Mickey Who?

Chapter One: Mickey Who?

Song for this chapter: “Really Don't Care" by Demi Lovato

To anyone that didn’t go to my high school, Mickey Mouse was just a silly cartoon character. But if you belonged to Duncan High, everyone knew that that silly cartoon character could change someone’s life with drastic measures.

As I entered my US History classroom, I noticed that my classmates were antsy, even more so than usual. Considering that this was only first period, I found it very strange. This was the time of day where most people tried to sleep through the agonizing fifty-five minutes. I located my best friend, Heather. She was currently talking to several guys and girls, forming a large cluster of people in the center of the room.

Heather, noticing me stare at her oddly, jerked her head towards her and the group, a gesture telling me to join them. I sighed, setting my bulky book down and pencil pouch onto my assigned seat, which happened to be in the middle row, first desk.

My seat location meant no sleeping for me.

“Why’re you guys so loud?” I queried as soon I was within earshot of Heather.

Her light, hazel eyes widened in shock. “You mean you didn’t hear? I know you’re not into this kinda thing, but seriously?” she answered my question with a couple of her own.

“Obviously not,” I mumbled, puzzled by her reaction.

The girl to the right of me, Lena, interrupted our conversation to shove in a question of her own. Even from middle school, I remembered Lena as a nosy and annoyingly loud girl. “Did you read Mickey’s blog last night?”

Realizing that this ruckus was about Mickey, any trace of curiosity drained from my facial expression. Mickey was our school’s anonymous love advisor. The thought of someone being anonymous just to give out advice didn’t strike me as fascinating. In fact, I found the idea to be overrated and stupid.

Why would a person in their sane mind want advice from an anonymous person? Glancing around the room, I realized that just about everyone in this school mustn’t be “sane”.

“Nope,” I replied simply, popping the p as I said it.

“Seriously?” Lena shot me an appalled look that suddenly made a sour feeling crawl into my stomach. “What kind of person doesn’t read Mickey’s blog?”

I bit back a tempting remark. It was too early for fighting. Way too early. Instead, I managed to muster up a somewhat polite smile and said, “Why don’t you just tell me what it is then, Lena?”

Heather sent me a warning look, probably noticing the strain in my voice, but I rolled my eyes in response.

“Mickey’s quitting,” Lena finally answered, summing up the big fuss in two words.

“Really?” I couldn’t bury the hopeful sound in my voice. “Then Mickey’s blog is done for good, right?”

Everyone in the group looked at me. Their facial expressions looked like I had just stomped on their foot or something.

“No. Mickey’s just going to find a replacement, and that person is going to be hand chosen by Mickey themselves.” Heather cut in, instantly killing my wishful thinking.

“And is that why everyone’s so gossipy today? Because they want to be the new ‘Mickey’?” I guessed, running a hand through my long, dark brunette hair.

“Yup, pretty much.”

“Well…that’s…interesting.” A frown found its way to my face. I wanted to say something else…something more tempting… but managed to refrain myself.

Most of my classmates ignored my comment, and decided to guess who was going to be the next Mickey. I sure as heck knew that I was out of the candidacy. Seeing that I lost just about everyone’s attention, I wandered back to my seat, plopping down onto it boorishly. Taking a gander around the classroom, I noticed just how many people were enthralled by this idea of Mickey.

I sighed grumpily to myself. Just what was so great about becoming the next Mickey? I didn’t get it. And honestly…I didn’t want to.

Just as I was about to rest my head on the desk, so I could sneak in a quick nap before class started, my vision was clouded with long strands of strawberry blonde hair.

“Hey,” I greeted Heather, as she leaned against my desk.

She smiled, showing off her pearly, white teeth. “A lil’ cranky this morning, Ana?”

“No,” I defended myself. Puffing my cheeks slightly, I pulled my right arm up, so I could rest my head on it. “Lena started it. Besides, you know how I feel about all that Mickey crap. It’s so stupid.”

I earned an eye roll from my best friend. “You’re such a weirdo. You know that?” She puffed her cheeks out too, probably an attempt to tease me. “Seriously, you’re like the only person I know who hates Mickey with a burning passion.”

“I don’t hate Mickey.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

“I swear, I don’t. I just…don’t like Mickey.” I grimaced, realizing that they were practically the same thing.

A sly grin slipped onto Heather’s round face. “I bet if you actually went to Mickey for help, you and Matt would so be a couple by now.” She winked, and my face responded by turning bright red.

“S-shut up!” I harshly whispered to her, before angling my head so I could take a peek three seats behind me, where a gorgeous brunette sat.

Matthew Bayne sat in his seat casually, stretching his long legs down the middle of the aisle, while leaning back into his chair. He must have joined the Mickey Fan Group in the middle of the room because the cluster of students seemed to scoot over towards him. He listened patiently to the loud crowd, while occasionally pitching in his own share of words or laughing.

The sound of his laugh sent warm, fuzzy feelings to my stomach. And his small grins made me want to grab a hold of him and just kiss him on the spot.

Heather lightly smacked my arm, causing me to rebound out of my daydream. I glared at her, trying to compose my flustered cheeks. She knew I had the biggest crush on Matt since the beginning of freshman year. Now, being a junior, I still hadn’t even said more than five words to him.

To him, I practically didn’t exist.

Heather opened her mouth, and I was waiting to hear another one of her sassy remarks, but her voice was overshadowed by the dull, school bell. My teacher, Mr. Henry, who had been scribbling some notes on the white board, put his Expo marker down and waited patiently for the morning announcements to begin.

I stuck my tongue out at Heather as she made her way to her seat. She returned my childish behavior by making a face.

The rest of the class quieted down, ending all conversations of Mickey until class ended. I sighed internally, knowing that the Mickey discussions weren’t over.

Nope. They only just begun.

The rest of the day continued just like I anticipated. Dozens of times, I overheard people talking about Mickey. Just from the sound of the name, I resisted the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. Why was it always Mickey this or Mickey that? I was so sick of hearing the name Mickey! (Not that I had anything against the cute, Disney character.)

“Do you need a ride home?” I asked Heather as we stepped out of our last class of the day, English.

“Yep, please. My car’s still in the shop,” she replied, frowning.

“Still? It’s been almost like two weeks.”

“I know right!” She rolled her light, blue eyes melodramatically. “The mechanic is so not getting a tip.”

I laughed lightly and continued towards our lockers. “Oh, by the way, I gotta get a car wash before I drop you off. My mom’s been bugging me about how filthy it is.”

Heather’s locker was only four down from mine, so she waited patiently as I started stuffing my backpack with all the crap I needed for tonight.

“No problemo,” she replied, leaning casually against my open locker door. “And hey, I think you need a new backpack.”

She reached for one of the straps. And I examined it as she toyed with it in her hands, I saw that the fabric was torn, showing some of the white styrofoam that supported the band.

I shrugged indifferently. “Nah, there’s like three months of school left anyway. It’ll hold out.”

“Ahh, summer vacation! Come sooner!” Heather wished aloud, closing her eyes like she was wishing upon a shooting star. I nodded, agreeing with her completely.

“Warm weather, long days, short nights, and the beach. What more could we ask for?” I grinned, picturing the perfect summer days and events.

“Uh, hot, smokin’ guys. Duh,” Heather said, grinning.

“Of course. How could I forget?” I smirked lazily at my best friend.

Satisfied with my now pudgy backpack, I shut the door and locked it, and then headed over to Heather’s. Whenever she opened her locker, I always inspected her neatly decorated storeroom. While my locker was pretty plain, except for the one or two pictures of us, Heather’s was decorated with dozens of different pictures and drawings all given to her by various friends. Sometimes I envied Heather’s outgoing, spunky personality. It was like she just naturally attracted people.

But then I figured, as long as I had her as my bestie. I was fine.

“Alrighty, I’m set,” she told me, closing her dull, blue locker. “Let’s go.”

I nodded, and we both headed for the nearest exit. Heather pushed one of the thick, metal double doors open. As the bright light flooded into the building, my vision was cut off momentarily by the blinding radiance.

Even though I couldn’t see, I pressed forward, which was my mistake. I stumbled into something…or in this case, someone. “Oh crap, sor—“ I stopped midway through my apology, when I noticed who I ran into.

My cheeks flooded a deep, rosy red color, and I turned my widened, brown eyes down to my worn, converse shoes. I desperately wanted to apologize to him, but I couldn’t voice the words out of my constricted throat.

“It’s my fault,” Matt said. From the sound of his deep voice, I could feel my knees weaken and my stomach had butterflies fluttering frantically. “Sorry bout that, Ana.”

He said my name. Even better, he knows my name!

Even though I was just about dying on the inside, outside, I could barely get my head to move up and down. Heather bumped her hips against mine, and I could already picture her sending me a disappointed frown. “Sorry Matt. Looks like Ana’s mouth is glued shut at the moment.”

Another wave of embarrassment flooded my cheeks, and I lifted my head up just high enough so I could glare at Heather, to which she returned with a cheeky grin. Then, mustering up my fragile courage, I glanced back at Matt, keeping my eyes away from his enigmatic, dark green orbs. Instead, my eyes skimmed his angular jaw. I wanted to say something cute or funny, but what I really wanted most was just to say anything!

“I,” I started, bringing my gaze to meet his, but I realized that was the worst choice I had ever done. His eyes glued me to the spot, and I felt my mouth hang open, limply. His dark eyes pierced mine, and I noticed the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, giving me the impression of him being rather amused. “I—uh—Sorry!”

Without waiting for him to react, I forced my body to move. I pushed passed him, and practically sprinted to my car. Well…at least I said something. I thought wryly to myself, bringing my hand up to feel my burning face.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Heather hollered, catching up to me. She looked at me like I was a loony. And at that moment, I didn’t disagree with her.

“What do you mean?” I took my hand down, and attempted to smirk. “I thought I handled that quite well.” Pfft. As if.

She snorted, flipping her long, blonde hair over her right shoulder. “Oh yeah, definitely. If you were trying to look like an idiot, I’d give you an A plus.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” she teased, a daring grin fleeted across her mouth.

I matched her smirk. “Fine, then you can walk your butt home.” Her house was only a fifteen minute drive, but walking, especially at Heather’s snail-like pace, it’d take her the entire night.

She gasped, her eyes widening and her taunting smile dropped instantly. “You wouldn’t.”

The corners of my thin lips widened further. “Oh, I so would.”

“Touche’.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “But seriously, Ana, you had the perfect chance to talk to him, and what do you do?” Without waiting for an answer she continued by saying, “You clam up. And then you attempted to knock him over.”

Locating my piece of junk car, I made my way over to it. It was an old, supposedly dark red, Toyota Celica, but the paint started chipping long before I even had it in my possession. The car was humble looking to say the least. However, being a teenage student, this car meant the world to me.

On the rear bumper of my car, I noticed that one of my stickers was coming off. The sticker had the words Proud Student of Duncan High scrawled on it in bold cursive letters. It was the sticker I had gotten as a freshman, and I remember sticking it onto my car when I first got it. The corners of the sticker started curling in, and I knew it was going to fall off soon.

“Well?” Heather invaded my distracted moment, and I pulled my attention back to her.

“It’s not my fault! He’s just so damn cute.” I muttered, fishing for my keys in my pocket.

“So what?! I swear Ana. You’re never going to get a freaking boyfriend unless you talk to the guys you like,” she lectured me, and I heaved a heavy sigh.

Puffing my cheeks, I mumbled. “I know.” I shot a look at my best friend before unlocking my side of the car. “But not all of us have your charming attitude.”

“Do I sense sarcasm?” Heather raised a brow at me, a noticeable frown covering her mouth.

Ignoring her statement, I opened my door and scooted into my seat. For a moment, my hearing was drowned by the sound of dry, old leather screeching underneath my weight. And then it was silent…well it was until Heather rapped lightly on the passenger window.

“Hell-oo! I’m still out here, in this blazing sun. Probably getting an epic sunburn as I speak,” she announced so loudly, I was surprised the cars around us’ alarms didn’t go off.

After resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her…again, I leaned over and pulled the small, latch thingy up, reluctantly letting her in. As she entered the car, I said, “Good. You kinda need a tan anyway. You pretty much glow in the dark.”

“Ha ha, that was so funny, I forgot to laugh,” she remarked sarcastically.

Heather and I tossed our backpacks into the back seat.

“You did laugh.” I pointed out, turning on the ignition.

Heather chose to disregard my snide comment and rolled down her window instead. “Hey, where do you get your car washed at?”

“Err…” I paused to think. The sign that I normally saw on top of the car wash building popped into mind, but for some reason I couldn’t think of the name. “I think it’s called Bob’s Car Wash? Or was it Charlie’s? Crap…well it’s the one next to the Taco Bell on Delilah Road. Do you know that one?”

“Yeah.” She glanced at me. “And it’s Charles’ Car Wash.”

“Oh, I knew that,” I mumbled nearly inaudible, as I pulled out of my parking space. “What about it?”

“I heard there’s this really hot guy that works there. And he dries off the cars! You know what that means right?”

“…Our car isn’t going to be wet?”

Heather pressed her pink lips into a thin line, clearly disappointed by my response. “No you dumb dumb. It means we’re most likely going to see him topless!”

“Ohhh,” I responded, turning right at the exit of our school. “Does he go to school here?”

“I don’t think so.” She pursed her lips. “I’m pretty sure he graduated last year.”

“And you know so much about him why?” I inquired, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. I could tell by her spirited expression and body language she was overly excited about a simple car wash.

“My friend, Dani, you know the one in our English class?”

“Nope.”

“Geez, you never pay attention to anyone,” she accused. “Anyway, her older brother is friends with him.”

“Mhm, that’s not stalkerish at all, Heather.”

“What?” she said, giving me a dull expression. “Like you don’t stalk Matt.”

“I do no such thing,” I replied coolly. “I just happen to be where he is.”

“You keep tellin’ yourself that, honey,” Heather said, poorly imitating a southern accent.

“I will.” I sniffed crudely. I turned on my right blinker, seeing that our destination was within my vision.

When I turned into the lot, I was surprised to see that the small, car wash place was actually pretty crowded. Since today was Thursday, I didn’t expect this place to be so packed. At least five or six cars lined up in a single, straight line, and I joined in the back.

One of the workers—an older man who appeared to be in his mid to late forties—noticed me as I entered the lot. He wore a faded grey janitor-like outfit, and a matching cap rested atop his nearly bald head. He approached my vehicle with a pen and notepad in hand, just as I rolled my creaky window down.

“Welcome to Charles’ Car Wash,” he greeted in a tired, gruff voice. From this distance, I could see sweat glistening down his face. “What would you like today?”

“Umm, I’ll just take the standard wash,” I answered, stretching the corners of my mouth into a small, polite smile.

He nodded once, as he scribbled something down onto the small pad of paper. A moment later, he ripped the tiny slip and handed it to me. “The wait’ll be about thirty to forty minutes, miss.”

“Okay, thank you,” I said, shifting my car’s gear to park, before leaving my vehicle. Heather followed in suit.

I watched for a few seconds, feeling the radiant sun enveloping my pale body in its almost uncomfortable warmth, before another worker occupied my spot in the driver’s seat. And then I turned towards the building, where I knew I had to pay.

“Thirty or forty minutes,” Heather suddenly interjected, causing me to shift my attention towards her.

“That’s what he said.”

“Isn’t that kinda a long wait just for a standard car wash?”

“I guess, but it’s not like there’s another place nearby we can go to.”

“True.” She frowned, “but now I’m gonna be bored.”

“Stop whining. You’ve got Mr. Hottie to drool. And we can watch as they wash the cars,” I told her, a grin returning to my face. “I loved watching them wash the cars, when I was little.” Well actually, what I loved was the machines that squirted the rainbow colored soap onto the cars.

“Me too! Hey, I gotta go potty. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she stated just as we entered the small, air-conditioned building. “And don’t you dare look for my man while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I stuck my tongue out at her and her childish behavior. “I’ll wait for you by the window viewing area.”

“Will do,” she said, making a right turn towards the bathrooms, while I continued towards my destination.

The hallway was scattered with people of all ages. A few younger kids ran up and down the dark blue halls, while the older ones watched the cars enter the washing area. The parents and others sat quietly, using their watchful eyes as their children played.

I was about to sit on one of the empty seats, when someone tapped against my shoulder. Turning around, I half expected to see Heather, but instead a woman with long, dark blonde curls entered my vision.

“Err, hi?” I greeted questionably. I didn’t know this person, and I didn’t know why she tapped my shoulder.

“Hi, I think you dropped this,” she told me, handing me something.

“Thanks,” I automatically said, not even looking down at what she gave me. Saying thank you was just an instinctive response.

She smiled, politely. “You’re welcome,” she said, before walking away.

Only then did I realize that she gave me something. Looking down into my hands, I saw that it was a pale white, square shaped envelope.

“Oh, wait, this isn’t…” I trailed off, noticing that she was no longer there.

I frowned at the envelope. This isn’t mine. What am I supposed to do with it?

I turned the envelope over, on its back, debating whether I should open it or not. And then something caught my eye. I gasped quietly and could feel my heart just about stop.

On the back of the envelope was a small, shiny black sticker. It sealed the thin envelope closed, but the color of the sticker wasn’t what made my heart stop. It was the figure of the sticker.

It was the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head.