Love Me, Mikayla

INTERLUDE III

MIKAYLA

. . .

"Here?"

"Shut up for now, Mickey," as that said, he smashes his lips against mine, taking in a deep kiss.

I hold his shoulders as he pins me against the locker. His hand crawls up my hip, holding my waist and caressing ever so softly.

I tilt my head, letting him have better access. I part my lips, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth when a loud banging of the door interrupts us.

Ibzan jerks back, looking at the one who interrupted us. I follow his gaze and really am not surprised to see Mr Blondie standing beside his locker, holding the gloves.

Jerk.

He stares dead into the eyes of Ibzan, muttering, "Are you not coming?"

He is calling Ibzan to join the practice as both are members of the college sports team. Mr Blondie is one the most admired players, more famous for his dumb looks and body which every girl calls hot.

Ibzan is another famous player but not as admired as Blondie but who cares? For me, my Ibzan is better — even the best. This Blondie cannot even compete with him.

"No," Ibzan replies, giving him a quiet smile, "Actually I have classes to attend. I can't risk it for the sake of practice, you know that, Barak."

Blondie hums, still staring at Ibzan like he wants to chew him raw. What's his problem now?

"As you wish." He turns to leave, giving me a short look. I stand firm, giving him a hard glare like I do every time but deep inside, he made me shudder.

His razor-sharp gaze can make anyone shudder, including me, when he looks at anyone with that silent look.

"Barak, you can talk on my behalf. Please, do it. You have the coach's favor," Ibzan requests, knowing very well that Barak will do it as he has done before many times.

He only nods his head before walking away.

"Thank God!" He sighs. "Let's go now," he says, holding my hand.

I smile at him, walking out. We reach the broad way, talking with each other. He tells me about his new skills and the way he is achieving good marks. I am so happy for him. He deserves it, after all, he is a hardworking guy. He deserves everything.

I listen to him silently. I can't help but smile. His smile is the prettiest when he is happy about something, particularly his success, and I want it to stay with him forever.

But another of our sweet moments is interrupted when the basketball comes flying over the fence and hits right at Ibzan's head.

He groans, bending over. The ball falls behind him at a distance. He cups his mouth and when he removes his hand, I see blood.

"Oh no!" I crouch in front of him, immediately grabbing my knapsack and bringing out the water bottle.

"Zan, don't focus down!" I utter and he listens to me. I help him clean his mouth which is filled with blood. His tongue was cut because those dumb players hit him when he was talking.

Mannerless jerks!

After he has cleansed his mouth and gulped down the water, he sighs. Looking at my face, he smiles, "I'm fine, Mickey."

It hurts him when he speaks, and I know it because his face scrunches at the discomfort.

"Don't say anything." I shake my head, taking the bottle. I put it inside my knapsack and I notice a guy jogging over to us to get the ball.