So the Season's Changed Your Face

Mike wasn’t lying when he said he had been busy. Since we started “officially” dating (it’s still really weird saying that), he finished lifeguard training and now lifeguards at the city pool five days a week. And when he gets home from that, he goes directly to Tim’s or to AJ’s or to Mark’s for band practice. They do shows when they can get them, which means he has to be available at the drop of a hat most evenings.

Needless to say, our time together was either limited or among friends. I’ve grown very fond of the guys and don’t mind spending time with them – really – but sometimes I really just want to put on a movie and enjoy a bowl of popcorn with Mike, free from his band mates, just like the good, old days.

The summer was going by much faster than I anticipated. Before I knew it, it was the end of July and we were driving to Tinley Park to go to Warped Tour. And while it was fun watching Hot Water Music and Jimmy Eat World and Thursday (I could have sworn I saw Bill Beckett crowd surfing!), I realized my summer was quickly dwindling and that in one short month, I would be starting my senior year of high school.

My mom practically burst into tears when I told her I needed to start checking out colleges in early August. She has been going through a crisis ever since and has been trying to spend as much time with me as humanly possible. I think she finally realized that she was a completely absent mother for the majority of my junior year and was trying to make up for it.

I don’t mind too much – she’s been buying me a lot of clothing.

On the other hand, she has developed this nasty habit of guilt tripping me every time I leave the house, so I’ve been sneaking out a lot (though I shouldn’t have to – I am seventeen years old). I live for those evenings when Mike vaults the back gate and taps on my window, asking me if I want to go to band practice with him.

Occasionally, the stars and planets align and not only is band practice at Mike’s, it gets out early, and the guys don’t insist on staying, and Mike doesn’t have lifeguard duties in the morning, and it’s Friday – and that means it’s Bunco Night.

Mike practically slammed the door behind AJ and turned around to face me, his eyes wide. “They’re finally fucking gone.”

I chuckled. “So what now?”

“Well,” Mike said, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Mom and dad won’t be back for hours and Lucas is spending the night at a friend’s.”

“Sounds like we should…” I trailed off, snaking my hands up his chest and linking them behind his neck.

“…get ice cream,” Mike finished, smirking.

“I was thinking the exact same thing!” I exclaimed. “Who’s driving?”

He dropped his hands from my waist and reached into my front pocket, pulling out my keys. “You are. I lost my keys. Why do you think practice was here?”

“God dammit, Mike. What am I going to do with your forgetful ass?”


Mike and I were leaning on the hood of my car, silently eating our ice cream (he got strawberry, I got French vanilla) and listening to the rush of late night traffic. I was trying to prevent ice cream from getting on my shirt when Mike broke the silence.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said, and then he licked his ice cream quite thoughtfully.

“Yeah?” I prompted apprehensively, somewhat concerned that he was going to drop a bomb on me, say he thinks we should go back to being friends or something.

“So you know how my mom’s the head of the Barrington school board?”

“Uh, yeah,” Where is this going?

“Well, the head of the Schaumburg school board stepped down from his post back in June, and, uh, my mom took his place,” he said, looking intently at his ice cream cone.

“And while I am very happy for your mom, I’m not sure why this is particularly important,” I said truthfully. “Maybe I’m just missing the point.”

“Well, no, I haven’t made my point yet. Not really,” he said, pausing and taking a deep breath. “So, because she’s the head of the Schaumburg school board now, which, you know, makes total sense because we live in Schaumburg, it would look bad if Lucas and I didn’t go to Schaumburg.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” Mike said, and we slipped into silence. “It’s kind of bullshit that I have transfer to a new school for my last year of high school.” He blurted suddenly. “I mean, at least Lucas is going into his sophomore year. But I have to start over at a new school for my senior year. That’s not fair.”

“I hear their swim team is really good, though,” I offered, smiling sympathetically. “And it’s a pretty good school. My parents considered sending me there. The only reason I’m at Barrington is because it’s closer.”

He sighed. “I guess. It’s just…I’m going to have to make new friends.” Mike pouted, and I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not.

I stood up and smoothed out my jeans. “Come on,” I said, pulling him up and giving him a hug. “Let’s go home; it’s getting cold.”

And home we went. We watched Fight Club with the lights off and my head in Mike’s lap. He was balancing the popcorn bowl between my head and my shoulder, which was proving difficult for him because I kept moving, threatening to knock over the popcorn bowl.

“Stop moving, you’re going to spill the popcorn!” Mike said, laughing.

“Then stop using me as a damn table!” I retorted. “Just put it somewhere else!”

“Like where? You’re taking up the whole damn couch!” he pointed out, still laughing. “And I can’t very well put it in my lap!”

“Well, then put it on the ground,” I said in mock exasperation.

“Then I won’t be able to reach it,” he objected. “You are making my life so complicated right now.”

“Oh, so you don’t want my head in your lap?” I asked, smirking.

Mike pursed his lips. “That’s a trick question and I’m not answering it.”

I laughed and awkwardly reached my arm up. “Give me the bowl, Mike.”

He handed me the metal bowl and I placed it on the ottoman. “There. Problem solved.”

I returned my head to his lap, fanning out my hair across his legs and the couch. I tried to get as comfortable as possible, but let’s get real, putting your head in someone’s lap is not very comfortable.

“Mike, you’re not soft enough,” I complained, turning over to look up at him.

“I am so sorry, Vivi,” he said sarcastically. Without further comment, he handed me a throw pillow. I placed it between my head and his thighs and we finished the movie without any more interruptions.

The credits were rolling when I realized I had drifted off momentarily. Mike was running his fingers through my hair. I smiled and made a tiny noise of pleasure. Who doesn’t like having someone run their fingers through their hair?

“You were twitching,” he said, sounding very amused and still playing with my hair.

“I’ve been told I do that,” I commented. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Be my guest,”

Five minutes later, I was still lying on Mike’s couch, my head still in his lap and his fingers still in my hair. I found it very difficult to pull myself out of such a peaceful situation. I hadn’t noticed how quiet it had gotten until the DVD menu came back on.

I groaned. “It was so quiet.” I said into the pillow.

Mike turned off the TV and it got very dark. I sighed. “Okay, I’m getting up.”

Mike was in the kitchen, dumping the excess popcorn into the trashcan and washing the bowl when I came back from the bathroom. I put my arms around his waist and took in his scent. It was an oddly comforting mix of cigarettes and popcorn and his cologne and the slightest hint of B. O. but because it was Mike, I didn’t find this at all offensive.

He dried his hands and turned around. He kissed me and he knows very well what that does to me. It makes my head go all fuzzy and I forget what I was going to say to him. I pulled away from him.

“Mike, Mike, Mike,”

“Vivi, Vivi, Vivi,” he mocked, and he kissed me again.

“What time do you think your parents will get home?”

“Probably around twelve. But it depends-” The phone rang and he furrowed his brow. “Hold that thought.”

I moved aside so he could get the phone. “Hello? Oh, hi, mom…Yeah, the guys went home. It’s just me and Vivi…We watched Fight Club… So, when are you going to be home?...You don’t know?...Okay, that’s fine. I’ll see you then…Yeah, bye mom.”

Mike rolled his eyes and put the phone back in its cradle. “They’re going out with friends.” He said, dryly.

“Oh,” I said, and I couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Why’d you wanna know when they’re gonna come home?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you know, because I wanted to gauge how much longer we were going to be alone,” I answered. “Seeing as we’ll probably never be alone ever again.”

“Did you want to do anything? Did you have anything in mind?” he asked, slowly approaching me, looking at me in a way that made me want to rip his clothes off.

I backed into the counter next to the refrigerator. He had me cornered, as I’m sure he wanted me to be. “No, I didn’t have anything in mind.” I teased.

“Well, if you don’t then maybe we can just pop in another movie and then I can take you home,” he said, placing his hands on either side of me on the counter. “You know, if you don’t have anything in mind.”

My heart was racing and I’m sure he knew it. He began to kiss my jaw line, my neck, my chest – anywhere but my lips – and it was driving me insane. I wrapped my legs around his torso and I felt him grin against my collarbone. “So you do have something in mind?” he asked, smirking.

I hated giving him the satisfaction of being right because he was always an asshole about it, so I sat there, tight-lipped, with my legs still wrapped around his torso. He continued to kiss me everywhere but my lips, occasionally sucking on the few sweet spots he had found in the past few months.

He even managed to get his hand between us and was rubbing my crotch through my jeans. It was just enough to drive me right over the edge, but the second he realized that, he stopped and smiled at me.

“Fuck you, Mike,” I breathed. “Fuck. You.”

“Oh, fuck me?” he asked, and he put his hand just over my crotch again. Agonizingly slow, he continued his rubbing.

“Yes, fuck you,” I said with bated breath and I hopped of the counter and grabbed a hold of his wrist. I pulled him into his bedroom and shut the door behind us.