Maybe I Wasn't Enough

"Izzy? Can you come over? Now?" Vic asked through the phone.

I was currently playing lazar tag with Sam, and as soon as I heard the despair in his voice, I began tearing off my gear.

"Of coarse. Vic, what's wrong?" I asked, oblivious to the questions Sam was throwing at me while he, too, was taking his gear off, and returning it to the front desk.

"It's Mike. Just, get here fast, please?" He said before hanging up, leaving every detail unsaid.

I sighed loudly, annoyed at the fact that I was needed by my ex.

I explained everything on the way to Sam. He wasn't too happy. He tends to hold grudges against people who hurt others.

"Bella, he fucking cheated on you! And yet you're still right there when he skins his knee! This is why you get fucked over!" He screamed, throwing a slight tantrum, unable to keep his frustration in his body.

I sighed loudly again. "Thanks for that, Sam. You're such a fucking jerk." I commented.

"Well, if I'm such a jerk, then let me out of the damn car!" He screamed at me, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Fine!" I said, hitting on the brakes.

He cursed at me under his breath, and got out of the car. He began walking to the house, but rather slowly.

I leaped out of the car, after jerking my keys out of the ignition. I didn't care to lock it. I ran as fast as I could up the porch steps, and flung the door open.

"Izzy?" Vic called from upstairs.

I ran to his voice, skipping every other step.

"What's wrong?" I asked, coming to Vic standing outside of Mike's closed door. His nervousness was not oblivious.

"He's flipping out. I don't know what for - and he's locked the door. I can't get I-" I cut him off.

"MICHAEL CHRISTOPHER FUETES OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!" I screamed, pounding my fists against as hard as I could upon the wood.

He ignored me, and something shattered. A few shards of glass skidded from under the door.

I groaned, and took a bobby pin from my hair.

"What are you doing?" Vic asked, the worry still plastered on his face.

"Picking the lock. What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked, sarcastically.

"Well, hurry." He said.

I heard the lock click, and threw it open.

Tears where spilling down Mike's face, and he was throwing picture frames at the wall. I could see pieces of ripped up, unframed pictures on the floor, along with his phone (which was shattered).

"Mike! Stop! What's you're problem?" I screamed, over the still shattering frames.

He stopped throwing everything he could touch, and looked at me from the other side of his bed.

"You're my problem!" He screamed, going back to throwing things as soon as he said this.

"Me?" My heart dropped. "Mikey, what did I do?" My voice dropped down to barely a whisper, and the shattering stopped. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Izzy, I love you, okay? I made a mistake! I was wasted! Do you think I would really betray you? My mom didn't need help! I went to the bar! I couldn't stand being around Sam! Have you seen the way he looks at you?" He rubbed his face, angrily.

"Mikey, he's my best friend.... He would never do anything like that." I stated.

The thought of what had just gapped flooded to my brain. I just had my first ever fight with my best fried, Samuel Lee Smith.

"Really? Come on, Izzy!" He said, walking closer to me.

My legs trembled. "He's gay for fucks sake, Michael!" I yelled.

"Izzy, I love you." He grabbed my face, and kissed me roughly.

I wanted to pull away. I wanted to, so bad. I wanted to be kissing Tony, not Mike. But I couldn't. I couldn't pull away. I missed this too much. Even if he made mistakes, I loved him. I was in love with Michael Christopher Fuentes.

He pulled away, interrupting my thoughts. We were both gasping for breath.

"Mikey..." I whispered.

He shushed me. "Isobella Santos; please forgive me?" He pleaded.

I wanted to shake my head, and run away. I needed to.

I kissed him again. "Of coarse I forgive you." I mumbled against his lips.

I'm stuck between reality, and a dream. But I was lying to my reality. I loved them both so much….