Back to You

“Honey?”

Lauren dropped her hands from her face and turned toward her bedroom doorway. “Hi Dad.”

“You doing okay?” he asked, sending a quick glance in Michael’s direction.

“I’m hanging in there,” she said as she sat up.

Her father nodded, lingering in the doorway for a second. “Do you need more tissues?”

“No, I’m good, Dad, thanks.”

He nodded again, looking around the room, his eyes landing on Michael one last time before he turned. When they finally heard the muffled sounds of him trudging down the stairs, Michael turned to look at her. His eyes dropped to the bed, taking in the three boxes of tissues that surrounded Lauren.

“More tissues?” Michael deadpa

Lauren shrugged, fluffing her pillow up against the headboard before she leaned back against it. “That was just him making sure the door was open.”

“Well shit, the man should give me a little credit, don’t you think? You’re a walking science experiment right now. As if I’d actually touch you.”

Lauren grabbed the pillow next to her and threw it half-heartedly at him, missing by several feet. “Did you come here to make me more miserable than I already am?”

Michael laughed, walking toward his jacket on the other side of the room. “Relax. It’s just the flu. You’ll feel better soon.”

“It’s not just that,” Lauren mumbled through a pout as she grabbed a fresh tissue from one of the boxes.

Michael stopped, giving her an amused look. “Oh come on. Did you really want to go to some winter formal?”

Lauren glanced up at him before blowing her nose. The truth was, she did.

But all her visions were of being at the formal with him.

And if he wasn’t going, she really didn’t care about going either way. But there was no way she was giving that as her answer.

“Not really, I guess,” she said with a pathetic shrug.

“Good,” he said, continuing toward his jacket, and he half-lifted it off the chair, digging in one of the pockets. “I got you something,” he said, turning and tossing a plastic bag on the bed.

Lauren leaned over to grab the bag from the foot of the bed. As soon as she pulled out what was inside, she gasped, holding it to her chest.

It was a DVD of the movie Dirty Dancing.

“Oh my God, you remembered!” she squealed, although it came out more like a grating rasp. Je

“I only remembered because I didn’t understand how someone so smart could love something so stupid.”

She dropped her hands to the bed, still clasping the DVD, her expression defensive. “Have you ever even seen it?”

“I don’t need to see it to know that it’s crap.”

“Yes, you do. It’s a classic. It’s practically a rite of passage!” Lauren expounded, and he smirked, shaking his head. “Here, put it in,” she added, holding the DVD out to him.

“No way.”

“Come on,” she said, thrusting the movie at him again.

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind if you think I’m watching that.”

Lauren dropped her hand to the bed, tilting her head at him. “Please?” she said softly, and for a brief second, something that resembled sympathy flickered behind the contempt in his expression. “It will make me feel better. Just stay and watch it with me for a little while. You don’t have to watch the whole thing.”

Michael stared at her for a second. “Did you practice that whole pathetic thing in the mirror before I got here?”

The corners of Lauren’s mouth twitched, and he exhaled heavily. “Fine,” he said, pushing off the dresser and extending his hand.

Lauren handed it to him, not allowing herself to fully gloat until his back was to her and he was putting the movie into the machine.

He hit play and walked back to the foot of the bed, sitting down and folding his arms.

The lyrics to “Be My Baby” filled the room as the opening credits played in front of black and white slow-motion clips of Kellerman’s dance instructors dirty dancing in the clubhouse.

“Well shit,” Michael said after a minute. He turned toward her, quirking his brow. “Whatcha got me watching here, Red?”

Lauren shook her head as he added, “You know, if our school dances looked like this, I might go.”

She was attempting to ignore him, her eyes pi

Against her will, Lauren’s eyes drifted from the television to where Michael now stood, both hands clasped behind his head as he gyrated his hips, biting his lower lip.

Lauren pressed her lips together, trying her hardest not to react, but then he bent his knees, dropping a bit lower as his gyrations grew more pronounced, and one of the hands that was behind his head dropped to spank the air in front of him.

“Lauren?”

She nearly jumpXck you toed out of her skin at the same time that Michael straightened abruptly, his arms dropping to his sides as he whipped around to face her door.

Her father stood in the doorway, his arms folded. “Do you want some tea?”

Lauren knew the question was directed at her, even though her father’s eyes were pi

“No, I’m okay Dad. If I need anything, I’ll call down, okay?”

He looked at his daughter and nodded with a smile, turning to shoot daggers at Michael before he pushed the door open a little farther and walked back down the hall.

As soon as she heard his footsteps on the stairs, Lauren burst out laughing, falling back onto her pillows. But within seconds, her laughter transformed into a nasty, hacking cough.

When she was finally able to catch her breath, she glanced up to see Michael standing next to her bed, holding out the glass of water from her nightstand.

“I don’t even feel sorry for you right now,” he mumbled, and Lauren laughed again, sitting up and taking the water.

“Oh come on,” she said, taking a small sip. “That was hilarious.”

“How many more times is he go

“Stop,” Lauren said, leaning over to smack his shoulder. “You know that was hilarious.

“I know your parents hate me.”

Her smile dropped. “No they don’t.”

Michael looked at her, clearly unconvinced, and she added, “My dad just gets nervous with me spending so much time with a boy.”

“You mean spending so much time with this boy. It’s okay. I get it.”

Lauren sighed, leaning over to place the glass of water back on her nightstand.

“Cheer up, Red. At least your mom does her best to tolerate me.”

She exhaled heavily. “My mom just kind of agrees with whatever my dad says, even if she secretly disagrees.”

Michael looked down, nodding silently.

“My little brother loves you,” Lauren offered.

“Yeah, well,” he glanced up at her with a crooked smile. “He’s too young to realize I’m an asshole.”

“Stop it,” Lauren said, her voice no longer playful. “You’re not an asshole.”

“Yes I am,” he said dismissively. “Are we go

Lauren looked at him for a second, knowing it would be a waste of time to try and argue with him. She sighed again, scooting over on the bed, and Michael slid a bit farther on, sitting back against the headboard.

They watched in silence for a few minutes, and every so often, Lauren would steal a glance at him. His eyes were on the screen, but his expression was blank. She had no way of knowing if he was actually watching or if he was lost in his own thoughts, until he finally said, “This d-bag waiter. The college kid. What’s his name?”

“Robbie.”