REJECTS\\M.C.

-10-

-hannah-

It's just as chilly the next morning to Mikey's house but the fresh air in my lungs feels good, calming my giddy nerves. I can't help but feel excited to spend time with him again, but the desire does scare me. A breath releases from my clear lungs as I remind myself to stay alert. I have a plan to stick to and I can't let someone untrustworthy ruin my chances of freedom. But when Mikey saunters into the living room with sleepy eyes after his Mum lets me in, I feel all my walls crumble; leaving behind only a small barricade I will probably never shake.

"G'day," he yawns and goes into the kitchen, coming back with toast. "Hungry?"

"Yes, actually," she smiles, taking the extra he offers.

"I'll make some eggs," Karen offers, getting up and going into the kitchen.

"No, that's okay," I wave my hand, nervous at becoming a burden.

"You need some good protein to study, plus Mike has his show tonight. Let's start the day off right, eh?"

"Thanks, Mum," Mikey smiles and then I follow him to his room.

I set my pack on the desk and then begin wondering around his room, taking in all his knickknacks and posters. "You really like Green Day," I observe and run my fingers down one of the four posters.

"You like them, too," he states and I turn to him, knowing I've never told him that.

He leans back on the wall with his hands in his pockets watching me with a look that makes my tummy swirl and I feel my mouth go dry before I ask, "How do you know that?"

He pushes off the wall and runs his hand through his hair, spiking it, before he lifts my backpack up and points to my small Green Day pin, "I've been walking behind you for three years and this has been on your backpack since then."

I swallow as I suddenly feel overwhelmed; the fact that he has made such a small observation about me and has held onto it all these years immeasurable to me. Why would he care? Who am I for him to care? He shouldn't care about me. He can't. I am damaged goods.

I look up at him as I remind myself I am undesirable, but I find compassion and even admiration in his hazel eyes. I quickly look away, feeling my eyes sting and continue looking around. On the opposite wall he has a small entertainment center with a tv and xbox where two toy guitars rest upright. I observe one, knowing its some kind of gaming device and he comes over to me.

"Do you play guitar hero?"

"No," I look up at him, his spray cologne and natural musk filling my nose; a delightful scent.

"Maybe we can play a song or two before we get to math?"

His eyes light up and the most adorable smile takes over his whole face, the sight warming me and I bite my lip with a nod, "Okay."

"Actually? You really will?"

"Sure," I shrug.

"I thought I'd have to convince you more," he giggles and turns on the xbox.

"I need to have more fun sometimes," I admit as he steps up to me with a guitar.

"I can help with that," he smirks and I feel my breath catch, a playfulness in his eyes that makes my tummy flip.

I blink as I stare into his hazel eyes, nervous at this feel. My body feels hot in my jumper as my palms become sweaty. I swallow as my mouth goes dry and strange tingles take over my lower half. Is this what it feels like to desire someone?

I advert my eyes and look at his hand holding the guitar out to me, remembering the tender touch on my hand the other night. My hand reaches out to take it, purposely skimming his as I long to feel its warmth again. I graze his hand, feeling overloaded with the sudden yearning to have his warm hands on my skin, knowing they'd be gentle and kind.