A/N Heyyy guys. I'm back, but only because I can't stay away from freaking Michael Moscovitz. I swear, I like him more than I like the boys I meet in real life.
Anyway, someone told me I should make more Little Michael and Mia stories, so I'm going to. Hopefully, I'm much better of a writer than I was when I started fanfictioning a year ago.
So read and review fellow Michael/Mia lovers, and feel free to message me, to give me tips or give your opinion, or just say hi. Don't worry about bothering me, I have no life.
This is when Mia meets Lilly and in turn, meets Michael. There isn't much contact between them, but I'm just getting started.
These stories are going to be mostly oneshots, and I don't own PD.
Gosh, I miss this. :)
When I was five I met my bff. A legitimate Best Friend Forever. Sure, Lilly and I have had fights, but that's an important part of a stable best friend relationship that is considering lasting Forever. I mean, Forever is a really long time, and to get along for the lot of it can't be healthy.
But anyway, for my whole life, I've had someone there, to talk to, and laugh with and invite to things.
I've always taken it for granted, but now that I think about it, not a lot of people have had that growing up. A consistent best friend throughout their childhood.
I'm grateful to Lilly for that.
But not only that.
If I had not met Lilly I never would have laid my little eyes on the hottest eight year old that walked this planet when I did.
When I met Michael Moscovitz, it was like…I finally understood what life was about. It was like someone had punched me in the stomach and pointed at him, saying that this is what I've been looking for for all of my five years. I was allowed to die, then, because I had found the meaning of living.
And I knew that this boy would ruin my life, and I understood that this would hurt more than anything I would ever feel, because I knew that that was what Love is.
Because I don't care what anyone else says, even at five years old, you know Love when you feel it.
My dad had sent me a dress for my first day of kindergarten, and to be honest, I kind of liked it. It was pale yellow, and soft and lacy.
When I called him to thank him, even though I couldn't wear anything that was made in a sweat shop by children making only ten cents an hour, my father said it wasn't.
And when I tried it on, I felt like a princess.
That was when I finally admitted to liking the dress.
I had never been into the whole girly thing. Until then, I had been planning on wearing my lady bug t-shirt and jeans to school. But I had just recently re-watched The Princess Bride on ABC Family, and I thought that I looked just like Princess Buttercup.
I asked my mother if she thought that I looked like a Princess and her mouth got all thin, and she said that Princesses actually live very unhappy lives sometimes and that society had made the abhorrent life style seem glorious since the beginning of Royalty, and that I probably would rather wear my ladybug shirt.
I wouldn't have.
But the dress seemed to make my mother unhappy, and I hated making her unhappy, so I wore my ladybug shirt, and never saw the pretty dress that made me look like a princess again.
Because I wasn't crying, and I did not pee on myself on the first day of school, my teacher did not really fuss with me much. I stayed quiet and did what I was told and was glad when I was told it was time to go outside for recess.
After I had finished my granola bar, I found a nice spot against a tree and proceeded to rip out the braid my mother had tried to tie into my hair. It had been killing me for the longest time, but I didn't want to move around too much during class.
When I was finished, my dishwater blonde hair stuck out from my head in an inconsistent frizz of curls and knots but I didn't care with the ease only a kindergartener could have.
But with a meanness only a kindergartener could have, I was confronted about it immediately.
"Amelia," The blonde girl materialized out of nowhere. I watched longingly as she twirled in her yellow, lacy dress, that was no where near as beautiful as mine, but made her look more like a princess than I could ever be.
"What is wrong with your hair?" She twirled a golden curl as she asked, genuinely curious.
I pat at my head, stomach dropping. What was wrong with my hair? "Nothing," I whispered. My voice was raw from disuse.
Tears pooled at my eyes as the girl laughed. "It looks weird!"
I opened my mouth to tell her something. What, I wasn't sure yet. To shut up, to leave me alone, nothing came out.
Suddenly, the girl was shunt forward, her golden hair yanked into her face, and a soccer ball landed with a thud by her feet. She was crying before the culprit ran up, apologizing.
"Sorry, Lana! Didn't mean to hit you in the head, but I thought you were the goal post, for some reason. Maybe I need glasses or something." Lilly Moscovitz didn't look sorry at all as she grabbed the ball from the grass.
"Lilly, you jerk! I'm telling!" But she didn't need to. Her screaming had attracted the whole kindergarten class to my tree, but no one noticed when the brunette pigtailed head bobbed over to me and grabbed my hand with a smile.
No one noticed when we walked away, still holding hands, already best friends.
"Lana said that you shouldn't be friends with Lilly because she's mean and ugly and we should make a club where only girls with yellow hair can be in," a dirty blonde girl whispered to me when Lilly went to wash her hands.
It was the end of our first day of school and alliances were already being made.
"No thanks," I murmured, and looked at my paint splattered hands. "My hair isn't really yellow enough. Plus, Lana already said it looks weird, so she can't like it now. And Lilly is beautiful and my best friend."
"That's right, miss priss. Now go to hell." Lilly showed up behind us, and the girl scampered away, off to tell the teacher, or whatever.
"Stick up for yourself, Mia," She told me seriously, as we packed our things up. She was the only person I told I liked to be called that. "I can already tell that that's your major downfall. There's my brother, I think I'm leaving."
And there he was. Michael Moscovitz, speaking to our upset teacher, and looking irritated.
His hair was too long and he didn't stand up quite straight. The brown mop on his head covered most of his eyes so all you saw was his freckled nose and his pale, chapped lips.
He bit onto his bottom lip with too-big front teeth at what our teacher told him. She handed him a note and he shoved it into his khaki pants and straightened his tie. The older grades had to wear their uniforms on the first day of school.
Lilly ruined my vision of her brother when she walked up to him. He smacked the back of her head in a sibling way and his mouth frowned.
"Now, Michael, no need to-" Our teacher stammered helplessly.
"It's fine. I'll tell my parents. She'll be better, I promise." I could hear them now that I paid attention.
Lilly glared at her brother as he grabbed her arm and tried to walk out the door. "Wait!" She cried. She grabbed onto the doorway and a confused parent maneuvered their way around the siblings to pick up their child.
"You have to meet Mia." Lilly told her brother. He looked at her incredulously. "She's my best friend," That was suppose to make him care more?
Lilly sighed and led her brother over carpet and around little desks so that they stood right in front of me.
"Mia, this is my brother, Michael. Michael, my best friend Mia."
I waved a little bit but looked down, blushing, as soon as he flipped his hair out of his face and I could see his brown eyes. I fought the need to pat down my hair and wished I had kept it in my braid.
"Hey," he murmured, fixing his backpack so that it rested on both of his shoulders. "Okay, Lilly, let's go. Mom's going to freak when she hears that you…"
And then he turned around and then they were gone.
When my mother came to pick me up a few minutes later, my teacher told me I was great, but I was hanging out with a bit of a naughty group. My mother told her off, saying that she can't judge these children she just met, and on the cab ride home, when she asked how my day was, I could only say, fine.
it would make my liffffeee!