Just My Imagination

If he thought it would make a difference, Michael would have shown up at practice in a heartbeat. But every time he did, Allison was gone before he could even string two words together. It had been too clear that she was avoiding him; why she was avoiding him was a little less so. The sad thing was that it had taken him almost two months to even notice it.

Between taping “The Haney Project” for the Golf Channel, interviews, and international golf invitationals, Michael did have his hands full, despite being retired. Still, it was no excuse to not realise that his best friend had not replied to his texts or tweets, hadn’t returned his phone calls, or let him know when her next meet was. When he had finally tried harder to get in touch with her, all he got was the pre-recorded message.

With a deep sigh, Michael tapped out a reply. “I already tried that, but it didn’t work. Just forget it, I’ll handle it.” He didn’t know how he would do it, but he knew that it really wasn’t fair of him to include Bob in all of this, especially when the latter was getting ready for the World Championships, not to mention the remaining meets of the Arena Grand Prix. It didn’t make the whole thing any easier, knowing that, more so because he really didn’t know where to start fixing whatever he had broken with Allison.

Then there had been the problem of who he was to talk to about it. As much as he loved his sisters, he didn’t want to burden them with his problems with yet another female. He tried to tell his mother that he seemed to have done something to make Allison angry. She had responded with an or else stare that clearly told Michael that he should go and apologize to Allison and fix it or else. His mother had thrown a lot of those at him and his sisters since they were kids, and Michael never dared to find out exactly what or else entailed.

Jeff was no help. All he had told Michael was, “I told you, get your head out of your ass or you’ll lose her,” which Michael did not understand one bit. Jeff had not elaborated, either because he hadn’t wanted to because he was delighted to see Michael suffering over the situation or because Michael had tried to talk to him when he was pretty much drunk out of his ass. Michael had guessed the latter.

It was when Michael was playing a free-for-all on Call of Duty that the answer had come to him. Well, at least the answer of who to turn to in his hour of need, so to speak. He had seen and recognized Ryan’s username, and instead of the surge of melancholia and defeat that usually flowed whenever he thought of Ryan and consequently Abbie, Michael felt a glimmer of hope.

So he shot Ryan in the head.

Served him right, anyway, hiding instead of killing. It was a free-for-all. Michael had actually been covering Ryan’s ass the entire time he was crouched in his hiding place, taking out three people at least. Still, he couldn’t resist sending the messages, knowing he would have given anything to have been there to see Ryan freak out.

Michael realised then just how much he had missed Ryan, and decided to call him right away. It wasn’t a particularly long conversation. Then they decided to go back to the free-for-all, but as a team, and invited Matt, Nathan, Conor and Cullen to join them. And though Michael didn’t talk to Abbie because he wasn’t ready, Ryan told him later that she had rolled her eyes at the whole thing, but smiled so much she looked like her cheeks hurt.

The conversation with Abbie happened a couple of days later. For five hours, they yelled, laughed, whispered apologies, and talked about Megan. At one point Ryan had to take the phone for a minute because Abbie had started crying. Michael told her that she had said everything when she left Baltimore and that there really was nothing else to tell her.

“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy,” Michael said finally. “And you are. That should have been enough.”

In the end, all the apologies felt unnecessary to both of them, but they forgave each other anyway. Things were definitely far from where they used to be, but Michael knew they were going to be okay. And he was finally able to talk about Allison.

***

“Dwyer, I would appreciate it if you would kindly move your ass off of my towel,” Allison said, smiling sweetly at Conor. She looked behind her and lowered her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Also, I think that girl wants your autograph.”

Conor leaned back to look at the girl standing at the end of the bleachers, who was looking expectantly at them. “I think she wants yours, too,” he said, smiling right back at Allison. Her only response was to tug harder at the towel he was partially sitting on. Letting out a chuckle, Conor lifted his butt so she could pull it free. “I’m serious, Schmitty, she’s coming over and she’s looking at both of us.”

Still, Allison said nothing, but turned to smile at the girl who had, indeed, come to ask for both hers and Conor’s autographs and pictures. After the girl had gone, Allison plopped down beside Conor without a word, wrapping the towel around her shoulders. Conor stared at her staring at the pool, at the thumbnail she was currently gnawing on and the goggles dangling from her free hand.

“California air not agreeing with you, Schmitty?” he quipped, turning back to check on the next race.

Allison’s only reply was a distracted, “Huh?”

Conor laughed softly, nodded his head and just said, “Jeez, Schmitty, I never would’ve joined NBAC if I knew it would upset you this much.”

Allison’s head whipped around and she stared open-mouthed at Conor. “That is not true, Conor Dwyer, you take that back!” Then she realised that he was laughing and she rolled her eyes, muttered “funny” under her breath, and turned back to the pool. “I happen to like having you in my lane, thank you very much,” she added quietly, talking around her thumbnail.

“Not as much as you miss having Michael in it, though, right?” Conor asked, knowingly. As expected, Allison didn’t answer, but the tension in her shoulders was visible, as much as it had been for the last few months, any time Michael was brought up, which was of course pretty much all the time in their world. Conor turned to look at Allison again, grinding away on her thumbnail, and shook his head. “Schmitty, you need to talk to someone,” he said, quietly. “I’m not going to say about what, but… you should talk to someone. Maybe someone who knows more about it than anyone else.” He tapped her on the shoulder and pointed down the row of bleachers at someone else.

Allison turned in the direction Conor was pointing and found the one person she felt she could talk to, but could never bring herself to call, not in the many, many hours she lay awake, questioning her decision to cut Michael out of her life.

Ryan snorted, ignoring the video game for the moment, confident that he was well hidden and safe. “But it doesn’t seem fair,” he went on, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I mean is it really that bad, what happened? We didn’t do this to hurt him, he has to know that.”

“I think he does, Ry,” Abbie answered. “He just doesn’t want to talk to us.” She didn’t look up from the print she was holding, although she did agree with Ryan. But it didn’t change anything. She sighed again, tossing the prints onto a stack of others. Ryan sighed, too, and went back to his video game.

As soon as Ryan stood up from his hiding place in game, he was shot dead by the guy on the upper right part of the screen. “What the hell!” he exclaimed, thoroughly annoyed. He re-entered the game, and right away a private message popped up on the corner of the screen. It said, “THAT’S FOR DATING ABBIE WITHOUT TELLING ME.”

Stunned, Ryan waved at Abbie to get her attention, but she was busy with another print. “Abs,” he said, warily. Abbie didn’t respond and Ryan called her again. The username was familiar.

“Spazzee!” Ryan yelled out just as his cellphone went off. A second message appeared: “PICK UP THE PHONE, DOUCHE.”

“WHAT?” Abbie said, finally looking up. Upon seeing the messages on the screen, all she could say was. “What the shit?”

“Schmitty!” Michael exclaimed, excitedly, wrapping his arms around Allison.

Allison’s parents were in there with him, and they excused themselves once she arrived. Her mother shooed her siblings away, but she seemed to be giggling herself. Allison willed herself not to roll her eyes at the lot of them and instead told Michael. “Technically, we’re all ‘Schmitty’ in this house, Mike, so maybe you could call me, ‘Allie’?”

Michael chuckled. “Okay, okay,” he said, happily noting that Allison had not flinched away and had actually sort of hugged him back. “Allie it is. Happy New Year! I forgot to send you your Christmas present so I decided to bring it by.”

Allison looked at him, doing her best not to smile, although she was sure he could see that she was happy to see him even without one breaking out on her face. Some sort of defence mechanism must have kicked in because she found herself acidly saying, “’Bring it by?’ What, were you passing through Michigan on the way to whatever New Year’s Eve bash Megan is dragging you to? Does she even know you’re here? Do I want to know what you did to get her to let you come and see me?”

She regretted saying it as soon as she saw the look on Michael’s face. “Ah, crap, Michael, I’m sorry,” she sputtered, dropping on to the couch and covering her face with both hands.

But Michael just laughed again and shook his head a little from side. “I deserved that, so, don’t apologize,” he said, sitting beside her. “That was not one of my best decisions. And you were right. It did blow up in my face.”

“Oh, Mike.” The look of concern on Allison’s face was genuine, but Michael interrupted her consolation with a quick wave of his hand.

“I’m fine, Allie,” he said, smiling widely. “It’s not like there was ever anything real between me and Megan.”

Allison cocked her head to one side and peered at Michael through half-closed eyelids. “There were her very real clothes and Jimmy Choos in your apartment,” she retorted. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, “And very real sex, I bet.”

Michael placed a hand on his chest, and let out a scandalized gasp. “Allison Schmitt,” he admonished her, “how can you talk about sex? And in your parents’ sitting room, of all places!” He dropped the mock dismay when she hit him in the shoulder and they both laughed.

“Seriously, though, there was nothing there,” Michael went on when they had calmed down. “She was just someone to be with, I guess. I didn’t have any feelings for her, so it could never have gotten serious. I’m sorry I let you think that it was.”

There was nothing Allison could think of to say to that, partly because Michael was holding her hand and playing with her fingers, and she could hardly think straight. So she just smiled a little and nodded until she could string her thoughts together. Inwardly, she scolded herself for still letting herself get affected by Michael’s touch.

Michael lifted a hand to push back a lock of Allison’s hair. “I’ve missed you, Schmitty,” he sighed, a corner of his mouth lifted in his signature half-smile. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I know you were just looking out for me. You’re my BFF.”

Allison blinked rapidly, a ploy to cover up the fact that she couldn’t quite meet Michael’s eyes. “I’ve missed you, too, Mike,” she managed to say, a smile plastered on her face. She hoped he couldn’t tell that her palms had suddenly gone numb, and she gently pulled out her hand from his grasp, clasping them together instead. Get a grip, Schmitt, she told herself. She marshalled her emotions, despite her mind conjuring up images of neon signs flashing ‘FRIENDZONED!’, and managed to turn cheerfully to Michael. “So, you want to see what we do in Michigan on New Year’s?” she asked, leaping up off the couch.

*** 

“So you forgave him, just like that?” A soft snapping sound punctuated Shannon’s question, as she pulled her swim cap tighter over her ears. She and Allison were in the locker room getting ready for practice and the other girl had been telling her about Michael’s visit during New Year’s.

Allison sort of shrugged, but kept her eyes averted from her friend. “Well, yeah,” she answered. “It wasn’t like I could have done anything else. Besides,” she continued, winding her hair into a bun, “I haven’t spoken to him in weeks. Wasn’t that bad enough?” She ducked her head to pull on her swim cap, though truthfully it was because she sensed that there was something behind the question and she wanted very much to avoid it.

“Hmm,” Shannon murmured, but didn’t say anything else. She reached into her locker and started to rummage around inside.

Allison’s hand automatically lifted to her mouth, catching her thumbnail between her teeth. “What?” she muttered around her finger.

Shannon did not turn to look at Allison. “What ‘what’?” she asked. She continued to look through her things, continued to avoid Allison’s gaze.

“What do you mean, ‘what ‘what’’’?” There was a slight edge to Allison’s voice, more nervous than angry. Panicky, though tinged with annoyance. “I mean, ‘hmm’ what? What are you ‘hmm’-ing about?”

Shannon’s shoulders casually went up and down, and her eyes still did not meet her teammate’s. “Nothing,” was all she replied. “Have you seen my spare goggles? These ones are kind of coming loose.” She dropped her goggles on to the bench and missed the annoyed look that Allison gave her as she began pawing through her gym bag’s contents.

“Oh, come on, Shannon!” Allison guffawed, plopping onto the bench next to Shannon’s bag. “If you have something to say, just say it.” One of Shannon’s caps had fallen out as she searched. Allison picked it up and ran her thumb across the VREELAND printed on the side, nerves wound tight in anticipation of her friend’s reply.

Shannon paused in her searching and looked as if she was going to say whatever it was that she had in mind. Then she shook her head and went back to looking for her goggles. “It’s nothing, Schmitty, I get it,” she muttered, reaching into the very bottom of her bag. “It’s Michael. I get it, I guess, so it doesn’t matter. Ah-ha!” She held out her goggles triumphantly then tossed them onto Allison’s lap and began putting her things back into the bag.

“I still don’t understand,” Allison said, helping Shannon return her possessions. “So what if it’s Michael? What do you get?”

“You know, it’s Michael. I get why you feel it’s okay for him to just treat you like that then you just forgive him,” Shannon said quickly. She thanked Allison and then zipped up her bag. “I guess I just hoped you’d stopped doing that by now. Or that he would.”

Allison’s mouth opened and closed in the space of about a second, without anything coming out, not even air. She could only watch Shannon as she picked up her bag and slammed her locker door shut. Finally, after about ten years of trying to find her words, Allison spoke up. “But,” she sputtered. “I don’t think it’s okay.”

Shannon paused at the end of the row of lockers and sighed. When she turned to face Allison, her face radiated sympathy. “No, honey, I guess you don’t,” she said, walking back to her friend. “But it sure seems like you do. I mean, it’s not the first time that this has happened, right? He messes up, you get mad, he apologizes and everything’s back to how it was before. It’s like, whatever he does, you just let it go as soon as he says sorry, then he just goes and does it all over again.”

Allison just stared at her, but her brain seemed to go on automatic review, reliving all the times that she and Michael had fought. Or rather, all the times he had pissed her off. Did she really just let him off the hook once he apologized? It certainly seemed that way. “I guess I didn’t realise it,” Allison told her hands as they lay on her lap, Shannon’s swim cap still dangling from her fingers. She heard Shannon heave a deep sigh and in a moment felt her friend’s arm around her shoulders.

“Schmitty,” Shannon began, her voice thick with solace, “maybe I’m overstating things. If you think about it, it’s not that bad. But, you have to remember, it’s not okay for someone to keep screwing things up with you. You don’t have to keep forgiving them if they make a mistake. The truth is,” Shannon went on, getting up from the bench, pulling Allison up with her, “you don’t need that kind of person in your life, even if you are in love with them.”

Allison let Shannon lead her out onto the pool deck, her mind still spooling out memories of her and Michael. She spent the whole of practice in silent reflection, going through the motions, as if her body was a machine working on voice command from her coach. Not until the end of the day did she manage to find a response to what Shannon had said.

“I don’t want to be,” Allison mumbled, as she packed her gym bag at the end of practice. She turned to Shannon, who’s locker was next to hers, and who was standing talking to Megan Romano. “Shannon, I don’t want to be,” she said again.

Both girls looked at her, confused. “Don’t want to be what, Schmitty?” Shannon asked, her head tilted slightly and her brow furrowed in concern.

Kari rolled her eyes, handing her a red ribbon from the box on the vanity table. “Well, maybe if you’d talk about what was bugging you, you wouldn’t be so spaced out and you’d notice the pain you’re inflicting on everyone around you.” She looked at Allison’s reflection pointedly while the latter gave her ponytail a final tightening tug. “Ow! Okay, that did not feel like an accident!”

“That’s ‘cause it wasn’t,” Allison said, sticking her tongue out. Kari stuck hers out too, while Kristen and Sara laughed.

“Kari’s right, though, Allie,” Kristen said after a while. “You do seem incredibly distracted and not in a good way. Why don’t you just tell us what’s up?”

“Yeah, Allie, spill,” Sara piped up.

Allison heaved a sigh and looked around at her sisters. She had been avoiding this conversation all week, but her face always was a bright neon sign of emotions. Besides, her family could always tell how she was feeling by the way she blinked or coughed or said “cheese.”

“Is this about Michael and that skank he took to Golden Goggles?” Kari asked, suddenly.

Allison did a double-take. “How do you even know that? And don’t say ‘skank’. Anyway, we don’t know her. Mike seems to like her so I’m… I’ve decided to – well –“

“Tolerate her?” Sara concluded with a snort of laugher. “Oh, please, you hate her! I heard you. I was at Golden Goggles, too. We sat at the same table and I heard you talking to Michael about her.”

“I don’t hate her,” Allison countered, “I may not like her very much, but I don’t hate her. Hate is a very strong word.”

“Who is she anyway?” Kristen asked. “I saw the pictures online, but I didn’t know who she was. Apparently, she’s like a model or something.”

“Or something,” Kari answered before Allison could. “TMZ said she was some sort of escort. Told you. Skank.”

“Stop it, Kari,” Allison admonished her. “We can’t keep saying things like that about people we don’t know. I mean, ok, she hasn’t been a very nice person to me but Mike seems to like her, so I can’t do anything about it. But I’m not going to call her names, either.” Allison winced slightly as the words ‘Twitter-happy Tina’ and ‘Malibu Barbie’ echoed in her head. The resolution not to call Megan mean names was a recent development. The guilt had crept in once she was back home; guilt over yelling at Michael, guilt over being judgemental and mean about Megan. If Michael wanted to be with Megan, all Allison could really do was be supportive and hope for the best. The best being Michael realising that Megan was a fame seeking waste of his time and effort and affections and that he needed to drop her, quick.

Besides, the alternative was to admit that she was crushed and jealous of Megan’s place in Michael’s life, a spot that Allison had once hoped to occupy, but had long since given up on. Or so she thought, until recent developments once again placed the position in the spotlight. That she still wanted to be in that position after all this time was not an easy admission to make, even to herself.

“Okay, so Michael’s dating her now?” Kristen asked. “Are they a couple?”

Allison fiddled with the ribbon she was winding around Kari’s ponytail before she answered, but she shook her head ‘no’. “She’s just someone Michael met at a club and they’re just going out. I don’t know if it’s serious.”

“So, why don’t you ask him?”

“I did,” Allison sighed. “His answer was… inconclusive.”

“What?” Kari and Sari said at the same time, both letting out a laugh.

“Well, when I went over to his place and asked him, he said it wasn’t serious,” Allison went on, pulling back her own hair. “Yet her dirty laundry was sitting in a pile in a corner of his apartment. Her shoes were all over the place, and not just a few pairs, I mean friggin’ Designer Shoe Warehouse level.”

Kristen cocked her head to the side and cast a look of understanding at her sister. “And that’s why you’ve been upset ever since you came back from Baltimore.”

Allison’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, then drifted to the left, puffing out her cheeks. Kari let out an exaggeratedly bored sigh and got up from her seat at the vanity. “Of course, you’re not upset, what were we thinking,” she declared. She placed her hands on Allison’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You’re a smart girl, sis. You don’t need us to figure this out.” Motioning to Sara, she squeezed Allison’s shoulder and winked. “Anyway, S and I will catch up with you guys later.” The twins breezed out of Allison’s room, jabbering non-stop about the new hockey gear that they had gotten from an uncle for Christmas.

Kristen watched them go, then stood up. “Allie, it’s okay to be upset about Michael and that girl,” she said. “He’s your friend and she doesn’t exactly seem to be nice. If you are upset, you should tell Michael about it. And you should tell him why you’re upset.” Kristen’s emphasis was unmistakable, but Allison had no idea what it was for. Or, at least she didn’t want to think she did. Because it was the last thing she would ever tell Michael, even if it meant that he would stop seeing the ska – Megan.

Electronic beeping sounds interrupted Allison’s thoughts, the screen showing that it was Abbie calling. “Hey, Abbie,” Allison greeted her.

“Hey, Schmitty, Merry Christmas!” Abbie responded. “Did you have a good holiday?”

Allison nodded as she replied. “Yeah, you?”

“I did,” Abbie answered. “Ryan says hi.”

“Tell him I say hi back.”

“Anyway,” Abbie said, then paused for a few seconds. Allison thought she might know why she did. “I actually wanted to ask if you’ve spoken to Michael recently.”

And there it was. Not that it annoyed Allison, but she did wonder if anybody ever thought of asking her about someone or something else. “No,” she answered simply, failing to say that the non-communication was by choice and not just circumstance.

“Oh. Okay.” Abbie seemed disappointed. Allison bit her lip to keep from saying something she might regret. “Well, I just… I wondered if you knew anything about this Megan girl he seems to be dating. I… He still won’t take my calls and he never replied to my texts or DMs after that one time. And he hasn’t spoken to Ryan at all.”

Guiltily, Allison gnawed at her lower lip, twisting a strand of her hair around one finger. She didn’t know that Michael had responded to Abbie in any way, and hearing that she had been messaging him made Allison think about what state Michael was in right now. “Don’t worry about him, Abbie,” she said, trying to comfort the girl. “He’ll come around. He loves you. Both of you. He just needs time to wrap his head around you and Ryan being together.”

“I know, Schmitty, I just…” Abbie trailed off, ending with a sigh instead.

“He’ll come around,” Allison repeated. “And don’t worry about Megan, I don’t think it’ll last very long.” At least, I hope it won’t, she added silently.

Abbie sighed again, and for a few seconds the line was again quiet. “I suppose you’re right. You know him better than I do, anyway. If you do talk to him, please tell him that we miss him. And that we never meant to hurt him.” She paused, as though she just had a realisation. “You know that, don’t you, Schmitty? Ryan and I, we didn’t mean for things to happen this way, they just… did.”

There was a heartbeat before Allison answered. She knew it, and she couldn’t fault Abbie or Ryan for how Michael was feeling now. She just wished it didn’t hurt him so badly. At least, that’s what she thought he was feeling. After her visit to his apartment, she no longer knew how he felt about Ryan and Abbie. Michael did not and would not say, so all Allison could do was guess. “I know that, Abbie,” she said finally. “And Michael does, too. He just hasn’t realised it yet.”

“Thanks, Schmitty. Merry Christmas,” Abbie said. “I hope you have a happy new year.”

Allison smiled a little. “You, too, Abs. Take care.”

***

Michael pushed the food around his plate, Megan chattering across from him, her voice mingling with the buzz of the crowd around them.  He just kept nodding his head, barely caring what he was agreeing to. It had been like that for several weeks, because nothing really mattered much to Michael anymore.

His phone went off, and though he couldn’t hear it over the din, the light caught his eye. Michael suddenly sprang to life, but almost immediately slumped back in his seat. It was another direct message from Abbie, which he would ignore until later. She had been messaging him a lot and he had finally caved and replied once; she clung to that single response like it was a lifeline. To be perfectly honest, Michael wasn’t sure what to do about Abbie and Ryan anymore. He still couldn’t bring himself to be angry at them, even though he felt like he had every right to be, but he didn’t want to talk to them either, not yet anyway. The only person he wanted to talk to didn’t want to talk to him.

The momentary break in Michael’s numbness brought Megan’s words into clearer focus. “The truth is, Mikey, this is just not a place I want to be right now,” she was saying.

Michael blinked at her. “Did you want to go somewhere else?” he asked, confused.

Megan didn’t appear to have heard what he said, since she kept eating and talking. “I mean, it just doesn’t seem to be working and we just want different things.” She put down her fork dramatically and looked at Michael as though suffering for something. “It’s not you, Mikey. It’s me.”

It took several seconds for Michael to realize that she was breaking up with him. Not that there was even anything to ‘break up’, really, at least not for him. Obviously, Megan held their relationship in a different – and higher – regard than he did.

Megan was looking at Michael expectantly. She had asked him a question, but Michael, lost in his own amused thoughts about the situation, had not been able to catch it. However, she seemed to have taken his lack of response as an actual answer, and went right on speaking. “Of course you’ll be okay,” she prattled on, going back to her salad. “And, of course, you can always call me if you want to talk or do something.”

Michael almost snorted wine up his nose, but disguised it with a clearing of his throat. “Of course,” he managed to say, his voice cracking from the strain of keeping his laughter in. In the back of his mind, he could almost hear Allison say, “She probably thinks you’re holding back tears. And you are. Tears of joy! God, Mike! You sure picked a peach.”

A small smile found its way on to Michael’s face, and for a few moments, Megan, the people at the restaurant, the ridiculous situation in front of him – everything – fell away, and he just thought of Allison. He imagined her sitting across from him, smiling, telling her jokes, somehow making him laugh and telling him off for something at the same time.  Only Schmitty, Michael thought, his smile widening.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt – almost literally – as Megan’s shrill voice penetrated his daydream. “Oh, my god, is that the time?!” she shrieked, making a big show of grabbing her phone. She heaved a great, theatrical sigh and looked dolefully at Michael. “I have to go,” she said, but she lingered over gathering her things together. When it was obvious that Michael was not going to stop her leaving, Megan finally got up from her seat and said goodbye to Michael, though not before planting a deep kiss on his lips. “Call me,” she purred into his ear before tottering away.

A waiter came up to the table and asked Michael if his companion will be re-joining him. Michael responded with an amused “No, thankfully,” and asked for the check. He left the restaurant still inclined to laugh out loud at what had just happened. Instinctively, he reached for his phone and had already started tapping out a message to Allison, before he remembered that they were not currently on speaking terms.

He wondered, as he headed home, how he kept getting into this mess with Allison. She had only ever been understanding and supportive of him and all he did was bite her head off. It was messing with his head. The only way he could clear it was to swim (which he had already tried; it didn’t work) or talk to someone about it. But it was something Michael would normally talk to Allison about, but since she wasn’t talking to him, he couldn’t do that, and even if she was talking to him, he couldn’t do that, because it was Allison that was messing up his head.

So who was he supposed to talk to now? His mom? His sisters? Bob? Somehow, Michael didn’t think he could get the words out if he tried telling any of them. He didn’t understand the situation himself.

That was one of the many, many great things about his relationship with Allison. He never had to find the right words with her. Somehow, she always just knew what he wanted to say. Sometimes, even before Michael knew it himself.

Michael tiredly took off his clothes to take a quick shower before bed. It had been a long dinner, despite Megan leaving in the middle of it, and the only good thing was that he no longer had to pretend like he gave a damn about anything that girl had to offer.

After his shower, he tweeted “Things happen for a reason.. #notme”, then dropped off to sleep, wishing he could have talked to Allison instead. Maybe he should call her; now that he was “single” again, there really was no reason he couldn’t. And she would enjoy telling him ‘I told you so’, since she was, once again, right about how the Megan thing was going to blow up in his face.

Jeff was standing in the kitchen, eating a granola bar and giving Megan the stink-eye behind her back. She was sitting on the couch, eating her cereal and reading a magazine, while Michael played Call of Duty next to her. Neither of the boys seemed to have noticed Allison was there, despite the fact that Megan should have at least mentioned her arrival. Finally, Jeff looked up and saw her, immediately making a beeline for her position.

“Schmitty, hey!” he said, giving her a hug. Michael looked up from the screen at the sound of her name but forgot to hit the ‘pause’ button on the controller. “It’s so great to see you!”

Allison hugged him back and returned his enthusiasm over seeing her. “You, too, Jeff. It’s been a while,” she said as they broke apart. She waved to Michael who waved back. “Um, Mike, your head just got blown off,” she pointed out, indicating the screen.

Michael looked back at the screen, distractedly, and shut off the system. He tossed the controller on the coffee table and got up to greet Allison. Or, more accurately, to stand awkwardly in front of her.

Jeff glanced from one to the other for several seconds before announcing that he had to leave. “I got a game,” he said by way of explanation. “Schmitty, I should see you more often. Mike, ol’ buddy, I’ll see you, later.” He gave Michael a light slap on the back, grabbed his coat and keys and left without bothering to say goodbye to Megan, who didn’t seem to be paying attention to them anyway. She tossed the magazine she was flipping through and picked up another one without missing a beat.

“Hey,” Michael said, his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

Allison sort of shrugged and gave him a small smile. “School let out early for Christmas and I wanted to see Bob, so my parents let me fly out to see him before I went home.”

“So you’re here to see Bob?” Michael asked. “Just Bob?”

Allison rolled her eyes at the smile on Michael’s face. “Oh, don’t make me say it, Phelps. You lied to me in New York. You said we’d see each other after Golden Goggles but when I looked for you at the end of the night, you were gone. You know, I waited–“ She cut herself off and waved her hand. “Forget it. Obviously, I wanted to see you, too. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Michael’s smile widened but before he could say something, Megan sighed loudly from her spot on the couch and tossed her magazine on the coffee table. Allison noticed that it was practically overflowing with junk like magazines, half-empty Chinese takeout boxes and empty diet shake bottles.

“Babe, I’m gonna take a shower,” Megan said, ditching her cereal bowl in the sink without rinsing it. “Don’t forget we have reservations at that new place at eight and you promised to take me to the Get Down tonight.” She stood next to Michael with her arms crossed and looked at him, as though Alison was not there.

“I know,” Michael responded. Allison heard a slight stress when he said ‘know’, but decided not to comment on it. “I have time. And I haven’t seen Allison since New York. You know Allison right?”

Megan barely glanced at Allison and just shot her another fake smile. “Don’t take too long, you have to get ready.” With another quick glance at Allison, and yet another fake smile, Megan turned and headed for Michael’s bedroom.

Once she was gone, Allison couldn’t help herself. “I thought you said it wasn’t serious.”

“It’s not,” was all Michael said. He headed back into the living room and dropped onto the couch. “She’s just staying here while her apartment gets fumigated.”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “Really? You fell for that?”

Michael blew out a sigh. “Come on, Schmitty, give me a little credit. I picked her up from her building, I saw the tent myself. Besides, would we really bring all of her stuff here if she was faking it?”

“Fine,” Allison conceded. “Speaking of her stuff, couldn’t she have put all of this in a storage unit, instead of cluttering things up here?”

“She said she needed her stuff,” Michael answered, shrugging. It wasn’t a good explanation and they both knew it. What Allison didn’t know was why Michael was putting up with it.

“Look, Michael, I get that you’re hurting right now,” she said, picking her way through the mess on the floor, which seemed to be mostly Megan’s clothes and shoes. With a hop, skip and a jump, she managed to reach the couch and plopped right down next to Michael. “You’re sad and a little angry and the knowledge that Abbie and Ryan are now in a committed relationship may have possibly driven you insane.”

“It didn’t drive me insane, Schmitty,” Michael retorted, sorting through the landfill that was formerly the coffee table for the Xbox controller.

“I said ‘possibly’,” Allison reiterated, with a roll of her eyes. “Even if it did and you’re currently out of your mind, it does not justify you shacking up with Twitter-happy Tina in there.” She jerked her head towards Michael’s closed bedroom door.

Michael glanced at the door then back at Allison. “Her name’s Megan, and I’m not ‘shacking up’ with anyone,” he insisted, turning to face the flatscreen as his game loaded. “And anyway, what’s it to you if I am? I’m a grown man, Schmitty, I can make my own decisions.”

“Not very good ones, apparently,” Allison commented. “I thought you were done with these kinds of girls.”

Michael didn’t look at her but his brow furrowed, seemingly concentrating on shooting the head off an enemy sniper on screen. “What kind do you mean, exactly?”

Allison threw her hands up in the air, frustrated. “You know, all boobs, no brain. The kind that looks pretty walking down the red carpet but has the personality of cardboard.”

“She’s not that flat,” Michael said, in a feeble attempt to defend Megan. “And she’s not that dumb.”

“Of course, she’s a Mensa candidate, I’m sure,” Allison retorted. “I thought after Abbie, you’d be over the whole arm candy thing. I thought you’d–“ For the second time, Allison stopped herself talking and changed tack at the speed of light. “I swear, Mike, it’s like you’re trying to fuck your life up on purpose.”

A muscle at Michael’s jaw worked visibly as he clenched his teeth. He still wouldn’t look at her. He forced himself to slide over the second mention of Abbie, and said, “Well, it’s my life to fuck up. So, why don’t you just butt the hell out of it, Allison?”

Her name hung heavy in the silence between them. It was one thing to introduce her to Megan as Allison, but when Michael stopped calling her ‘Schmitty’, she knew she had hit a nerve. There was no way, however, that she would apologize for speaking her mind, especially when she knew she had a valid point.

“Fine,” Allison said, coldly, getting up from her seat. “I’ll butt out. Keep living your life with Malibu Barbie. But don’t come crawling to me when this comes back and bites you in the ass. Oh, wait, you don’t do that,” she went on, stomping towards the door and yanking it open. “You just shut yourself in and convince yourself that nobody in the world cares about you. You know what, Michael? You just might be right this time.”

With the finality of death sentence, Allison walked out and slammed the door shut. Michael finally turned to look at her but she was already gone. When he turned back to the TV, it was to find out that his character had been shot in the head. Again.

Luckily, Michael still ended up having fun, in spite of the company he had arrived with. It was one of the biggest nights for swimmers, outside of meets. And the rest of the people at his table more than made up for Megan. The night went on, and the awards were given out and Michael managed to ignore Megan’s incessant prattle at his side. It didn’t seem like she needed him to answer or pay attention anyway. She just kept talking even though Michael looked less than interested. Finally, towards the end of the night, he managed to extricate himself from Megan’s side long enough to head over to see Allison.

The first words out of her mouth when he approached were, “Are you serious, Mike?”

“As a heart attack,” Michael shot back, pointing at her and giving her a roguish wink.

Allison tried not to look amused, but a smile was threatening to break the disapproving look on her face.  She managed to rein it in by biting her lip. “You know what I mean,” she finally said, managing to sound mildly caustic. “Why her? Why that girl?”

“I don’t know, Schmitty,” Michael replied, taking the seat next to her, which her sister had just vacated to go to the restroom. “She was available. I didn’t really think about it too much.”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “Then, why didn’t you just take your mom?” Michael shrugged in reply, and she sighed. “Well, it’s your life, I guess. Just don’t let her ruin your night and please, for the love of all that is holy, do not tell me that you’re serious about this one.”

“I’m not,” Michael answered quickly. “At least, I don’t plan to be.”

“Thank God, then,” Allison declared and rolled her eyes.

Michael smiled and gave her a small hug. “You look amazing, by the way,” he said, touching her cheek gently, before getting up to head back to his table.

Allison put a hand to the spot Michael had touched and smiled. She looked up to say thank you, although she was sure Michael was already too far to hear her, but she was surprised to see that he was only a few steps away. He looked like he’d been punch in the gut. Allison followed his line of sight and felt her heart sink.

They were sitting down, of course, but Michael saw it in the way that Ryan had his hand on the back of Abbie’s chair. In the way she had her hand on his knee. This was more than them being close friends. This – This was it. It. Even without anyone telling him, Michael was so certain that he had to fight to keep it together.

“Mike,” he heard Allison say from behind him.

Michael didn’t answer; his tongue felt frozen to the roof of his mouth. So it was true. She did leave him for Ryan. Michael wanted to be angry, to hate them both for a lifetime, but he couldn’t muster anything else other than a deep sense of defeat.

“Michael,” Allison said, with more urgency. Michael knew she wanted him to turn around but he seemed hypnotized by what he was seeing: Ryan leaning in to whisper into Abbie’s ear, her mouth turned up in an amused smile.

He had to turn away; he didn’t want to see this. He focused, instead, on Allison’s hand on his shoulder, focused on her saying his name. He managed to wrench his gaze from the pair to look at Allison. His hurt must have shown on his face because she was looking at him like he had just lost the biggest race of his life, which, in a way, he had.

“Schmitty?” Michael uttered, his face asking what his mouth could not.

She sighed and nodded. The pain in his eyes made her reach for his hand. “I just found out tonight and I’m not sure how long,” she said. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you going to be ok?”

“I have to go over there,” Michael declared, as if he hadn’t heard Allison’s question. “I have to talk to her.”

“To say what, Michael?” Allison reasoned, detaining Michael with her other hand on his arm. “You haven’t even spoken to Abbie in months. What are you going to say to her now?”

“I don’t know, Schmitty!” Michael exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. A few people turned to look at him. Allison gestured for him to calm down. “I don’t know,” Michael said, more calmly. “I don’t know. I just want to talk to her.”

Allison stared at Michael, one hand still holding his. He was rubbing his thumb back and forth across her fingers, absentmindedly, it seemed, but Allison was acutely aware of it. She took a deep breath, more to calm her own quickly beating heart. “Mike, do you honestly think that’s a good idea?” she asked him, slowly. “Look at her. She’s happy. Isn’t that what you always wanted her to be?”

Michael glanced at Abbie and Ryan again for a second, then turned away. “I –“ he stuttered, suddenly dropping Allison’s hand. “I have to – I have to go back. Megan’s waiting.”

“Mike,” Allison intoned, her eyes pleading with Michael to stay away from Abbie.

“Schmitty, I promise, I won’t,” Michael responded. Again, he was feeling something other than what he wanted to feel. As much as he wanted to talk to Abbie, he knew that Allison was right. Allison was always right. And he just wanted to get away from her always being right. He took a step away, but Allison grabbed his hand again. With a sigh, Michael dropped his head, but turned back to give her another hug. Pulling back, he laid his forehead on hers. “I promise, Schmitty, I’m not going to go there. I just want to get back to our table before people kill Megan. Or themselves.”

They laughed. “Ok,” Allison said, pulling away and looking at him. “I’ll see you later, right?”

There was a moment where Michael just looked at her, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. She waited for his response, almost giving up on getting one, so long was the silence between them. He took a step back, away from her, before he answered, almost dazedly. “Yeah. Of course.”

Allison smiled and returned to her seat. Michael turned and fairly ran to his own, dropping into his seat like rock.

“Where’ve you been?” Megan asked, sounding annoyed. One look at the table’s occupants told Michael that she had not even tried to talk to anybody. It almost stopped him from what he had decided to do on the way back from Allison’s table.

“Bathroom,” he replied. He leaned towards Megan, his hand finding its way to her knee, and whispered, “Hey, you want to get out of here? Go somewhere we can be alone?”

Anthony smiled at them, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses. “Sorry,” he said, with no hint of remorse. He sounded cheerful, even. “It’s just that I saw a record store back there and I wanted to check it out.” Will shot him a murderous glance, which he returned with an even wider smile. “Oh, come on, Copeland, you have to admit that was kind of fun.”

“My life just flashed before my eyes,” Will declared, one hand still on his chest. “Jeezus, I thought I was going to die.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. Nate had it under control. Ok, kidding, I’m sorry,” he quickly added when his friends shot him identical looks of annoyance. “I really am. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Nathan muttered under his breath as they got out of the car. Anthony just laughed and started walking to the music store that had caused their minor mishap, his friends following reluctantly. Three soft dings went off when they entered, but the girl behind the register barely looked up from the computer screen. It was a smallish shop and there really wasn’t enough room for all of them between the aisles so they spread out. Some random pop song was playing faintly on the store’s speakers, but the shelves had great alternative selections, which Anthony was more than happy to browse through. Another ding went off, signalling someone else coming into the shop.

“Hey, Angela,” Anthony heard the girl at the register say. It was the first sign of life from her and Anthony turned to see who it was she was talking to, but a cardboard display was blocking his view. He pushed his sunglasses up on his head.

“Hey, Dina,” answered the girl who had just come in. “Is my cousin around?” She had a sweet, cheerful voice and Anthony felt strangely drawn to it. Surreptitiously, he started to edge towards the source.

“He went out to get some food,” Dina replied. “Honestly, I think he was just bored. With school starting soon, not a lot of people have come by. These guys are the first to come in today.” She jerked her head towards Will and Nathan who laughing over an old LP sleeve.

Anthony leaned to the right, still trying to see the one called Angela, while simultaneously straining to hear her speak. She must have leaned closer to Dina because all Anthony heard next was faint murmuring and then giggling.

“What is this music?” Angela asked after a few moments.

“I have no idea. Your cousin put it on. I was just too lazy to change it.”

The faint music stopped abruptly. “Oh, much better,” Angela sighed in relief, as a different song came flowing out of the speakers.

With an approving nod, Anthony paused. The girl had great taste in music, too. He took another step closer to the counter, finally managing to get both girls in his line of sight, although Angela’s back was turned to him. He also managed to bump into one of the shelves, dislodging a few music magazines from a display. He immediately knelt down to pick them up, mumbling an apology.

“Don’t worry about it,” a cheerful voice said. A pair of jean-clad legs came into Anthony’s view, replaced by a radiant smile on a beautiful face. Anthony looked up and was pretty sure his mouth had dropped open. He shot to his feet, bumping into the same shelves, causing even more magazines to fall to the floor. “Oh, shit, sorry!” Anthony blurted out, stooping down again.

With a small laugh, Angela gathered the magazines and stood up. “Don’t worry about it,” she said again. She placed the magazines on the counter then turned back to Anthony. “Did you find something you like?”

Anthony’s mind was drawing a blank, staring at Angela’s expectant face which was slowly turning into a confused one. “Ok, well if you need any help, just holler, ok?” she said finally. She smiled at Anthony and started to turn back to Dina.

In a fit of something like panic, Anthony grabbed the nearest CD and rushed to the counter. “This one,” he blurted out, holding out the CD to Angela. “I’d like to buy this one.”

Angela glanced from his face to the CD then back to his face. “You’re sure you want that one?”

Anthony nodded in response, not trusting himself to speak.

“You’re absolutely sure you want to buy that CD?”

“Y-yeah.”

Angela bit her lip, looking like she was trying to keep from laughing. She took the CD from Anthony and looked at it. “Okay, well, I’ll have Dina here ring up ‘Mating Calls of the African Wild’ for you.”

“Sure – What?” Anthony snatched the CD back from Angela’s hand before Dina could take it. It was not “Mating Calls of the African Wild”, but a world music CD, which was not bad, but not really something that would be his first choice either. He looked up at Angela and Dina, who were laughing quietly. Pretty soon, he started to laugh, too. “Ok, very funny. Do you do this to all your customers?”

“No,” Angela replied, leaning against the counter and looking at Anthony, “just the ones who make it easy. Now, do you really want that CD?”

Anthony smiled and shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, world music is fine, it’s just not my first choice.”

“Ok, then,” Angela said with a slight nod. “Did you find something you actually want to buy?”

“Well, I didn’t really get a good look at everything,” Anthony replied. “I was kind of distracted.” He didn’t add that she was the one that had distracted him from his browsing. “Do you think you can maybe… show me around?”

Angela exchanged looks with Dina, but Anthony couldn’t tell what kind of look it was. He saw the smiles on both their faces, not what was hidden behind them. Angela’s voice cut into his musings. “Sure,” she agreed. “What kind of music do you like? I mean, you can tell me or I can show you what I like. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Anthony replied quickly, smiling.

Angela smiled back. “Ok, then. Come this way.” She tilted her head towards one of the shelves, but before Anthony could follow, Will accosted him from behind.

“Dude, come on, I’m starving,” he grumbled. “Can we just eat first and then come back?”

“What?” Anthony stuttered, turning to look at Will they were crammed between shelves, both looking at Anthony with confused faces.

“Feed me!” Will declared, loudly. “Must eat! My body craves sustenance!”

Choosing to ignore him, Anthony turned to look back at Angela, but she had already disappeared between the shelves. “Uh, where…?” He looked at Dina and she shrugged. He darted to the row that Angela had gestured to before Will had interrupted but he found no sign of her. A soft ding went off throughout the shop, and Anthony hurried towards the end of the aisle in time to see the door close behind Angela.

“Thanks a lot, Will,” Anthony groaned. With a frustrated sigh, he went running after her, catching up to her in the parking lot. He reached out to catch her arm, as gently as he could. “Hey, Angela, wait up.”

Angela halted at Anthony’s touch and turned to face him. “Wait, how do you know my name?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t look angry, just confused.”

“I, uh, I overheard Dina say it,” Anthony admitted sheepishly.  “Look, I’m sorry about my friend, he can be distracting sometimes. And I’d really like it if you showed me around your store. I like the vintage records and I was wondering if you could tell me about them.” He gave her an apologetic look, which quickly turned into a confused one when she started laughing.

“It’s not my store, it’s my cousin’s,” Angela said, still laughing. “And I didn’t mind your friend, actually. I didn’t walk out because I was mad. I just wanted to get you out of there. I figured if you didn’t follow me,” she went on, shrugging, “you weren’t interested.”

Anthony was speechless for a moment. Then he let out a laugh of his own. “Tricky,” he declared. “But nice move.”

“Thank you,” Angela replied, with a small bow. “Ok, you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Tony. Anthony. But you can call me Tony.” He held out his hand as an afterthought.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tony,” Angela replied, shaking his hand. Then she handed him a CD. “Bastille. Bad Blood. It’s really good. Don’t worry about paying for it, it’s my copy from the register.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it back then,” Anthony answered. He could tell from the look on Angela’s face that she meant for him to bring it back.

“You better,” she announced, as she started to walk backwards towards the store. “Besides, I still have to tell you about the vintage records, right?” She did an about-face and walked past Nathan and Will who were heading towards Anthony.

Nathan looked at Angela then faced Anthony. “What was that about?” he asked, amused.

Anthony looked at the CD in his hand and smiled. “I’ll tell you over lunch,” he said in reply. “Come on, we need to feed Copeland before he starts making puppy faces at us.”

Then again, when he texted her things like that, it was kind of hard not to get butterflies.

She silently willed herself to believe that he meant it in the most platonic way possible. She was giddy enough as it was, without having to think about how she felt – used to feel – about Michael Phelps. She glanced out of the town car’s window and agitatedly smoothed down her dress as it pulled up to the Marriot in Times Square. She was in New York for this year’s Golden Goggles and so was Michael, of course, and they would soon be seeing each other.

Allison could hardly breathe with anticipation.

And it wasn’t just because of Michael. It was everything. The Golden Goggles was one of the most glamorous and prestigious nights for swimmers. What Allison enjoyed the most was that it gave her and her teammates an excuse to show up in something other than their gear or warm up clothes. She wondered if Michael would like the dress she chose to wear and what he would say when he saw her, then quickly regretted even thinking about it.

After shooting Michael a quick “I’ve missed you, too,” reply (thus avoiding saying too much out of nerves), Allison tucked her phone into a little clutch, then opened the car door and stepped out on to the red carpet. The press line was a little ways down and she could see some of her teammates already going through it. Allison handed her clutch off to her family who went to find their seats while she caught up with Elizabeth Beisel at the line, just in time for a photo. Then there was another photo, and another, and Allison walked down the line, answering one reporter’s questions, then the next, all the while thinking about how glamorous she felt tonight. She still hadn’t seen Michael, although it was kind of hard to see everybody when the coordinators were intent on moving you down the press line as quickly as possible.

Something else floated to the forefront of Allison’s mind as flashbulbs went off in front of her: was Abbie behind one of those cameras? Surely the Golden Goggles was something they’d feature on her magazine, especially with all the focus they’d been giving on swimming lately. Allison had seen the feature on Ryan and she admired Abbie’s work, and she was sure that an event like this would be assigned to her.

Of course, the biggest reason why Allison was worried that Abbie might be around was because of Michael. It had only been a couple of months since Abbie left Baltimore, so he might not be ready to see her. At least, that’s what Allison thought. She knew that if it was her she would not be ready to see the person who broke her heart, even if it had been two months. Then again, she was still talking to Michael – NO! Allison screamed inwardly, not letting herself complete that thought. Focusing on the moment, she hitched up her smile and put all thoughts of Michael out of her head.

She had reached the end of the press line and was heading towards the ballroom, but another photographer called her name, so she turned back for one last photograph. That was when she caught sight of Ryan making his way through the press gauntlet. And he wasn’t alone.

Abbie stood beside him, in a short blue dress, with a radiant smile on her face. Her attention was on the reporter that was probably asking if she and Ryan were dating, most likely prompted by the way Ryan had his hand on the small of Abbie’s back. As Allison watched, the two of them laughed, and it looked like Ryan was letting Abbie do the talking, which she thought was probably wise. Ryan and Abbie finished up with the reporter and were heading towards where Allison was standing. When they finally reached her, Abbie squealed at the same time she did.

“Schmitty!” Abbie squeaked, throwing her arms around the other girl. “Oh, god, it’s so good to see you! You look gorgeous! I’ve missed you, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Allison replied, giving Abbie a quick squeeze then turning to give Ryan a hug as well. “How are you guys? Are you…?” She trailed off, but gave them both a meaningful yet questioning smile. Abbie bit her lip, but the happiness on her face was obvious. Ryan replied with a shrug and a wide grin, and Allison knew.

“Oh, that’s awesome!” Allison exclaimed, giving Abbie another hug. They all walked inside together, still talking as they looked for their seats.

“Have you seen Michael?” Abbie asked. Allison shook her head in reply and Abbie started looking around, presumably trying to find him. “I haven’t spoken to him at all since I left Baltimore. I tried texting him a few times, but he never replied.”

Allison was only able to shrug, not being in the place of telling Abbie what Michael had told her in confidence. Anyway, she was sure Abbie knew why Michael had not been responding to her texts.

“I heard he sold his condo in Fell’s Point,” Ryan commented.

“Yeah, he switched to a more private part of the city,” Allison replied. “He’s in Canton now.” She decided not to mention the other, bigger reason that Michael also wanted to move out, seeing as how said reason was currently holding hands with Ryan.

“Well, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” Abbie finally said. She sounded wistful, though, and Ryan put a comforting arm around her shoulders. Abbie looked up at him with a small smile and sighed. “We’d better take our seats, Ry, they’ll be starting soon. It was so nice to see you again, Schmitty. We’ll see you later ok?”

Allison said, “Sure,” and waved as Ryan and Abbie made their way to their table. She found hers and sat down, feeling a little off-balance. She was glad that Ryan and Abbie were finally together and they looked immensely happy to be so. But she was also worried about how Michael was going to take the news.

Not that she had to worry about it for too long. Michael soon walked into the ballroom, with some arm candy of his own.

Allison’s first reaction was a very unladylike snort. The leggy blonde was hanging on to Michael’s arm as though she was super-glued to it. After a few seconds of wracking her brain, Allison recognized the girl. She was the one that had been tweeting Michael during the Olympics, like she was his girlfriend or something. Megan something or other. She and Michael had met in February at a club and had since been after the Olympian. Even though Michael had ignored her tweets and had been going out with Abbie at the time, the girl kept up her social media rampage. Allison grudgingly admitted that the girl was kind of pretty, if you were into the whole tall, blonde, modelly look, like most guys were. Michael used to be, but Allison thought his taste had changed after Abbie. Unfortunately, he seemed to be falling back into old habits. And types.

A smile spread across Allison’s face. It was fun hearing Michael apologise. It didn’t happen a lot and to be honest, Allison had already forgiven him anyway. “It’s fine, Mike,” she replied. “I get that you’re hurting and it’s not the easiest thing to feel, heartbreak. I just wanted you to know that someone’s here for you.”

Michael sighed deeply. “I know and I really appreciate that. I just… I don’t know, I guess I didn’t like hearing what you said.”

“About Abbie and Ryan, you mean?”

Michael flinched again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Why was Allison torturing him like this? Hadn’t he alraeady apologized for snapping at her?

“Mike, you know it’s possible, right?” she countered when he didn’t answer. “You’re the one who told me that Ryan finally admitted to being in love with Abbie when you saw him in New York. And you already knew how Abbie felt before we even left for London.”

“Yeah, I know all of that, Schmitty,” Michael argued. “But do I really have to put two and two together? It’s not the easiest thing for me to accept right now.”

“Mike, you’re going to have to accept it some time.”

“Can’t I live in denial for a little while longer?”

Allison heaved a sigh. She waited for a few moments before answering. “Michael,” she began, “do you remember a few months ago, when you called me and told me that Hilary and Whitney were worried about Abbie moving in with you?”

“Yeah,” Michael answered slowly.

“I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d already set your mind on having her stay with you. But I actually agreed with your sisters.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was worried about Abbie living with you, too,” Allison went on. “I knew she was hurting about Ryan and you were there for her, so I figured it was likely that you’d be her rebound. I don’t really blame her. And I knew that sooner or later, she was going to realise that it’s not fair to either of you. What I was worried about was how you’d handle it when she left. Because it was going to happen. You knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be permanent. But you did it anyway.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Michael asked quietly.

“Would you have changed your mind if I did?” Allison responded.

Again, Michael didn’t answer.

“I’m just saying, you’ve been living in denial for a while,” Allison said. “Maybe it’s time to move out.”

Michael thought about what Allison was telling him. Out of all his friends and teammates, she was the one that knew him the most. Yet, Michael valued Allison’s opinion quite a bit, and he suddenly realised that had she voiced her objection to Abbie moving in with him, he would have at least had second thoughts about it. And she was right. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew that Abbie wasn’t going to stay with him forever. And that maybe it was time he at least tried to move on with his life.

“Thanks, Schmitty,” Michael suddenly said.

“For what?” Allison asked.

“For being my BFF.”

“You’re what?” Allison repeated, giggling a little.

“My ‘Best Female Friend’ and advice-giver,” Michael replied, finally smiling. “And I really am sorry for snapping at you. I knew you were just being straight with me.”

“Anytime, Phelps,” Allison said. “Can I give you another bit of advice?”

“What?”

“Go see your mom, you idiot. You have to let her know that you’re still alive.”

“I will,” he answered, chuckling. “Thanks, Schmitty.”

“Anytime,” Allison repeated.

  Debbie looked carefully at her son at the dinner table, trying to see any signs of depression. She knew that Michael had shut himself in for several days. In fact, this was the first night in two weeks he’d been to dinner at her house. She had a general idea of what happened with Abigail Dunham, but she didn’t want to pester Michael for the details.

“More potatoes, Michael?” Debbie asked, taking a serving of the stuff to place on his plate.

“No, thanks, mom, I’m okay,” he answered, pushing his food around on his plate. “And you can stop waiting for me to break down and cry. I’m fine.”

Debbie’s eyes met Hilary’s across the table, silently asking her to say something.

“Stop talking with your eyes, guys, I’m right here,” Michael continued. “If you want to ask me something, go ahead.”

“How’s everything at the house?” Debbie finally asked.

Michael shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I’ve put it up for sale, though.”

“Why?” Hilary asked.

Another shrug. “I just don’t like the neighbourhood anymore. I mean, people are hanging around it so much it’s gotten kind of annoying. I already found a place with Jeff.” Jeff Gross was Michael’s longest and best friend. Jeff had left the condo in Fell’s Point right before Olympic trials; his room was the one Abbie had moved into. Michael had called Jeff when he had made the decision to sell and they had both decided to purchase a property in Canton, another neighbourhood in Baltimore. It was more private than the Fell’s Point address, but a big part of why Michael wanted to move out was because he wanted to forget about Abbie ever being in his house. His sister seemed to read this right away; to her credit, she didn’t ask him out loud, but she did give him a look that pretty much did the asking for her.

“I don’t understand,” his mother went on. “You just suddenly decided to move without letting us know first? Are you sure you’re all right, Michael?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Michael answered. “Out of the house? What else do you want me to do?”

“Do not take that tone with me, young man. I am just trying to understand the sudden urge to move.”

Michael didn’t say anything. Just like with Allison, he knew he shouldn’t have snapped at his mother, but he couldn’t stop it in time. “I’m sorry, mom, I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well,” he said, reaching for Debbie’s hand and squeezing it. “There’s always these people outside the house, especially since London, so I thought, why not move to a different place? And you know I’ve always wanted to move back in with Jeff ever since he moved out from Fells. I’ve missed playing poker with him.”

Pacified, Debbie squeezed Michael’s hand back. “All right, Michael, if that’s what you really want,” she said. “But in the future I’d appreciate if you let me know these kinds of things before you do them. At least give me a heads-up.” Michael nodded as his mother got up to bring out the cake he had brought for dessert.

After dinner, Michael walked Hilary to her car in silence, but he could tell that she was itching to ask him about the move. “So, is it really just because of the nosies outside your house?” she asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

“No,” Michael said simply.

“And I’m guessing it’s not just because Jeff found a great place and you two wanting to be roommates again?” Hilary went on. Michael didn’t even have to answer this time, before Hilary let out a frustrated sigh. “Michael, you can’t do this. You can’t make a drastic change like this just because of a girl.”

“I’m not,” Michael replied. “She’s a big part of it, yes, but why shouldn’t I want a change?”

“Remember what I asked you back then? What if she doesn’t choose you?” Hilary crossed her arms and looked at her brother. “You said you were okay with that. You said you would be fine. Shutting yourself in and then selling your home does not spell ‘fine’, Michael.”

Michael took a deep breath. “I know what I said, Hil,” he answered. “And I wasn’t fine for a while. But at least I’m starting to be. Selling the condo will be helpful, trust me.”

Hilary recognized the determined look on Michael’s face. He had the same one when they had the discussion about Abbie moving in with him in the first place. “If you’re sure, Mike,” she said. “If this is how you want to handle it, then I won’t try to stop you.”

“Thank you.” Michael wrapped his arms around his sister and gave her a big hug. “And it’s not like I’m running away to Nepal to be a monk or something. I’m just moving across town. You and mom should really chill.”

With a final roll of her eyes, Hillary hugged Michael and then got into her car to go home. Once she was gone, Michael pulled out his phone and texted Allison.

“I’m moving to Nepal to become a monk. Want to come with?”

The reply came in a few seconds later. “Can a girl be monk? But, no, thanks, I got to think about Rio.”

Michael let out a hearty laugh before typing in his reply. “OK, not really moving to Nepal, but I am selling the Fell’s condo.”

Just as he predicted, his phone started ringing a couple of seconds after he sent the text.