Back to You

It was about redemption.

Everyone deserved the chance to be redeemed, and Michael had gone his whole life never having it. He never got to redeem himself with his father. He never got to redeem himself with his brother. And if he was trying to redeem himself now for what he’d done to her, then she was going to let him, even if it left her vulnerable.

Lauren knew she could handle herself. One of the things he’d taught her about herself was that she was much stronger than she thought. She didn’t have to be foolish. She didn’t have to love him again.

She knew those feelings had the potential to resurface, but wasn’t being aware of that enough to prevent it? There was no way it could sneak up on her; she knew what her downfall could be, and so she could consciously remain in control of it. So far, she had done a damn good job of keeping it just friendship. Je

“Well,” Michael sighed, “at least there was one benefit to me staying in tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“I was able to avoid the black ice.”

“Oh…my…God,” Lauren said, her voice breaking on the last word as she disintegrated into hysterical laughter. She was vaguely aware of Michael laughing on the other end, but she could barely hear him over her own.

Lauren curled forward, holding her stomach as she gasped for air.

“I take it you remember that,” Michael said with a smile in his voice, and Lauren nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes, still laughing too hard to answer.

After a full minute passed with Lauren still unable to get control of herself, Michael sighed.

“Alright, alright, it wasn’t that fu

“You’re kidding, right?” Lauren said, still breathless as she wiped her eyes with her comforter. “I think I can safely say that it was, and always will be, one of the fu

The night that Michael had shown up drunk on her driveway, he had woken her up by throwing twigs at her window. Lauren had thought it was an adorable gesture until she opened the window to find Michael barely able to stand.

“You missed New Year’s,” he had slurred. “Come down and party with me.”

“Michael, it’s five in the morning,” she hissed out her window. “And I think you’ve done enough partying.”

“Pshh,” he said, waving his hand at her. “Come on, Red. Come@ this leasi down and hang out with me.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, looking back into her room to make sure no one had heard the commotion and come to check on her.

Michael shrugged. “Suit yourself. Happy New Year!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air and taking a dramatic bow before he turned and jogged sloppily down her driveway.

“Michael!” she whisper-yelled after him, noticing the precarious shine on the blacktop. “Watch out for the black ice!”

“Watch out for the black guys?” he called over his shoulder, the confusion in his voice mixed with drunken amusement. “What the hell is wrong with—” The words cut off as Michael’s legs soared out from under him, and Lauren watched as he flew into the air, his arms flailing at his sides before he landed flat on his back and glided a few feet until his legs were under her mother’s parked car.

Lauren hadn’t thought about that night in years, but now she couldn’t get the image out of her mind. Every time she thought she’d composed herself, she’d start laughing again.

“I don’t know what the best part of that story is: the epic fall you took, or the fact that you thought I was trying to warn you about black guys,” she said through her cackling.

Michael stifled a laugh. “You do realize I could have killed myself. It’s cruel of you to laugh.”

“Hey, I came ru

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael said.

“You were so wasted. I can’t believe you even remember that.”

“Remember it? How could I not? You reminded me of it every chance you got for the next year of our lives.”

Lauren smiled as she laid back against her pillow, and the words were out of her mouth before she could think better of them.

“I really missed you.”

There was a beat of silence, and Lauren’s smile fell as her heart stopped. But before she could even curse herself for the slip-up, she heard him sigh, his words so soft that she wasn’t even sure they were meant for her ears.

“God…me too.”

.

December 2002

Lauren pulled into Michael’s driveway and cut the engine, trying to shake off the sudden sadness that had momentarily overtaken her excitement.

The entire drive to his house, she had been so eager to give him his Christmas present. Getting her hands on it had proved to be nearly impossible; she’d never tell him the lengths she went through to get it, or how much she ended up paying for it, but she could just imagine the look on his face that would make everything worth it.

But as she turned onto his road, her heart dropped slightly. Every house on the street was lit up, a myriad of blinking lights and giant blow-up Santas and twinkling artificial icicles.

Every house except his.

It was literally a blackened hole on a street full of color and festivity, its darkness somehow overpowering the brightness of all the other@whole decisions combined, and the thought of him coming home to this house night after night put an unpleasant heaviness in her chest.

Lauren exited her car, looking up at the dim light coming out of his window, and she smiled as the image of him opening his present made its way back into her mind. She turned and grabbed the bag, shutting the car door and jogging up the front steps to his house.

A long time ago, Michael had told her to just walk in when she came over. It had taken her forever to feel comfortable doing so, but eventually it just became routine. His mother was usually holed up in her bedroom, and on the rare occasions that she made an appearance, she would simply ignore Lauren anyway.

Lauren opened the front door, startled to see Mrs. Delaney sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead as she absently swirled a small glass of brown liquid in her hand.

There was no tree, no smell of Christmas di

She took a small, steadying breath. “Hi Mrs. Delaney,” she attempted softly.

The woman stared straight ahead as if Lauren hadn’t spoken.

Lauren bit her lip, dropping her eyes before she began walking past her toward the stairs.

“You seem like a smart girl.”

Lauren froze. It was the first time in two years the woman had acknowledged her at all, let alone spoken to her.

“Although I’m a terrible judge of character,” she added with a sardonic laugh.

Lauren turned toward her; she was staring down at the glass in her hand as she swirled it slowly.

“But if for once I’m right,” she said huskily, “you should stop coming around here.” She lifted her eyes then, looking at Lauren. “He’ll just ruin you.”

A loaded silence filled the space between them as Lauren stared at the woman before her, completely at a loss for words. She wanted so badly to be able to make sense of her, to find any ounce of humanity in those eyes that might belie the words that just left her lips.

But there was nothing.

And suddenly she felt a heat lighting in her stomach that made it hard for her to breathe.

How could a mother say that about her own son? What could he have ever possibly done to deserve that?

And why did he have to be stuck in this horrible house with her?