A/N: First and foremost, my acknowledgements: Bookish, of course even though I've been lazy with the replies (sorry bout that) and everyone in general for reading this. I'm happy to tell you that I've reached my 300th hit mark. Yesh, I know that may be a measly number, but I find that that's an accomplishment and anyone who thinks otherwise is just a hater.

I'd also like to address the fact Michelle is named Michelle. Yeah, I thought I was oh so clever pickin' a name from a Beatles song, but apparently I'm not since I've seen about a dozen other fics that feature a Michelle. I don't mind. I just hope mine's unique enough for your taste. Anyway, done with that. Have fun reading!

My Belle
Chapter Five
Reality’s Like a Punch to the Face
“When you argue with reality, you lose - but only 100 percent of the time.”- Byron Katie

Max blinked fixedly at Michelle’s innocent round face as she took a breath from her story telling. “Were you really that mad?”

She nodded, fingering one of the many hats she owned, that was now on her head. “These are important to me. And who were you to just do that?”

Prudence nodded, immediately taking Michelle’s side. “Dude, you were just so being obnoxious. Not cool.”

Max made an obnoxious face at Prudence and Michelle giggled.

“So what happened next?” Prudence nudged Michelle’s arm.

Michelle’s eyes turned towards the ceiling in concentration. “Well, the next night we forced Clarissa to call you. Remember that?”

Max scratched his head. “Think so, could’ve been high. Never know.”

“Well, we were all in our dorm waiting on her to make the call…”

“What are you so afraid of?” Joyce asked impatiently, her hair back in curlers and a cigarette between her long fingers.

“I thought he was ‘different’,” Nancy said, making the quotations gesture. She obviously found Clarissa’s story to be phony, why else would she be hesitating this much?

I paced across the room, arms folded in seriousness. “If you have no problem baggin’ him every night, what’s the big deal with a phone call?”

“Okay! Calm down!” she snapped, her hand hovering over the phone. We all watched her expectantly. “I just need a couple of moments to think out a strategy.”

“AKA, stalling,” Joyce sang as she sat back onto the coffee table.

Clarissa, not standing the annoyance of our voices any more, finally picked the phone up and began to dial. We watched her work fixedly, hanging on every movement she made. As she waited for him to answer, she locked eyes with each of us once sending us mental death rays for putting her though such torture. Suddenly her mouth flew open and her eyes widened. I guess he had answered.

She tug a stray strand of hair behind her ear and said, “Hello, Max? Hey, it’s me, Clarissa…Ummm, you remember, the one from the bar?”

Nancy cackled from her spot by the window. “He doesn’t remember her!”

Joyce joined in on her laughter, but I remained stoic. Clarissa held up her free hand in a very rude gesture to both hysteric girls, but it didn’t do much to shut them up.

“Yeah, yeah, I was with my friends on the street last night,” Clarissa said into the speaker. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty funny…It was pretty funny…No…No…Well, that’s not really why I called.”

I bit my thumbnail nervously as I listened to the conversation.

“You see, I think you took my friend’s hat…Yeah, her…Uh, excuse me? Are you serious? No way—!”

I couldn’t hold myself back any longer, so I dived for the phone, snatching it out of Clarissa’s hands. Before she could pounce on me to retrieve it back, Joyce and Nancy held her wriggling body as I took my turn on the phone.

“So this is Max?” I asked, my fingers twirling around the chord.

“Who’s this?”

I didn’t answer.

“Oh wait, are you Clarissa’s friend?”

“Yeah, the one you took the hat from.”

“You’re really serious about that hat, huh?”

I sighed into the phone.

“Does it have sentimental value? Did your dead grandmother give it to you on her deathbed? Is that why you want it back so bad?”

“Look you jerk, it’s none of your business why I want my hat back, the point is it’s my hat and it belongs to me. So are you going to give it back to me or not?”

“And what if I say no?”

“Michelle! Give the phone back to me!” Clarissa whined, struggling against Joyce and Nancy.

“Your name’s Michelle?”

“Huh, what?” I asked, a little preoccupied with Clarissa flailing legs.

“You don’t look like a Michelle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, from the back your ass read something along the lines of Teresa or Melanie or something.”

My mouth fell open in amazement. The nerve of this guy. I breathed heavily into the phone with the fury building up in my throat. I threw the phone back at Clarissa where it promptly bonked her on the head.

“Tell him...tell him,” I stuttered, the anger taking over my ability to speak. “Tell that jackass I want to see him face to face.”

“What he say to you, Michelle?” Nancy asked in curiosity.

But I couldn’t have replied, because by the time I had registered the question, I had already slammed the door to my bedroom.

“And that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Prudence repeated in disbelief. “That can’t be it.”

Somehow Jude and Lucy had found their way over to their couch and had been listening into the story too. They stared transfixed at Michelle as she twirled a piece of hair around and around her finger.

“Well nothing too exciting happened after that,” she said nonchalantly. “We met, exchanged a few words, and in the end I let him keep it.”

“But after all that drama, that’s it?” Prudence pushed on.

Max could remember that day he had first fully had a conversation with Michelle. It wasn’t just a “quick exchange of words”. Oh contraire, it was the very beginning for both of them. More so for Max because he could distinctly remember knowing that that was the start of him falling hard. Two years later, he ended up being the one ending the relationship. How ironic. But he knew Michelle had a good reason for keeping the truth from the rest of them. They didn’t have to know everything and she had given enough information for them to be interested. She always was a great story teller.

Michelle shrugged.

Suddenly a rapping sound filled the still air. Everyone turned to see Sadie knocking on the sound proof glass, her mouth moving animatedly, and a confused look on her face. They continued to blink cluelessly at her until Jojo took it upon himself to exit the chamber.

“She wants to know why no one’s listening,” he told them calmly.

No one seemed to want to answer. Michelle took this chance to steal a glance at her watch and unexpectedly jumped in her seat. “Oh, it’s late!” She turned to Max. “I kinda’ need to go home.”

Max took her wrist in his hand and looked at the time himself. “Late? Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I hadn’t expected to stay out this long; I really have to get back.” She faced the others. “It was really nice meeting you all.” She stood up along with everyone else and said farewell to each. Sadie stepped out of the room to say goodbye warmly, giving Michelle the giggles as she thanked her over and over again for the album. Following Max out of the studio and with one last resounding send-off, they left.

They descended the stairs in silence, Max occasionally stealing a glance Michelle’s way and Michelle still with a glint of happiness in her eyes. Only until they had reached the street sidewalk did they finally speak.

“How come you didn’t tell them the truth?” Max asked, jingling his keys from his hands.

Michelle shrugged. “You kept introducing me as your old college friend. So that’s what I told them: I was just a friend.” She leaned against the brick face wall of the building, closing her eyes and breathing slowly in and out. Max stared at her fixedly watching her chest move up and down with each breath and the calmness taking over her face. He suddenly wondered why he had left her in the first place. With her elegant form, her deep eyes, that freaking paperboy hats she always wore, and her seeming understanding of him, she was irresistible. Max slowly advanced toward her, not knowing what his body was going to do for his mind was just in for the ride. Their bodies were just inches apart when Max couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He couldn’t lift his arm to touch her face or open his mouth to say something really clever and moody. Instead, he stood their motionless. Finally, Michelle opened her eyes and looked into his and smiled. “I remember when I first saw you,” she whispered. “I wanted to hate you so bad for taking my damn hat. I was ready to tell you off but then I saw you up close I couldn’t because you looked so kind and innocent.”

“And how wrong were you?” he murmured.

“So wrong,” she giggled. “And remember? You sent Clarissa away?”

“She never was very smart.”

“She was in some things,” Michelle said amiably. “Just whenever she was around you…” Her voice faltered and her mouth stopped in mid sentence, leaving it slightly open. It was her turn to become still. All she could do was stare at him and at those eyes and breath.

“You want to know something?” he asked, his voice dropping a little bit more.

She didn’t answer, still not being able to.

“That’s when I knew,” he continued. “That’s when I knew I wanted you so bad. But you wouldn’t let me, no.” He then shook his head slowly and she shook hers a long with him as if in a trance.

Suddenly everything stopped; the sound of the car honks in the distance, the bugs in the bushes, even the humming of the streetlight. And in the middle of it all, it was just them alone in the entire world, nothing else existed. It was if no time had passed at all and they were still the same old people back at Princeton and Evelyn. It was like nothing had changed at all. And with that familiarity, they gave in to what they wanted, what they had craved for the longest time. Max leaned closer and closer to Michelle, ever so slowly. Michelle would’ve let him, she honestly would’ve, but her mind came back to her and kicked her ass out of the dream. She suddenly realized where she was: reality. And her kissing Max at that exact moment was impossible if she was living in reality. So she gasped and turned her face away, leaving him hanging. He immediately moved off away from her and stood awkwardly, looking incredibly sheepish.

“I—I’m, sorry,” she muttered.

“No, it all right,” he replied dutifully. He gestured towards the taxi. “Didn’t you need to get back?”

She nodded avidly suddenly remembering. She dived into the car and Max entered on the other side. The ride back was so deadly quiet that you could practically hear Max’s heart crumbling into tiny sand sized pieces despite the fact he showed none of this on his face. Michelle was agonizing in the passenger seat, twisting and turning trying to find a comfortable position, though there seemed to be none for her. She bit her lip and took a sideways look at Max, but could read nothing. She sighed, feeling extremely guilty. It felt like forever ‘til they arrived in front of Michelle’s apartment. To them, it hadn’t happened long enough.

“Um, thanks for this, Max,” she said, addressing her sweaty hands.

“No problem,” he replied slowly.

Michelle fidgeted with her hair and hat still not moving from her seat. Max stared at her expectantly, just waiting for her to run out of his car and out of his life. But she didn’t. She did look incredibly nervous, though.

“Max,” she finally said after a few moments. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. He secretly hoped that she was about to confess her undying love for him and things would be all right again.

She rubbed her hands together, and then wiped them on her dress. “Remember my birthday?”

He nodded. How could he forget that?

“Well, you know how we—you know.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding even more.

She took a breath. “Well, a week after you left I found out I was…”

“Yes?!”

“I found out I was pregnant,” she hissed.

Max leaned back in his seat, realization dawning on his face. “Who’s was it?”

She gave him a “Michelle” look; a look saying, “c’mon, Max, you should know the answer to this already”.

“You were my first and last, Max,” she said softly.

A/N: Yes, I know another author's note. Oh, the horror. Just bare with me, it'll be short (and is that the right spelling of "bare"?). So yeah, Michelle dropped the bomb. I hope I hadn't been too obvious throughout this fic and the confession was a nice lil surprise to y'all. And I certainly hope I hadn't turned anyone off. Review, review, review if you want to make Mango a very happy person. Tell me if you hate it, love it, or anything in between. I want to know!