A/N: FINALLY! Here is the long awaited Mike date chapter, not written by me, because I was having this huge writers block, but by the absolutely amazing, and splendifferous, Maggie Summers, aka, paper . creations! I am in her debt eternally, or until I give her enough cd's to fill a small station wagon.

Disclaimer: I seriously don't own twilight, in fact, I don't even own this chapter.

Chapter Seven: Mike

I'm bored. I thought as I let my eyes wander, inspecting the room Alice and I shared. You could easily tell which side was hers – it's casual and orderly organization making my disarrayed room look worse. I spied my night's odd accessory – shutter shades – lying on my bed, their bright yellow plastic creating a sharp contrast from my dark purple bedspread.

Rosalie, Alice, and the cheater Tanya had already departed for their dates, and I was waiting impatiently for Mike, who was already a half hour late. I hadn't missed how Rosalie's date Jacob had eyed me when he came to pick up Rosalie, which had put me in a bad mood. But then Rosalie had, minutes before, eyed up Alice's date Emmett, who looked a little remorseful that he was with Alice instead of the hot blonde.

A loud, obnoxious knock came from the front door, and I sighed, popping on my shutter shades and opened the door, coming face-to-face with my date.

Mike Newton was taller than me, but not by much. His dirty-blonde hair was gelled into little, individual spikes, and I couldn't help but wonder if he had been late so he could do his hair. He had commonplace blue eyes and peach-coloured skin, and overall I found him rather boring, but I smiled anyways.

"Hello, Mike." He nodded his head and looked me up and down, none to discreetly. A little shudder ran down my spine at the idea of being judged by looks like a dog in a show.

"Come on, baby, let's hit it."

Baby? How on earth does he think its okay to use endearments on our first date? I thought, completely puzzled. I had a bad feeling in my stomach, and I didn't really want to leave the safety of the apartment. Maybe I should just tell him I have a stomach flu and I need to rain check the date.

"You know, Mike. I'm not feeling very good. Maybe I should stay home."

His small, round baby-face fell slightly and he sighed overdramatically.

"That's too bad. You'll miss that Book Convention I was going to take you to."

Well, those were the magic words, Mike Newton.

"You know, I'm feeling much better. Let's go." I said, closing and locking the door behind me. Mike moved his arm like he was going to link mine in his, which I thought was romantic, but instead, his clammy hand found an unwelcomed spot on my hip, far too low for my liking. I side-stepped away from him, but he followed me, keeping his moist hand on the wrong side of my hip. God, he was touching my thigh.

We exited the campus building and I looked for his car, but I couldn't find it in the dimming light of the twilight night.

"Where's your car?" I asked as he steered us towards a darkening ally between two tall buildings that I had never noticed before.

"I walked here, doll. Gotta help Mother Earth and all that stuff, right?"

Well, his demeanour was rough and clingy and more than a little creepy, but he did want to help the environment, which was a checkmark in my books.

"Yes, of course." I murmured, frowning as we were plunged into darkness. No, I didn't like this. This couldn't be safe.

Suddenly, as though the vacuum of space was in effect, Mike was sucked away from my side, leaving a cooling patch of air on my side and a sickening twist of fear in my stomach.

"Mike?" I called, trying to find him in the failing light. I heard the scuffle of shoes and a grunt. We weren't alone. Oh God.

I backed up until I felt my back press into the slick, brick wall behind me. I tried to slow my rapid breathing and I wished I would magically develop the power to become invisible.

"Bella," Mike croaked, sounding like he was in pain.

"Are you okay?" I whisper-called, not wanting to draw the attention of the attacker.

"Bella, I'm hurt. You have to..." His voice trailed off, and I fought the urge to scream.

"Mike!" I said quietly. I started to shuffle back to the opening of the alley, and in my haste, I accidently nudged an old, rusty can with the toe of my shoe. It clattered and rolled, easily marking my position.

Hands grabbed my shoulders and I screamed as loudly as I could before moist hands clamped down onto my mouth, muffling my shriek. Laughter spurted from the mouth of the attacker and he pulled me out of the dark alley.

"What the hell, Mike?" I demanded when I finally saw his face in the light. He doubled over from laughing so hard and I resisted the urge to smack the smile right off his face.

Instead, I stormed back to my dorm building, only stopping when his vile hand latched itself onto my hip once more.

"I'm sorry, Bella! I couldn't help it." I turned to face him so I could give him the biggest upbraiding of his life, but the genuinely sorry expression Mike sported made me stop. "I was just really nervous, and you're so pretty, and I just wanted to break the ice... I'm so sorry I scared you."

I heaved a sigh and analyzed my possible choices. Either A, I lock myself into the dorm and declare this date over; or B, I give Mike one more chance to be something other than an asshole.

One look at his puppy-dog face, and I was reluctantly choosing B.

"Fine. Where is this book convention?" I asked, hoping it was real. But with Mike, I was beginning to doubt anything that passed from his lips.

"It's just across town. It'll take a half hour to walk there, and I figured we could stop for some dinner on the way." He said, and I decided to believe him. Innocent until proven guilty, right?

Mike's hand went to my hip again, but this time I intercepted him, looping my arm though his and ignored his disappointed expression. Forget it, Mike, I thought, and thankfully, he did.

The entire walk was rather...normal, despite how it started. We talked about classes and work, friends and family, likes and dislikes. I learned that his parent's owned an outdoor sporting supply store. Newton Outfitters, he had called it. He said he was all lined up to take control of it someday, taking courses at the University for Business and Entrepreneurship. I told him about my literary dreams; about how I loved English and my irrational fear of children. I told him that I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life, and he sympathized.

The date was going great; at least, it was doing fine until he led us to a McDonalds.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, holding the bright yellow door – the same colour as my shutter shades – for me.

"Um...I guess." Although I really wasn't hungry for a Big Mac filled with transfats and other hideous things that caused early deaths.

Mike waved to the younger boy at the cash register, whose skin seemed to be as oily as the French fries they served. The adolescent looked up from the customer that he was helping and smiled, recognizing Mike.

"The usual, dude?" He young boy called, and Mike nodded, holding up two fingers and then nodding towards me.

"You have a usual here?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Of course I do, don't you?" He asked, leading us towards a table in the Play Pit. He pulled out the chair for me, nicely enough, and said something, but I couldn't hear him over the shrieking of children. We were sitting right beside the towering plastic jungle gym.

"Dinner won't be here for a couple minutes," He yelled over the shrieking children. "Wanna play?" He asked, pointing his thumb towards the jungle gym.

"Um, no thanks." I said and he shrugged.

"Your loss." He said, dropping his cell phone onto the brightly coloured table-top and sprinting towards the huge, plastic monster, disappearing inside it. I sighed and pressed the shutter shades further up my face, hoping no one would recognize me in my utter humiliation. I found myself wishing the shutters on my shades would pull closed and block out the hideous scene before me. But alas, the shutter shades didn't move, and the world was only partially obstructed.

I jumped when Mike's phone vibrated, and the front screen lit up with a little envelope that said 'Jessica' on it. I cocked my head sideways, and pressed a button 'accidentally' to make the message open.

'Babe, where are you? You didn't forget our anniversary, did you?' It read, riddled with chat speak that took me far too long to read. Jessica? Mike never mentioned a Jessica. Anniversary? Was he already in a relationship?

My musing was cut short by the greasy teenager that dropped the two meals onto the table, leering at me before leaving. On the tray were two brightly packaged Happy Meals. Mike's usual was a children's meal. How... enlightening.

Mike didn't appear, so I stood gingerly and tottered on my three inch heels, trying to find him in one of the windows of the jungle gym.

Finally, I found him sitting in the Ball Pit with a seven-year-old, glaring daggers at each other. I opened my mouth to tell Mike that dinner was there, when he picked up a brilliant blue ball and hucked it at the seven-year-olds head. The child burst into tears and scrambled out through the opening, crying for his mother. Mike grinned in triumph and my eyes widened in shock.

"Mike?" I asked incredulously, and his head swung towards me. "... Dinner's at the table." I choked out, and he grinned, pushing past me to get back to the table.

I followed slowly, trying not to fall over in my heels. Stupid Alice. Yellow shutter shades, royal blue dress and crimson red high heels do not go together. I looked like a walking sample of the primary colours. And worst of all, I fit right into McDonald's decor.

In the thirty seconds it took me to get back to the table, Mike had scarfed down his chicken nuggets, most of his French fries and was starting on his second drink. Wait, I didn't think you got two drinks with a Happy Meal...

"I hope you don't mind me taking your drink. I was really thirsty." He said around a mouthful of greased up potatoes. I sighed and shook my head, plopping down into my seat and starting on my own chicken nuggets and fries.

The dinner was awkward and quiet and not soon enough, we left the restaurant without paying.

"They'll put it on my tab." Mike explained, not making me feel any better. At that moment, my only saving grace was the idea of a book convention, where I could slip away and leave Mike. Yes, the book convention would be my paradise.

So, imagine my surprise when Mike led us to a regular, ratty bookstore in the middle of nowhere.

"Here's the convention." He said. But there was no convention. The bookstore's interior made my skin crawl with its bareness. There had to be a grand total of ten books, one of them being the auto-biography Hitler that he wrote while in prison for the first time, before he became the dictator of Germany. Good lord, help me.

"Where's the convention...?" I asked.

"Convention? No, there's not convention. It's just a book store."

"But you just said..."

"No, you must be mistaken." He said, picking up Hilter's book and leafing through it.

No, no, no. I wanted to go home. Now.

"I'm really tired, Mike. I want to go home." I said, leaving the store and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. I needed a rescue.

Perfectly on cue, my cell phone vibrated with text from Rosalie.

'I ditched my date. He was an ass. Where are you?'

'Outside a hideous little bookstore. I need a rescue!'

Mike wandered outside just as I sent the text.

"What's happening?" He asked, and I suddenly remembered something.

"Who's Jessica?"

"My sister." He said a second too late. He was lying.

'Give me your location and I'll swing by in the M3.' Rosalie's next text read. I checked the street signs and quickly typed her my location. Mike watched me curiously.

"Who are you texting?" He asked, trying to read over my shoulder, but I snapped my phone shut.

"My mother. She was curious as to where I was." I lied, but he didn't seem to notice the deceptive ring of it. I plopped down onto the bench outside the store and waited anxiously for Rosalie. Mike joined me, his arm snaking around my shoulders.

"What in the world do you think you're –" He cut off my sentence by shoving his mouth on mine, making me want to gag. I wrenched my head back, breaking the contact and I leapt up, creating as much distance as I could.

"Hey, asshole, get off my friend!" A voice called, and with a huge sense of relief, I spotted Rosalie, sitting pretty in her shiny red car, glaring at Mike.

"My hero!" I cried, hopping into the passenger side seat.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked.

"Home! Thanks for the evening!" I called as Rosalie hit the gas pedal and sped away. I laughed as Mike disappeared on the dark horizon.

Two hideous dates down, one to go.

A/N: Okay! Eric's date is all planned out, and only partially written! I will try to get it up within the week, but if I epically fail, Maggie's not going to be able to bail me out until monday. Next monday. Very sad. So, I would love it if you guys had any tips about how to cure writers block, if so, please tell me, and you'll get the next chapter a whole lot quicker.