Chapter 49 - If only...

"Green? Orange? Neon poke-a-dot?"

She giggled, "You'll just have wait and see." She rezipped her bookbag and closed her locker. Then, turned and planted a teasing kiss on those puppy-dog-pouting lips. "And I thought you liked surprises, Kiriakis."

"Come on, Chloe," coaxed those dimples, "Jase and Shawn know what colors their dates are gonna wear."

She brushed back that mischievous lock of blond-streaked hair and smiled sweetly. "And that's supposed to convince me how?"

"How else can a guy pick out the corsage?"

She gave a dainty shrug. "Same way we pick out the boutonniere?"

He gave the classic look of Kiriakis sarcasm. "Let me save you some trouble. Italian suits don't come in neon poke-a-dot."

She laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey, guys," said a somewhat flat, disheartened voice.

After exchanging a quick look with her boyfriend, Chloe greeted, "Hey, Shawn."

"Hey, bro," added Philip, "You alright, man?"

Shawn gave a dismissive shrug. "How's it hanging with you guys?"

Philip rolled his eyes in frustration at Chloe, who only smirked with her invisible halo. "Hey," Phil said, nudging his buddy in the ribs, "Did Belle happen to mention what my girlfriend would be wearing for the night of the dance?"

Confused, Shawn replied, "Naw, man. All I got from her was 'powder with a hint of fuchsia.' What the heck does that mean?"

"Damned, if I know," grumbled Phil and collided knuckles with his buddy in farewell, before Shawn plodded unenthusiastically through the crowd toward class. Philip turned back to his beloved but exasperatingly tightlipped girlfriend, "But at least, he got something. Some chromatic designation."

Chloe cocked an impressed brow, "My my my," and wound her arms around his neck, "SAT words," her voice dropped an octave, "You don't know what it does to me, when you say such things."

"Oh, yeah?" grinned Phil, while his hands unconsciously crept to the small of her back.

"Mmm-hmm…" She let her cheek glide over his, so that she could nuzzle his ear.

"You're trying to distract me, aren't you?"

"Mmm-hmm…" she smiled, as she breathed in his fresh scented cologne.

He chuckled. Women. This wily she-devil in particular. "SAT words, huh? So," he said huskily into her ear, "Care to join me in some illicit activities later?"

"Philip!" she laughed. She gave him peck on the lips, just as the first bell sounded. "Maybe."

Meanwhile, Mimi rushed to her locker. Man, final couple of weeks of school and she still couldn't seem to get out of bed on time in the morning. She threw some books into her bag and hoped to God they had something to do with her first three period classes. After giving her hair some random fingercombs, she slammed her locker shut.

"Oh, Jasey!"

Mimi paused in mid-stride and turned to the origin of those high-pitched squeals. Across the hall gathered the jovial jocks, surrounded by their usual fawning paparazzi. Mimi let out a long breath, as Little Mermaid pressed her significant endowments against Jason, who continued to rave about last night's NFL pre-season game. Whatever, thought Mimi, practically gnashing her teeth. She didn't have time for this. She turned and started the incensed march toward Chemistry.

"Hey, Meems! Wait up!"

A second later, Jason jogged up alongside her and tossed an easy arm over her stiff shoulders. "Slept in this morning, eh, Lady Beatrice?" Flying high with the morning's animated grunts and howls, he flashed a carefree smile. "I was wondering where you were. Lemme walk you to class."

She cocked a brow, jealousy seeping out of her pores. While insecurity cried beneath. "Your class is like at the other end of school. You're gonna be late."

He seemed to deliberate for a moment, before he shrugged. Then grabbed her around her middle and hefted a shocked Mimi over his shoulder. "Then, we'd better run!"

Little Mermaid and the other jock-groupies watched, as hottie Jason Welles trotted down the hall with a now laughing Mimi Lockhart. So the rumors were true… A moment ago, the Salem High stud had abruptly broke off in mid-conversation, muttering a "see you dudes later." And ran after one of the school's relative nobodies. One girl named Cynthia glared after clueless Mimi's retreating figure, which by cheerleading standards could stand to lose several dress sizes. What the hell did he see in her anyway?

"Sick, isn't it?" hissed a nasally sneer, breaking the silent vigil of envy.

The girls turned to face Jan Spears, who'd appeared behind them.

"What do you say, girls?" dared Jan with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Are you going to let nosy, pathetic Mimi get away with this?"

"Hmm, what do you think of this one?"

Mimi squinted at the refrigerated display behind the glass. "Philip? Pink carnation?" Her face scrunched, as she looked back at her friend. "What's wrong with this picture?"

Chloe chuckled, "No, the one next to it."

"Ooo," commented Mimi at the cool white rose boutonniere, "Much better. Now, what if the boy goes the smooth yet earthy route like last year?"

"Black Armani jacket and trousers, white silk shirt and tie," listed Chloe, as she admired the other flowers. This quaint little florist shop in Salem Place was a great find.

"Wow," said Mimi, "Philip told you all that?"

Her friend smiled, "Henderson."

"Gotcha," grinned Mimi and pointed at another arrangement on the next shelf. "Jason?"

"Hmm, that would match both his charcoal and your gold…" Her friend considered the pair of elegant white orchids with a kiss of yellow. On a macho jock. "But let's be kind. How about a compromise?" She pointed to a trio of their less conspicuous five-petal cousins.

"Hey, they're not bad either," Mimi conceded, "I think we have a winner."

After they placed orders with the florist, the girls stepped back into the cooling late afternoon air. "That was it," stated a chipper Mimi. She couldn't remember, when things were so… right. "We're pretty much set for the big night."

"You think, Belle will mind that we went boutonniere-shopping without her?"

Mimi gave a carefree shrug. "She'll just drag us back there for Shawn's, when she gets back tomorrow." The girls stopped by a novelty stand along the way to try on sunglasses. "What do you think?"

Pursing her lips, Chloe shook her head at the rhinestone-speckled pair of shades. "Which school do you think Belle will choose?" Absently, she picked up a chrome racer style pair then selected another.

"Sounds like California's in the lead." Mimi looked up and laughed at Chloe in Yoko Ono purple rounds. Why did people who wore them always look stoned?

Chloe replaced the glasses. "Yeah. She really seemed to like UCLA. But then there's Shawn."

Mimi blew away an impish lock of hair, so she could see. "Yeah. It's gonna be a tough call."

"How about you and Jason?" When Mimi only shrugged, Chloe added, "You in New York and now him unofficially in Indiana. I mean, have you guys talked about it?"

Finished tinkering with accessories that she had no real intention of buying, Mimi resumed walking down the mosaic pathway. Chloe took the hint and followed. "Not really," explained Mimi, "I mean, what's there to talk about? I mean, we just started… dating, I guess. And college doesn't start until August." She gave another nonchalant shrug, a mannerism that she unknowingly had picked up from the man in question. "We'll just see how it goes. One day at a time, you know?"

"Yeah," Chloe smiled softly, "I know." They neared the Java Café, when Chloe spotted a bolded sign in front of a nearby store. "Hey, Victoria's Secret is having a sale. Wanna check it out?"

Deliberately, Mimi's brows rose. "Looking for anything in particular?"

Chloe mimicked her friend's earlier shrug. And flashed a flushed smile.

Mimi rolled her insinuating eyes and prepared to extend her reporter antennae, when her eyes caught something over Chloe's shoulder. Her heart twinged. "Um, how about I meet you inside? There's one more thing I gotta check on."

Chloe tilted her head in mild confusion. "I could wait and come with you, if you'd like. No biggie."

"That's ok," assured Mimi, "You go ahead and start looking. But you'd better wait for me, before you try stuff on. So, I can tell you what'll make Phil's eyes pop out of their sockets."

Chloe giggled, "He's not a cartoon, you know. Ok, ok. See you later." With that, she wandered into the pink-laden store.

Mimi turned and slowly continued down the path. The antique-style outdoor lamps flickered then glowed, as the sun set down upon the far-off horizon. Salem Place was still bustling. Summer was approaching, which meant vacations, swimsuits, and watermelon. Students would revel in two-and-a-half months of freedom, while some thought of barbeques, beaches, and long evening walks among the twinkling posteriors of lightning bugs. For most people, summer was all about fun.

Mimi slowed in her step. But for the unfortunate others, summer only meant that one had less chance of hypothermia and could concentrate on the other basics. Like food and a safe place to sleep. To the inattentive eye or unacknowledging heart, she walked toward what appeared to be a heap of dirty rags laid out across a bench. How easily it was for some people to avert their eyes. And dismiss a fellow human being.

Remembering, Mimi veered back on the path. She'd lived on the streets for nearly three months. One moment her family had had a home. The next they'd found themselves in a shanty on the outskirts of Salem. Devastated and ashamed, Mimi had told no one - not even Belle. Especially not Belle. She'd figured that it'd have been one more thing that made Belle Black perfect and Mimi Lockhart far from it. So, Mimi had snuck early to school every morning to shower. She'd claimed that she'd already eaten or would wait to go home, when people wanted to go to the Pub or .Com or here, Salem Place, for a bite to eat. She'd lied to her closest friends to keep her hell a secret.

Mimi took her place in line, numbly registering, while strangers ordered all manner of coffee concoctions. She'd never forget those frightening months on the street.

"Ham and cheese on a whole wheat bagel. Toasted," Mimi told the woman behind the counter, when her turn came, "And a lemonade." Meticulously, Mimi counted out the bills and change and handed the money to the cashier. She left the Java Café with her purchase and retraced her steps. Finally, she stopped before the bench.

Beneath the threadbare rags and accumulated dirt was a woman probably in her late forties. Sleeping. Perhaps dreaming of a bed and a roof over it. Perhaps dreaming of her home. Mimi gently tucked the sandwich and drink in the crook of the woman's arm.

Mimi would never forget those frightening months on the street. She'd also never forget the people who'd helped her along the way. She quietly stepped away and walked back toward Vicky's.

Funny, how differently she saw the world now. How much more she appreciated the things, which most people took for granted. Even now, months after moving into her new home, she'd drag herself into the house after a long school day and plop on the sofa to take a break and sniff the aromas wafting from the kitchen, before she dragged herself upstairs to her room, haphazardly depositing her bag and books as she went. And then at odd moments, like when she sat down at the dinner table for supper or when she snuggled into bed, she realized how lucky she was. She had a home and people whom she could always depend on.

Realization and gratitude for one's blessings, no matter how big or small. That was one of the benefits of hardship. The most important one.

And now she was getting ready for her last high school dance. The dance of all dances. It still felt like a dream. Mrs. Horton and her mother were putting the finishing touches on her gown. Her best friends, Belle and Chloe, had helped her pick out the perfect accessories. And she'd just ordered the boutonniere for her date. Her date. She smiled, as she walked toward Victoria's Secret. She was going to the Last Blast with Jason Welles. One of Salem High's star athletes and definitely its best kept secret. Mimi allowed herself a purely gleeful smile. It was definitely going to be a night she'd never forget-

"…Mimi's such a loser…"

She stopped dead in her tracks. And looked about. She'd heard her name. She swore it.

A burst of giggles came from around the rear corner. Frowning, Mimi cautiously moved toward the jabbering stream of voices and listened.

"…Probably thinks she's all that now, cuz she's going to the dance with Jason."

Heather. Mimi's mental database matched the voice with a name. Heather Steingold. Mimi pressed herself against the brick wall to remain undetected.

Another girl laughed. Cynthia. "She probably thinks Jase actually likes her or something."

"Yeah," cackled another girl, "When all he wants is to bang her. Hey, maybe pathetic Mimi will actually be awake this time."

Mimi's fists tightened. Why those… She pushed herself upright and prepared to charge in, when another voice entered.

"Maybe dear old Jason might even throw in some poetry for the hell of it."

Mimi froze. Jan.

"I remember those days. When he really wanted to get some, he'd say some pretty lines to me and try to pass it off, like he wrote it or something," Jan scoffed, "I find out later that the idiot got it off the internet. WWW.things-to-say-when-you-want-some-head.com. Wanna bet Mimi fell for it? Hook, line, and sinker?"

Mimi covered her mouth in horror. No. It couldn't be.

The girls laughed and laughed. "Yeah, stupid homeless Mimi probably thinks Jason actually likes her or something. Like, hello? Come on. Why?"

Her knees weak, Mimi backed away. Oh, God. What if it were true? Walking her home… Those notes in her locker… She'd thought… she'd believed that…

"There you are!"

Mimi jumped. Shaken, she turned to face her friend.

"I've been looking all over for you," Chloe said, "I have some stuff on hold…" Her eyes narrowed, as Chloe took in Mimi's pallor. "Hey, are you alright?" Instinctively, she reached out in concern for her friend.

"Hello, ladies!"

Mimi jumped a second time. And backed away in retreat. In defense. Just like that. She was nothing again.

Coming from a Henderson-recommended florist shop, Philip, Shawn, and Jason approached in their usual laidback swagger toward the girls, who stood before the entrance of Victoria's Secret.

Philip reached Chloe first and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, beautiful. Uh…" he stuttered and took a meaningful look toward the store's front display of fishnet and garters, "Shopping? Mind some company?"

Chloe only shook her head and gave the beginnings of an amused smile. "You're hopeless." Then, she remembered and turned back to her friend.

But Mimi looked down at the ground. Avoiding all eye contact. Why? Why had she let herself believe that he actually liked her. That he thought she was special. That anyone thought she was special.

"Hey, Meems," Jason smiled, as he walked up to her. He reached over to tuck that baby-soft chestnut hair behind her ear. And was surprised when she skittered away. "Hey," he frowned, "You ok?"

Chloe took a step toward her, when Mimi finally looked up and shot her tear-filled eyes at him. "You… you… you pig!" she screamed, her voice cracking in heartache, and pushed him away.

Stunned and cemented where they stood, her friends could only watch, as Mimi ran sobbing out of the mall.

Jason's mouth was agape and he looked to his friends in confusion. "What happened? What'd I do?"

"She was just fine a minute ago," murmured Chloe, intuitively moving to go after her. "We picked out flowers and everything and she was fine. Something must've happened… like in the last fifteen minutes that I left her alone."

"What the hell…" Jason rubbed a hand over his face. Things had been going so well this past week. Was this dating… this relationship thing supposed to be this tumultuous and unpredictable? He looked up at Shawn, Philip, and Chloe. Oh, fuck, he inwardly groaned. He and Mimi were doomed.

"Well?"

Jason looked over the steeple of his fingers. "What?" he said to Chloe, who now stood in front of him.

Chloe was tempted to throw up her hands. "Do you want her or not?"

"What?" repeated six feet two inches of bewilderment, obviously not fluent in feminese.

"Don't just stand there," instructed Chloe and gestured in the direction Mimi had fled, "Go after her, you big oaf."

"But…" He gave a look of entreaty to his testosterone comrades.

Equally mystified, Shawn and Philip could only give helpless shrugs and deferred to the female expert by default.

Jason looked back to Chloe, who pointed again toward the mall exit.

"Oh, shit," he grumbled. And jetted off after Mimi.

His friends watched him go. "Whoa," exclaimed Shawn, "What's up with them?"

"Damn," echoed Philip and shook his head.

"Maybe it's some misunderstanding," theorized Chloe. "Probably."

"Well, they'll figure it out, right?"

"Hopefully," said Shawn softly. Hopefully.

"Hey," interjected Philip, when his girl began to wander off, "Where're you going?"

"Home."

"But… I thought we were going shopping." Her boyfriend hitched a hopeful thumb back at the pretty lingerie shop.

"Philip…"

"20% off bras and panties. One day sale," he quoted the banner from memory.

Amused and exasperated, Chloe shook her head. She hooked her one arm with Philip's and then her other with Shawn's and dragged them away.

Jan stepped out from behind the corner. And leered. Mission accomplished.

She was so cold. But the tears nonetheless scorched her cheeks. Mimi hugged herself tightly against the increasing gusts of wind, as she stumbled along the cement walk. Home. That's where her feet were taking her. Home. Where she'd be taken care of. Where she'd be loved. No matter what she did. No matter how unworthy she was.

He'd been playing her the whole time, she sobbed again. When she'd been dreaming up hearts and strings, Jason had seen her as another conquest. Nothing more. Nothing more than a stupid, gullible… He'd made her believe that he was different. That he wrote those beautiful things. About her.

Oh, how could she have been so blind? she agonized.

She'd only… she just wanted so much to have what everyone else had… to know what it was like… Was it really so much… so wrong… to dream?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Apparently, it was.

She drew in a breath in an attempt to calm herself. When she got home, she'd just creep upstairs to her room, so that she could wail in private. Oh, how could she have been so stupid? Oh, God, how would she ever show her face in school again? They'd laugh. Everyone would point and laugh at stupid, easy Mimi Lockhart. Pathetic Mimi actually thought that Jason Welles liked her.

Oh, how could she have been so stupid?

"Mimi! Wait!"

"Oh, God," she gasped and ran. She didn't have to look behind her to know who it was. She couldn't take this. Him rubbing it in. Or worse, him laying on another convincing lie, so that she'd doubt herself even more. She just couldn't take any more. So, she ran and abruptly cut into the park.

"Damn it, Mimi! Would you just… Damn it!" Jason called out from behind her over the wind.

She could hear his steps pounding after her. Frantic, she only ran faster through the thickening dark. The air had cooled but grown heavy with the ominous nimbus overhead. But she didn't think about the imminent rain. She had to get home. She just had to get home.

But only seconds later, clamps of iron came around her middle, heaved her up off the floor. She began screaming.

"Jesus!" He cursed. The last thing he needed was people, i.e., cops, to come running, after hearing the screams and seeing him hold her like this. He quickly changed his grip, so that she was set back down on her feet but his hands clutched her shoulders. "Mimi! Would you just stop and listen to me?"

"Leave me alone!" she screeched, flailing and scratching. "Let me go!"

"Damn it!" he cursed again, when her nails scored his neck, "This is fucking crazy!" He changed his grip again, securing her hands to her sides. "Mimi, quit it! I swear, I'll let you go, as soon as you calm down and tell me what the hell's going on."

"Just leave me alone, you pig!" she cried, the tears flooding again.

He took another deep breath and resisted shaking the answer out of her. "Look, what happened? We were fine in school. At least, that's what I thought. What the hell happened since then?"

"Oh, don't you dare play dumb with me!" she managed through the tears, as the first signs of anger over the hurt lighted in her eyes.

Low rolling thunder reverberated not too far away.

He gawked in frustration. "What… what're you talking about?"

"Game's over, ok?" she shouted. She'd ceased to struggle but now her hands fisted at her sides. But her lip still trembled. "And I'm through being some… some… some idiot thing you… you… play with, so you can j-joke about me to your friends."

His jaw still hung agape. "What?" He'd rub his temples at the impending headache, if he could take a chance of letting her go. The park was not the safest place to be at night. And right now she was not exactly of sane mind. His green eyes closed, trying to make sense of what she was saying. "I don't know where you got this idea from…" He barely knew what the idea was. "But I have not been going around talking about you. To anyone, ok? I swear. Ask Phil and Shawn."

"Oh," she growled, "I can't believe this. I'm in Drama Club, remember? I know an act, when I see one."

He made a sound of helpless frustration. "What? Are we speaking the same language here?" His temples began to throb. This just seemed insane. "What're you talking about? What did people tell you?"

"You really thought I wouldn't find out?" she glared at him, "Funny, huh, how your so-called journal so conveniently was there for me to find? You probably pulled this on a lot of girls, right? Oldest trick in the book, right? Copy down some poetry off the internet, leave it in some girl's locker, and wait for her to come swooning."

"What?" His voice came out a whisper, for he scarcely knew he'd uttered it. The first fat drops of water fell from the opaque sky. Nevertheless, his eyes were so wide. His mouth opened but was unable to speak. He looked into those big brown eyes and saw the condemnation. She believed it. She actually believed it. After he'd let her see what he'd written. After he'd allowed her a glimmer of his soul.

He felt it then. For the first time in his life. He knew how it felt to have his heart fall to the pit of his stomach. How it felt to be betrayed. His grip loosened, his hands fell away, his jaw, his knees, his head felt numb. He felt ill. "Someone…" he said so softly, "Someone k-knew about my…" He took a shaky step backward. "Someone told you I didn't…" Another step. In retreat. "And you believed them?" His voice cracked.

Mimi squinted through the scattered rain and watched, as his usually tanned and glistening complexion blanched. And finally since this heartbreaking episode began, a sliver of uncertainty and hope crept up her spine. "Jan-"

"Jan?!" he croaked in alarm, "You believed Jan over me?" Now, he did bring his hands to his achy temples, while he shook his head. And took another step away. The wet soaking through his shirt to his spirit. "You believed her over me?"

Mimi took in that wide-eyed expression of devastation. And just like that, realization came down upon her like an avalanche. "Oh, my God," she managed, her hands flying to her mouth, "Jason…"

"Come on, dude," grinned Phil, "I know you could get your folks to go with it."

"Uh, let me get this straight," Shawn said, counting off on his fingers, "Me, Belle, you, Chloe, Jase, and Mimi spend our summer vacation. On an island. By ourselves. Us. A bunch of teenagers in swim trunks and suits. Without any adult supervision." With his brows high, he looked at Chloe and then at his buddy Phil. "You gotta be kidding. You remember my parents, right? Lovey-dovey to the point of cavities but mighty scary, if you cross the line? Both have at one time or another carried a loaded firearm? Us? An island? This summer? In our dreams, man."

Walking companionably between them, Chloe sighed, "I don't think that Craig and Nancy are going to be too happy about this either. My mother already randomly breaks out in tears, when someone mentions college or New York. I don't think she's going to let me out of the house for the summer, much less let me go to some private island with you."

"Hey," Philip said, the gears in his Kiriakis head scheming wildly, "We could tell them it's like… educational. Yeah! We're gonna learn some important life skills."

"I don't think," commented Shawn with a smart-alecky smirk, "Bonfires and chicken-fights are gonna qualify as life skills in the Wesley rulebook."

"Hey, blue waters, white sandy beaches, palm trees… that's like… nature, right?" figured Phil, "We could scuba dive, pick our own coconuts, set things on fire. See? We're gonna learn to appreciate this great planet by…" He joggled his head a bit for the proper way to put it. Then, flashed a wicked gleam. "By partying like we've never partied before in all of nature's splendor."

His friends burst out laughing. "Sure, man. Go to your dad with that. I'm sure he'd be totally fly with it."

"Oh ye of little faith," sighed Philip melodramatically and smiled, "For your information, I could get my dad to go along with it. My leverage? I worked my ass off and got into an Ivy just like he wanted." He swung an arm over Chloe's shoulders. "Now, his sweet little boy deserves a break, before he dutifully goes off to Princeton to make the Kiriakis name proud. Have a violin play in the background. Maybe a half-time show with Chloe-wait. That's for me." He chuckled, when his girlfriend elbowed him in the side. "I bet, Belle could make it. Picture it, buddy. You, your girl, and plenty of beach and surf for all us."

Shawn chuckled, "Right…" unconvinced, "Later, guys." He waved to his friends, before he turned into the quaint walkway up to his house. Spending the summer on a private Mediterranean island, he mused. Not too shabby. Seeing Belle in a bikini for most of the day, every day. Definitely not too shabby. He chuckled and shook his head. Phil and his eternal plots. Princeton business school was definitely for him. Who knows? Maybe his buddy could actually convince Victor Kiriakis to let Philip take a bunch of his friends to that island. If anyone could pull it off, it was Phil.

Shawn let himself into the house, just as the raindrops began to fall. "Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad! I'm home!" he announced out of habit, before he ran up the stairs to his room without waiting for a reply. He dumped his gear on the floor next to his bed. He had some math and reading left over from study hall. In no real rush, he ambled over to his stereo and filled his room with classic rock. His steps and sway matched naturally with the music's rhythm. He walked over to his bed and stretched out across it. His feet twitched to the beat.

Yeah. That'd be pretty cool. Crystal blue water, sandy white beaches, palm trees…

His eyes shifted to the baby palm tree standing slightly slanted atop his desk. Under its fat teeny umbrella-like leaves sat a miniature folding chair and shade parasol. "With love from sunny CA" was etched curvedly on the clay rim of its pot.

Shawn sighed and looked back up at the ceiling.

"Oh, Jason…" Mimi murmured, as the shame came rushing in with the gales.

He held up a hand. For silence. In defense. And took another step away. They stood now several feet apart, but it could've been miles. He ran his hands through his hair. And felt himself weaken, when he saw her lips tremble. The raindrops glided down her face like tears. He closed his eyes, as he was awash with unidentifiable feelings. Somewhere along the way, this thing… this chance with Mimi had grown into something different than the quick and easy flings he'd always enjoyed. Maybe it was all the Shakespeare. Maybe it was too much TV. Maybe it was when he saw how happy his other friends were.

He shook his head in self-pity. How had he convinced himself that they could actually make a go of it? That maybe, just maybe, they could get an inkling of what Philip and Chloe and Shawn and Belle shared? How was that possible, when Jason Welles was in the equation?

"Mimi," he said finally, no longer looking at her, "Maybe we shouldn't go to the dance together." When he got no response, he kept his eyes downcast and prepared to walk away, to go back to the way he was before. It was safer that way.

He stopped, when he heard her sob. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please, don't cry," he heard himself say. Plead.

She hiccupped, so completely confused and overwhelmed by how all of this got so complicated and sad. "T-Then, you really don't like me?" she asked. She had to.

He let out a pent-up breath and found it did little to relieve the pressure in his brain and chest. "We're gonna end up hurt, Meems." His voice softened on the last syllable. Her name.

She sniffed, gathering what remnants she had of her courage. "Maybe," she admitted, as she stared at his back, "Maybe because we'd up mattering to each other."

His shoulders slumped. "What do you wanna do, Meems? What do you want me to do?"

Her eyes filled and she spoke truthfully and sadly, "I don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to believe."

"Damn it," he said, as he spun on his heels, as if ready to pounce, "For once, would you just… just believe in me? For once, Goddamnit? Not some freaking rumor or crap from a lying skeez? Damn it," he said again, his emotions overriding all else, "Just you and me. What does your gut tell you, when it's just you and me?" He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to find the words. But his emotions were too much for him. "Freak, you read my journal for Christ's sake! Phil, Shawn, nobody's seen the inside of my journal. Then, you take the word of Jan - Jan of all people - over me? Damn it, Mimi!" He ran both hands through his damp hair.

Too damn late, his heart told him. He was already hurt. He closed his eyes, feeling the precipitation strike his face. Then, a hesitant hand took his. He opened his eyes to find hers in the dim lamplight.

"I'm s-sorry," she said tremulously, "I should've believed you."

He closed his eyes again, but could not find the strength to pull back his hand.

She looked up at his face, its lights and shadows casted devastatingly by the flickers of lightning. She realized how long his bones were. How thick his lashes. And how torn he looked at this moment. Exactly like the poet he was. "I'd really like to get to know you, Jason," she said, no longer taking notice of the rain, "W-Would you give me another chance?"

His eyes opened and met hers.

Overhead, the sky opened, as the rain grew into a storm.

Philip wrung out the hem of his shirt, before he stepped into the house. Essentially, he was drenched from head to toe. He grinned. But it'd been worth it. He and Chloe had chased each other around in the rain. She'd started it, of course. As they'd neared her house, he pulled her under a huge sycamore to make out. She'd giggled. Then, tickled him and bolted. The rain was coming down full force by then. But they didn't care. They were young and blissfully in love.

He ran a hand over his dripping hair. Well, he'd better shower and clean up. He was supposed to meet with Sebastian and Henderson to iron out the details for the big night. Philip squished and somewhat slid his way through the marble foyer. He wanted their special night to be perfect. Their friends would understand, if he and Chloe couldn't spend the whole night with them. It was his and Chloe's anniversary, after all.

Man, he wondered what she was going to wear.

"Go on now, you little pip-squeak," said a somewhat muffled woman's voice, her tone condescending, spiked with careless acrimony. "Your dad should be laying around somewhere. Why don't you go on and find him, while Nicole has... what does your daddy call it? Oh, yeah. Candy."

Philip came to an abrupt halt, when he saw little Will step from one of the drawing rooms. "Hey, buddy," he managed, barely containing the instant anger, "Looking for your dad, huh?"

Will sadly nodded.

"Why don't you go up to your room and choose a good bedtime story? I'll get your dad for you, ok?"

His young nephew hesitated at first, before he nodded. Slowly and as quietly as mouse, Will climbed up the steps toward his room.

When the boy made it out of sight, Philip set his jaw and marched into the drawing room. And found his sister-in-law setting down the crystal decanter. That's it, steamed Philip. This was intolerable. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Nicole jumped, nearly spilling her drink. "Christ, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"If you had a heart to attack, that is. What the hell were you saying to Will?" When she only smiled coyly and sipped her drink, he had the urge to snatch up the tumbler and shatter it into the fireplace. "And you're drinking in front of him?"

"Oh, please." Nicole rolled her eyes. "Loosen up, Philip. You know for a teenager, you're mighty uptight. Besides, it's not like the kid knows anything. So, get the soapbox out of your butt, ok?"

"Why, you-"

"Pardon the interruption," interjected Henderson at the door, "Master Philip, I believe you are scheduled to discuss some travel arrangements with Sebastian."

Still seething, Philip held up an impatient index finger. "Hold on, Hender-"

"Go on now, Philip," instructed the servant, "Wash up and meet Sebastian in the rear kitchens."

The boy blinked. Henderson rarely called him by just his first name. But as he looked into the eyes of the nanny of his childhood and often his surrogate father, those aging eyes were still patient and infinitely kind. "Ok," Philip relented. He glared once more at Nicole, before he walked out of the room.

Nicole gave her usual smirk and sauntered back over to the bar.

"A word, Mrs. Roberts?"

She rolled her eyes, as she always did, when subjected to the presence of her inferiors in station. They reminded her too much of the life she'd vowed to escape. "Don't you have something to polish or dustbust, old man?"

"Leave the children be."

"What?" she scoffed, surprised enough to turn and acknowledge the servant's comment. Or rather, order.

"Whatever crimes were committed against you, you have my sympathies," the servant's voice typically so placid and neutral sharpened, "However, you will not commit those crimes on the children of this house."

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to, huh?" With menace, she stalked over to him. "I can have you canned, before your tired, wrinkled British ass could say 'tea time.' You think," she punctuated with a finger-jab to his perfectly starched chest, "I give a rat's ass what you say?"

"And do you, Mrs. Roberts," his brow cocked, his eyes gleamed, but his voice remained as soft as it always was. Only infinitely chilling, "Honestly think that I throughout all my years of devotion to Mr. Kiriakis and his household have not learned a thing or two about protecting my family? By any means necessary." His tone deadened and was laced with ice. "Leave the children be."

Hidden from view beside the doorway, Philip's jaw had dropped open in shock. And amazement.

"…We didn't get back 'til really late," chirped Belle the next morning in school, "My mom and I strolled around the harbor and had dinner at a waterside café. Oh, guys, it was so great."

Chloe and Mimi smiled, happy for their friend. "So… how about the schools? What'd you think?"

"They were really nice, too. Illinois-Chicago's like a lot busier than Ann Arbor. The people were really nice. So were the campuses. The dorms are kinda small though. Tons to do around the city, though."

"But no beach?" inserted Chloe, watching her friend's expression.

"No," replied Belle wistfully, "No beaches… But the harbor was nice."

"Nice, huh?" Mimi exchanged a knowing look with Chloe, "You've said 'nice' for like everything. So, which school is it gonna be?"

Belle wrung her hands and looked from one friend to another. "I-"

"Morning, ladies!" Shawn and Philip made their way through the masses of students to the three girls.

"Hey," said Shawn softly, before he greeted his girlfriend with a hug, "How was your trip?"

"It was really nice," answered Belle, smoothing out his t-shirt across his broad frame, "My mom and I didn't get back until late last night. That's why I didn't get a chance to call."

"I understand," Shawn reassured. Then, he took a breath and worked up a smile. "So? What was it like? Have you decided where you wanna go?"

Nervously, Belle looked from those chocolate brown eyes to the expectant eyes of her friends and back to Shawn's again. "I-I don't really know yet. I think I'm gonna talk about it with my family first, you know? I mean, they're all really good schools."

Except only one is here in Salem, her friends thought simultaneously.

The stretch of silence was broken, when hearty male laughter erupted across the hall. Mimi looked over. The jocks were joking and shoving each other around as usual. And the female drapery was just as bubble-headed and clingy as usual. Jason grinned, as his teammates imitated their favorite target teachers. And as usual, Little Mermaid practically velcroed herself against Jason and batted her lashes. Jason, seemingly oblivious, laughed as one boy humped a locker.

Mimi took a breath, gathered up her courage, and walked toward the rambunctious group. Her friends, who had a moment before resumed talk about their respective schools, stopped all conversation and watched the scene unfold.

Mimi finally made it a couple of feet up to him. Little Mermaid was still crooning over every sound and move he made. Mimi took another breath, cleared her throat, and said, "Hi, Jason."

He turned, as his features settled down from the laughter. He gave a small smile. "Hey, Meems." Without knowing it, Jason extracted himself from his fawning appendage and came to stand somewhat uncertainly before her. He still hadn't completely recovered from yesterday's emotional roller coaster. He'd walked her home and they'd talked - really talked - the whole way there.

They'd tried to figure out how all this confusion came about in the first place.

"How the hell did Jan find out about my journal?" he'd wondered aloud.

"Well, she only mentioned poetry and you getting it off the internet and trying it on her," Mimi had explained.

Jason had scoffed, "Yeah, right. I left out one of my drafts once, just to see what she'd say. She said, 'What's this chicken scratch?' and almost tossed it in the trash, before I stopped her. So, I never showed her my stuff again."

"Why'd you stay with her so long?" Mimi had asked. She'd been dying to know for ages.

"I dunno," he'd shrugged. When she said nothing, silently waiting for further elaboration, he'd huffed, "God, I'm not Shawn and I'm not Phil, alright? So, take a good guess."

And again, he'd made Mimi look at him anew. She'd never guessed that he compared himself to his buddies. And found himself lacking. So, in lieu of a verbal reply, she'd simply interlaced her fingers with his and continued on toward her house.

But here they were. The next day at school. It felt like they'd started all over again. Plus, this was the first time she'd ever come over to him, while he was goofing around with his teammates.

"So," he began, "What's up?"

She kept her eyes on his, even as she felt the stares bore into her back. "Just wanted to say hi."

Ever so slightly, his shoulders relaxed. And a slow grin crept across his lips. "Hi."