out, sitting my knees down. I looked to see a figure making it's way over, and the cop stepping back.

"Do you feel better?" it was Mikey.

I groaned loudly, "Go away."

He turned to the officer, "It's my girl." 

I shook my head, Mikey and the officer exchanged a few more words and the officer left. Mikey leaned down, leveling with me.

"Can we talk now?"

I gave up, it was all I could do, "Fine."

He opened the door, took my hand and helped me out. My legs were a little wobbly and numb from my position, so Mikey held me up. He didn't say a word, all he did was carry me to the water, and sat me on the sand.

"Talk," I muttered to him.

He sighed, "What's your favorite smell?"

I turned to him, eying him, "What? I thought you wanted to talk!?"

He shrugged, "I don't wanna rush," he turned to me, serious face on, "what's your favorite smell?"

I gave up, again, "October."

"October?" he looked at me sideways.

"The smell of fall, October, it makes me excited for candy and scary movies."

He chuckled, "Favorite ice cream?"

I sighed, "Come on, Mikey, I don't wanna do this."

"Answer the question," he ordered.

"God...uh cookie dough." I muttered quickly.

"Gross," he shook his head, making me smile, "What's your favorite sound?"

I tweaked my mouth, thinking about these ridiculous questions, "The 3 am train that comes behind my house...it's a few miles behind my yard."

"Favorite TV show?"

I groaned, thinking about it, "Anything on Fuse."

He turned to me, "Are you ready?" 

"No."

He nodded, "Favorite season?"

"Fall."

"Favorite book?"

"It's a tie between Invisible Monsters and The Perks of Being a Wallflower." I smiled to myself.

"Charlie was a smart kid," he noted quietly.

"Yeah, I know." We both grew silent. I knew Mikey was thinking of things to ask, so I decided to get it over with, "I'm ready."

He looked down at me, "Sure?" I nodded, "Last night everyone went and looked for you...we didn't know where you went; that girl Maggie was frantic; Cameron and a few people called your phone."

My face grew from embarrassment, "Sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't apologize."

I swallowed hard, feeling my throat tighten, "Why didn't he just tell me? Maybe I would have understood...maybe I wouldn't be this mad."

Mikey took my hand, squeezing softly, "He thought he had it under control."

I shook my head, the tears building, "They deserve each other," I mumbled, "why couldn't he just tell me?"

He shrugged, "He was being Frank...trying to keep everything straight and undisturbed."
I bit my lip, dying to say all I wanted to Mikey. The God honest truth, "I won't do it anymore, Mikey."

He looked confused, "What?"

"This back and fourth game with Frank...I can't...I won't!" I breathed out heavily, "I am done with this bullshit relationship."

Mikey nodded, "We know."

I shook my head, "No...I'm really done...I don't want...I can't..." I struggled to find the right words, "We can't be friends anymore."

He looked at me, hurt and confusion filled his eyes, "Over this?"

I nodded, "I can't do it; it fucking hurts!" I began to cry, "Ever since he came into my life, everything has gone to hell."

"Those things happen--"

I cut him off, "I lost my best friend, I became a fucking outcast, and now I'm slowly losing my sanity." my voice cracked.

"Things will pick up--"

I stopped him, "Mikey, stop, please."

He shut his mouth, looking away from me. I swallowed the growing lump, wiping my eyes. I sniffed and sat up, "You mean a lot to me, Mikey...a whole lot."

He turned to me, "We care about you."

"I know."

"Then, why are you saying we can't be friends?"

I shook my head, "Mikey you don't understand," I started to sob again, "I'm going crazy, I can't deal with having you around."

Mikey kept his eyes at the ground, not saying a word. I swallowed hard, again, thinking of what to say. I didn't know how to explain it to him...but I just couldn't get the right words together.

"Do you know why I gave you those backstage passes last year?" he cut my thoughts, quietly.

"No," I answered, thinking back on that night.

He eyes flickered to mine, "I saw you, behind the barricade, bobbing your head along and taking pictures, and I thought you were the hottest girl I had seen in a while," he smiled to himself, "I was really going for you, but my ego got the best of me; I knew you weren't the type to just sleep with a guy, hell, you didn't even know our music!" he chuckled, as I listened, "When Marilyn came in, I was like 'Fuck It', and I slept with her. Then Frank told me he liked you...I stood back and let him talk to you, I never thought you'd ever go for a guy like me, especially after I slept with your friend."

I didn't respond, let stared at his subtle features, and his soft smile. I sniffed again, knowing what I had to do would hurt him. 

"How did you know I was here?" I asked, wiping the remaining tears from my lids.

"I asked you were would I find you if you ran away...longest 3 hours of my life."

I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around his thin frame, "Thank you, Mikey," I said, softly, "thanks for being there for me."

He pressed his lips to my cheek, "I'll always be here for you...remember?"