Rating: PG

Summary: A conversation between Byers and Michael.

Spoilers: Nope.
 

I feel sick.

Oh God. What the fuck did I do?

It's not like I grabbed her and threw her on the bed or something. God knows I would have liked to, but I wouldn't do that to her.

What happened between dinner and my going to her room?

Why did she start hating me all of a sudden?

It's gonna be a long night.
 

ALLY:

I hate basketball. Always have. But everyone's here, and it's an excuse to have a beer, which I need sorely. And I finished the one I have, so it's time to head for the kitchen. I ask if everyone is set-Frohike and Jo are fine, Juliet and Byers brought a bottle of Merlot, which they're drinking, so they're not slumming with the rest of us, and Langly, well, it's past eight o'clock, and it's off limits for him.

In the kitchen, Kelly is making some tea. I ask her how studying is going.

She bursts into tears.

"Kelly, it's just chemistry. You'll get through it." I pat her on the shoulder. I really don't need this tonight, and I'm not feeling terribly patient right now.

She looks up at me, her eyes flooded onto her face, which was red to start with.

"Michael left," she sobbed.

"So he was with you."

"Was." She starts crying again. "I went off and him...and I didn't mean to...but I had this homework...and he wouldn't leave me alone...and I'm so freaked out about everything..."

"Whoa, hold on there, girl. Take it from the top." I pop open my beer; now I really need it.

I am such a sucker for anybody who's crying.

I close the door that separates the kitchen from the dining room; we don't need company right now.

"So what happened today? I know you said you were going over there."

She's still sniffling, hard. "Yeah."

"Did you guys have an argument?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "No. We had a great day. Michael showed me how to work on cars. And he said I did really good, and I told him it's because he's such a good teacher."

"That hardly sounds like a basis for what's happening right now."

"Then we went to dinner."

"Okay. Langly and I have had some good ones over dinner."

"No, it was a great dinner...it was so fun."

"This doesn't make sense, dear."

"Well, it doesn't make sense to me, either!" A fresh storm of tears erupts. "I don't know why I'm like this right now!"

I'm thinking this over. Did Michael get too forceful with her?

Somehow I doubt it. He's so gentle with her, it makes me cry. And she's a total control freak.

But I have to ask.

"What did he do, Kelly?"

Now she's really storming.

Shit. What the hell happened here?

I need 19-year-old romantic problems like I need a new anal orifice.

But she's sobbing her guts out, and the fact is, I like the kid.

She just better not hurt Michael, or I'll kill her.

"He...I was studying, and he showed me how to do something on Excel...he's got this really creepy habit."

"What kind of creepy habit, Kelly?"

"Well...he like comes up behind me and just wraps his arms around me. Like when I'm not expecting it at all."

"Kelly, Langly does that to me all the time. And I consider it one of his far more endearing actions."

"I don't know why, but it totally freaks me out!"

It dawns on me, the utterly clueless and brainless, that it's possible that this is a holdover from her experience with Mom's useless boy toy.

And compound that with the fact that she is the sort of person who totally needs to be in control-every second-and you've got a disaster on your hands.

I admire Kelly's drive and ambition and planning and thoroughness. But if she's in love with a guy like Michael...well, she's going to get a heavy hit of emotion in there...and that's not the most predictable quantity in the universe.

"Kelly, do you love him?" This comes out more sharply than I intended. And it's none of my business-none of this is-but she made it my business, so I'm going to ask.

Before she can answer, we're interrupted by Juliet and Byers, in search of munchables, presumably.

"Kelly? You okay?" Juliet looks alarmed.

"She and Michael had a...misunderstanding," I'm not sure this is the word for it, but it's the best I can do on short notice.

"Where's Michael?" Byers demands, knitting his auburn brows together.

"He took off." Kelly can barely talk; the words come out as a fragile choking noise.

"Do you know where?" Byers is calmly sizing up the situation, something he does with exceeding capability, except possibly where his own romantic difficulties are concerned.

Kelly shakes her head miserably.

"Ally, go be with Langly. He's turning into a basket case, and he's going to make Frohike one if you don't get back in there. I think we can deal with the young'uns here," Juliet slips an arm around Kelly. "C'mon, girl. Let's have a conversation, and get this thing sorted out." She steers Kelly back towards the dungeon. "John? Why don't you go check on Michael?"

Byers looks puzzled. "No one knows where he went."

"John, do the rational thing. Try home first." Juliet vanishes with Kelly behind the doors to the dungeon.

Byers shrugs, and says, "Should we tell Frohike?"

I shake my head. "Give Frohike a break for a change. He'll have to deal with it soon enough."

Byers smiles, a thin smile. "Yes, and right now, he's dealing with ersatz son in there. Maybe you should go give him a hand."

I groan. "I wish they'd prescribed some Valium."

"For who? You or Langly?"

"Both."
 

MICHAEL:

Would somebody please tell me what the fuck happened here?

What did I do to fuck this up so badly?

I'm such a loser. Everything I try to do, I just screw it up.

I'm the most pathetic human to ever walk on this planet. Maybe the whole fucking universe.

I can't even deal with contact lenses correctly. I started crying, and now one of them's lost in my eye.

Fuck.

I'm in the bathroom, blinking every which way to Sunday I can to try and shake the stupid thing loose, wherever it is-I think I lost it in my eye, but I don't know, better check the bed, make sure it didn't fall out there.

Why do I even bother? All I ever do is fuck everything up.

I wish we had a dog or a cat here. I really like Ally and Langly's animals. They're the only ones that don't think I suck. But the landlord's kind of down on pets here.

Where is my goddamn contact lens? I lose these, Dad's gonna kill me, and I spent most of my available cash on the 'Stang today.

And dinner.

I don't even want to think about dinner right now.

I don't want to think about anything. I'd just like to have a big hit of Demerol and pass out into oblivion.

Langly is so fucking lucky. He's probably gonna get some tomorrow.

He's also so fucking lucky because his wife doesn't turn on him after she says she loves him.

I can't find the damn lens anywhere.

I'm running my fingers over my pillow again when I hear keys in the door. Oh great. Dad is home. Probably heard all about it, and came home to chew my ass out and tell me I told you so...

I can't stand this.

"Michael?" The voice is very soft, different pitch than Dad's.

It's the prof.

What the fuck is he doing over here?

I mean, I know he's got keys and stuff, and he's been here, but Dad's not here right now, and anyway, they were just watching the b-ball game together.

So what gives?

I sure as hell don't need him to see that I've been crying. I race into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. Bad enough that Langly's seen me lose it. I lose it in front of the prof, I'm gossip fodder for the rest of my natural life.

"What?" I call out, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Are you all right?" The voice is gentle, concerned. And you can't argue with the prof's sincerity.

I want to scream, no, I'm NOT all right! I just had my heart stabbed and my guts ripped out by a girl who told me two hours before that she loved me...no, I don't think I'm all right.

So I say, "Yeah."

I can't help it. It's a guy thing. Stamped indelibly on the Y chromosome.

I come out into the kitchen, where he's still standing, wearing his overcoat-on a Saturday night, for Christ's sake. Then again, the prof is not exactly parka material.

Okay, maybe L.L. Bean.

"What can I do you for?" I'm trying real hard to be casual.

"I just came by...I understand that there was a misunderstanding that transpired between you and Kelly."

Leave it to the prof to make the understatement of the century.

"And I wanted to make certain you were okay...I think Kelly is pretty upset."

Good. That makes two of us.

I know, that's mean and bitter and harsh. But I'm suffering like my insides were seared by a blowtorch.

The prof sits down at the kitchen table and doesn't even scrape the chair on the ground. How the hell does he do that?

Obviously, he's not planning on going anywhere.

I'm really not in the mood for company, either.

"You want a beer?" I ask him.

He thinks about this, then nods, okay.

I hand him one, and pop one for myself. Kelly's not around, might as well.

We drink, just being real quiet for a while. The prof's not pushy.

"I think Kelly reacted in a way...that she really didn't anticipate." The prof says this between sips of beer.

"Yeah, well, it hurt like hell," I admit, without even realizing it.

"I was thinking...is Kelly getting any kind of assistance for dealing with the assault?"

"Nope. She talks to Juliet."

"And it helps her to be able to do that, but Juliet's not a professional counselor...more of a lay advisor in that regard. I think she should look into that."

"Kind of hard. In case you didn't notice, Kelly's not exactly rich."

"Juliet says there are places she can go and be seen for nothing, considering how little income she has. And maybe you should do the same."

"WHAT?!" Wait a minute. I'm not the one who got raped here...

There.   I said it.

"Michael, has anyone asked you how YOU feel about it?"

He's got this real gentle voice that just draws you in. He's not a shrink, but Christ, he could've been.

"Byers...I've seen enough shrinks in my time. I went through rehab, the whole thing. Don't think it did me a hell of a lot of good."

"I'm just saying, what do YOU think of all this? I mean, you are part of the equation here."

What the fuck is he talking about?

"Doesn't matter. She's the one that got hurt. I gotta look after her."

"Yes...and no."

I think Casey's word for this is 'equivocation.' I'll have to check my vocab list.

"I think you did, too."

"Well, yeah, tonight, I mean, we have this real awesome great day, and it was so nice, and then I go down to see her, and it's like, she goes all ballistic on me! Yeah, that hurts!" I take a LONG swallow of beer.

He starts peeling the label on the bottle. Never thought of the prof as having nervous habits, but then, I guess everybody's got at least one.

"You love her, don't you?"

I'm amazed at how much sympathy he can hold in that voice. I mean, he's not jabbing at me or anything like my dad would.

"Yeah. I do." For all the good it'll do.

Because she doesn't love me.

"Well...you're not just yourself anymore. You're part of the whole that's you and Kelly."

"Come again?"

"Before there was Kelly, it was just you. And now it's both of you. And you seem to be, if you'll pardon my saying so, quite 'stuck' on her."

Oh dude, you have NO idea.

"And she is on you."

Yeah, right.

Then why the hell did she do to me what she did?

This is making no sense.

"She knows what she did was wrong...she was up in the kitchen with Ally, and I'm not sure that sorry would even begin to cover what she was going through."

My ears prick up.

I actually get some satisfaction out of this.

I am terrible.

But at least she's suffering like I am.

"Juliet went to talk to Kelly...and I told Ally I would come and see how you were."

"Does my dad know this?" Oh God. Just what I need.

Prof shakes his head. "I don't think so. Langly was keeping him busy, driving him up the wall. I think he's pretty terrified about tomorrow. And Ally didn't want to say anything to him right away."

I feel a smidgen of relief.

"What do you want, Michael?"

I want this night to be over.

I want to go back to dinnertime and see if we can change it.

Nope, can't do it.

"I just want her to...I got needs, too."

"Yes, you do."

"Unfortunately, I think I was a little more...blunt than I should've been, maybe?"

"In what way?"

"Well...I went and told her I was really horny."

I expect the prof to burst out laughing, or tell me I'm a jerk, but he just pinks up a little.

It's so easy to get him embarrassed. It's almost sort of fun.

But not now.

"Hmm...I think maybe that isn't exactly the line you should have employed here." He says it almost like a whisper, but he's at least not kicking my ass for being an idiot.

No shit.

I finish my beer. "It's like, I just want her to know that sometimes I got to get taken care of, too. I mean, I try real hard to do everything she needs."

"I think I might as well break it to you now. You can't do everything she needs. And she can't do everything you need. But I agree, she should make the effort to meet yours as you do hers. And I can see both positions, because for the longest time, it was like that between Juliet and I...only I was the one who wouldn't give." He looks kind of ashamed. "I went through a lot before I started realizing how lucky I am to have a woman like Juliet in my life. And it's still hard for me. Juliet is such a giving, caring person...and I'm so tightly wound into myself."

"So what do you suggest here, prof?" I'll take it any way I can get it.

"Well...you two definitely need to talk...and maybe some professional assistance. For her, definitely, but maybe for you as well. The way I see it, there were two victims here."

I don't say anything.

"She may have been the direct recipient, but you took the hit, too, Michael."

Guess I didn't think about it like that.

"So you and the J have it pretty well worked out now?" I ask him.

He does something I don't expect.

He bursts out laughing.

After about five minutes, he finally gets calm enough to pull it together. He walks to the fridge and pulls two more beers.

Guess he's not done drinking. Might as well join him.

"You've got to be kidding...it's still a negotiation. And probably always will be. Look at Langly and Ally. True, they're happy and they love each other...but they're still feeling their way around. And they probably always will be. Just as Juliet and I will be. It's not exactly a walk in the park all the time. It isn't for anyone. I know how much your father loved Dee...and how many difficulties they had. They were on their way back when she died...and it wasn't that things were perfect, but they were making the effort. They were doing the work. That's what both of you have to do here. Do the work."

"So is it worth it?"

He grins, this big, happy smile. "Oh, yeah. Definitely."

"I hope she'll talk to me."

"Oh, I think she will." And it's not like the prof to say something he doesn't really believe is true. He'd let me down gentle, but if he didn't think Kelly'd talk to me again, he wouldn't say she would.

"So what do I do?"

"Call her in the morning. You'll both have had a chance to sleep on it. You'll be calmer. Both of you will."

"Okay."

"And I did notice her car is still here. So she has to come over." He grins kind of wickedly.

Leave it to the prof to notice the details. I'd forgotten that one.

He finishes his second beer, puts his empties on the counter. "Thanks for the beer, Michael. I'd better get out of here before your father gets home and starts giving ME the third degree as to why I'm here." He grins the evil grin again.

"He drives you nuts, too?"

"He drives everyone nuts. But he's got the best heart I've ever known. And you're lucky. You seem to have inherited that from him."

He's got to be joking.

"When I first met you, Michael, I thought you were the biggest pain in the butt I'd ever come across, and being a college professor, I come across a lot of them. I thought you were rude and obnoxious and selfish."

"Yeah, well, you know. First impressions."

"Well, sometimes I still find you rude and obnoxious...but I'm happy to say I was wrong about the selfish. You are a Frohike, after all."

"Meaning?"

"Hard to get along with at times...but always there for everyone else."

I don't think so...I don't know when I've never let anybody down.

"I told you before, you can do this, Michael. You're strong."

God, I hope so. I'm gonna need it.

"All right, I've preached at you enough. I'm leaving. I need to get Juliet and get on home." He slips his coat on. "Call me if you need an ear."

"Thanks."

The prof is a lot cooler than I thought.
 

Dad comes home not long after the prof bails out. Fortunately, I've gotten calmed down enough to go channel surfing. I'm sitting on the sofa in my sweats, trying to fix on something decent.

You'd think with over 5,000 channels available, we'd be able to find something.

"Stop here," Dad tells me.

"What's this?"

"It's 'It Happened One Night,' and it's a classic. Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert."

"What kind of flick?"

"Romantic comedy."

Figures.

My dad is such a mush head.

Guess I take after him.

END OF PART 56