Chapter twenty-four - Something

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-The following Sunday-

I'm so curious right now, I tell you. It's the middle of the afternoon, and today is the day Michael and I are supposed to be going on our date. Knowing he's organising it, it'll probably be a visit to the fields, perhaps with a slight twist, so ... why haven't we left already? That's the part I'm curious about. Surely it's just the fields ... right?

"Are you going to tell me anything?" My confusion gets the better of me, as I prod Michael's chest somewhat violently, yet with every intention of being playful, "I mean, it's just a little trip to the fields, right?"

He has a smirk on his face, which gives me the impression that he doesn't plan on revealing anything any time soon, "You know Cit, you could easily just wait until we go on this date?" He wrinkles his nose, his smirk dissolving into a grin as he presses his hand against the small of my back, gently pushing me towards the direction of the stairs, "But if I were you, I would get all fancy now. Oh! But keep it somewhat casual; wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable now, would I?"

Furrowing my eyebrows, perplexed, I make my way upstairs, arriving at my room shortly after. So, all I know so far is that the dress code is smart but casual, and that he doesn't want me to be uncomfortable for this date. That really tells me nothing – it has to be the fields. There's simply no other place I can think of within a short distance from here.

Oh well ... I'll just make myself look presentable, anyway.

* * *

Up to now, I know a few more things about the date –we're leaving to go there at 5:30pm; it's somewhere we've both been to before; and the more silly thing he mentioned – the place has a floor. Why he bothered to tell me that, I'll never know; every place has a floor. It's not like we're going to go parachute jumping for our date, is it?

Anyway, I've prettied myself up, which is a rare occasion for me. If it was just a normal trip out with Michael, I would be making a lot less effort, but it's a date – my first one in years, I might add. Hence, I'm wearing a flowery dress that comes just above my knees, sparkly flats, and a little flower in my hair to match the dress. I'd like to think I look nice ... I just hope Michael has made a little effort, too.

With a little spritz of perfume just for fun, I come to the conclusion that I'm ready. It's currently 5:23pm, meaning there's only seven minutes until we leave, and honestly? I'm excited for this. It's also a little scary, in a weird sort of way – by the end of the night, we could either be a couple, or back to just best friends.

It's then that I hear a knock on the door; it's probably Michael. Why am I now suddenly feeling nervous? Why am I now suddenly feeling like I don't look okay? Why am I suddenly feeling as if he's going to disapprove of what I'm wearing? Why am I suddenly feeling—?

"Cit? Are you ready?" Michael's voice calls through the door, interrupting my many questions.

My breath catches in my throat a little, "I-I—um, almost." I swallow to get my voice back again, "Almost ready. You go downstairs; I'll be there in a second okay?"

"Okay." Moments later, I hear his footsteps lead downstairs, giving me a little freedom.

Maybe my many self-doubting questions are a result of inexperience. I mean, it's been years since I've had to do this; I've pretty much forgotten how all of it works. I just want it to be perfect; I really like Michael – more than just a friend – but if something happens badly tonight, it could ruin it all, which I really don't want.

"Calm, Citria," I tell myself, catching a quick glance of myself in the mirror, "You look okay. Michael will love it. It'll be fine. It's just a date. It's nothing scary. He's a really caring man. You won't mess this up. Got it?" Taking a deep breath, I nod my head, answering my own question to myself, "Got it. Let's do this."

Then I turn around, getting a quick look at a photo of mother and I. It makes me wonder if she can see me right now; if she can, then I hope she's proud of me. Slowly, I walk over to the photo, lifting it up with my thumb and forefinger, before placing a light kiss on mother's face. "Wish me luck for tonight, mom. I love you." Placing the photo down again, I inhale deeply to avoid crying, before making my way downstairs.

"Is that Citria I hear?" Michael questions from the living room. He can't yet see me, neither can I see him, as I haven't entered the living room yet.

My hand is resting on the door handle. All I have to do is twist it, before we both see one another. These nerves I'm feeling are ridiculous; it's not like Michael and I only just met – we're best friends! Or at least ... were.

Then, I do it. I twist the handle, opening the door, revealing myself to Michael, and Michael to myself. He looks amazing – he's wearing a checked shirt, with blue jeans. Smart but casual – it looks perfect. His hair isn't tied back this time – it makes a change seeing his hair down, but oh, it looks wonderful.

Yet ... he's the one staring at me in awe.

"Cit ... y-you look beautiful." His voice sounds shocked, and it's almost a whisper, "Really beautiful."

It's been such a long time since I've been complimented on my looks properly. Leaving out the time Michael complimented my eyes, it's been ... years. Absolutely years.

A bashful smile forms on my face, "Th-Thanks. Uh ... you look great, too." They aren't really the words I wanted to say; I was going to use a stronger word than just "great", but the nerves have gotten the better of me, "Um ... I mean, better than great—I-I just mean—"

He chuckles, "I think I got it. Thank you, Cit." He flashes a shy smile, blinking once to allow his eyes to move down to the floor, "I hope you enjoy tonight; I've been looking forward to it all week. It's also going to help me overcome my fear."

Then, I grow confused, "Fear? What fear? How could you have a fear of going on dates?"

He shakes his head to indicate that isn't what he means, "No, no, I'm fine with dates. I mean ... my fear of being around a lot of people. Lately I've only been around you and a couple other people; the place we're going tonight will have a lot more."

"So it's not the fields?" My eyes widen.

"No. What made you think it was the fields?" he asks, fiddling with his shirt collar a little, "I'm not just going to take you to the same old place we always go to. Tonight's got to be special, so I intend to make it that way."

A warm, mellow smile creeps onto my face, "I didn't mean to make assumptions; it's just I didn't expect you to go anywhere crazy." Before continuing, I swallow, "But I'm sure I'll love it, no matter where we go."

He carefully places his hand in mine, as we begin to walk out the door, "Then let's go, Miss Espinosa."

*  *  *

After a highly anticipated wait, we finally arrive at our date location – and as soon as I see it, I instantly recognise it. It's the place Michael and I have both been to in our childhood, but only really spoken of once or twice ...

... The roller disco.

"Really?" An excited smile forms on my face, "The roller disco?" My smile turns into a huge grin, as I stand opposite him and squeeze his hands tightly in my own, "It's been years since I came here!"

He tries to return the smile, but something seems to be preventing him from doing so. Instead, he says, "I'm glad you're happy."

"What's wrong?" My grin changes quickly into a frown, "Michael?"

He forces a smile, "Nothing ... why?" Although this is clearly a lie, he's trying his absolute hardest to appear genuine with me right now.

"It's because of how many people there are, isn't it?" A sympathetic expression makes itself obvious on my face, as I gently stroke his arm, "We can go home if you like. Or maybe the fields. I don't want you panicking if this is too much for you."

He inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, "No. I'm not letting my petty fear get the better of me. Come on; let's go in there."

"You're sure?" My tone is now more sincere, as I want his honest answer.

He nods, taking my hand once again. I begin to pull him slowly towards the entrance, but he pulls me back a little, almost resisting the light force I was using to drag him. A sigh escapes from my lips as I turn around to see him, with a worried expression on his face.

"Michael," I breathe, standing opposite him. My hand reaches up to slick back some of his more loose curls, "I know this is a big step. If you don't want to go in there, I understand that. We can go somewhere more quiet if you like; I don't mind at all. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

Through my words, his eyes don't look away from my own. He can tell that I'm being serious, which is probably calming him down, to be honest. His tense expression seems to be softening, now.

Once again, he shakes his head, "No. I really will do it this time. It's time that I learned to trust people more. I'm not letting this ruin our time. Come on; this time I'll do it ... for you."

A proud smile spreads across my face, as I reach up to kiss his cheek, "If you're sure then ... I believe in you, Michael. I know you can do this."

This time, when I pull him, he doesn't resist – instead letting me drag him towards the roller disco entrance. As soon as we open the doors, we hear loud music, as well as laughter and shrieks of happiness. So what if most of the people here will be teens and people in their early twenties? Michael and I are only a few years older than that; it's not so bad. And besides, it's only a little fun.

Upon hearing the noise, Michael initially freezes, but with a tiny reassurance hug from me, he manages to walk up to the desk with me to ask for roller skates. After receiving and putting on our skates, Michael decides to brave standing up first. He starts to wobble a little, but regains his balance by taking a hold of a window ledge.

"You know, it's not so bad," he tells me, seeing that I'm still sat down on the bench, a little afraid to move for fear of falling.

"I know it's not so bad. I just don't want to fall." A chuckle accompanies my statement.

"No ... I mean, being out in public is ... not as bad as I thought it would be. It's been a couple months since I've done this, but now I am, it's kind of ... refreshing; exciting. I-I'm not afraid any more."

"Oh." A slight embarrassed feel runs through me because he was speaking of something else, "Well, I'm really happy you're not afraid any more, Michael. You're taking a big step tonight; I'm real proud of you."

For the first time tonight, he seems to return a genuine smile, "Thank you ... honestly. I'm glad I'm not scared any more; it would've made tonight less fun for us." The loose curls I previously pushed back droop over her forehead, "And anyway ... you won't fall. I'll be here to catch you if you do."

"Come help me," I demand playfully, reaching my arms up for him to take my hands. He does so, hauling me up from my seat.

At first, I almost stumble, but Michael keeps a firm grip of my wrists, "Steady now," he snickers, placing a soft kiss on my nose, "Don't want you to fall." He helps me keep my balance, with one hand on my waist, the other holding my wrist to keep me upright. "Now, should we try actually going onto the dance floor?"

With a nod of my head, he slowly spins me around, taking a hold of my hand as he begins to skate towards the disco entrance doors. Amazingly, I'm managing to keep my balance rather well up to now – but we'll just see how many times I fall tonight. Without even opening the entrance doors, the music is real loud. Imagine what it'll be like when we're actually inside there? It's giving me quite a buzz; I'm really excited!

Entering the disco area, we see hundreds of people dancing around in roller skates – groups of girls, couples, the occasional few boys sitting on the benches watching the girls – so many people are here. My head turns to see Michael's reaction; he looks a tiny bit nervous, but at the same time, there's a glint in his eyes that tells me he's feeling the opposite.

"You're okay, Michael?" I question, squeezing his hand tightly to gain his attention.

He looks down at me, nodding firmly, "I told you, I'm okay. It actually looks fun. Let's forget about my fear for now. Okay?" A faint smile tugs at his lips.

"Okay."

With that being said, he carefully skates towards a bench, taking a seat on it, before pulling me down to sit by him. We sit and watch the other skaters moving around the dance floor – some falling or tripping slightly every so often, of course – but the majority dancing or just simply skating.

"Are we going to get up and dance?" I wonder out loud, my eyes averting to Michael in the hope that he's heard me.

"We will. I'm just waiting for a good song to come on; one that sounds good." A smirk plays on his lips as he says this, the reason unknown to me. Maybe he only likes dancing to certain songs. He then decides to raise another conversation, "You know, I'm happy we're here tonight. We've barely started, and I'm already enjoying myself."

A light chuckle comes from me, "Well, me too. But then again, I knew that wherever we went, I would love it, because it's ... with you." All the time, his hand is touching mine. It feels magical to me; who knew such a simple thing could make me feel so special?

"And I'm the same; no matter where we could've gone tonight, I would have enjoyed it anyway. I think it's real neat that you think so too." Under the disco lights, I see him give an embarrassed smile. Had the lighting have been better, I probably would have been able to tell if he's blushing or not.

Then, the song changes to a fast one, with a loud beat. Michael jumps at this, standing himself up, pulling me up with him, "We have to dance to this one!" he explains, dragging me towards the dance floor.

"Gosh," I murmur to myself, finding it amusing how lively he's suddenly become.

We get to the dance floor, where Michael immediately starts dancing with me. His hand is still in mine, so we do a few simple yet quick moves to match the rhythm of the song that's playing. I'm surprised at how good a dancer he is – especially in roller skates!

"Impressive!" I compliment, as he spins me around, fast, "I didn't know you could dance so good!"

He shrugs, catching me as I start to wobble a little, "Just average. I wouldn't say I was a good dancer to be honest."

"No, neither would I. I would say you're a great dancer!"

My enthusiasm causes him to laugh, "Whatever you say, Citria. Thanks."

We continue to dance until the song dissolves into a much slower one, which causes Michael's hyper mood to subside, replaced with a more serious one, now. He gently rests his hands on my waist, whilst my arms reach up to wrap around his neck; this'll stop me from tripping, too. His eyes have a glint in them – only, what was once a happy, excitable glint is now a sincere, serious sort of glint. It's like his eyes match his mood perfectly.

His eyes capture mine, and it's now that I realise we probably won't be looking away from one another any time soon. Slowly, we rock side-to-side to the tune that's playing, which makes me feel relaxed and calm, now. It's a beautiful atmosphere.

"Citria?" Michael's voice is now a mutter, but still holds warmth.

"Michael?" My imitation of his voice causes a tiny smile to briefly form on his lips.

"I've decided," he informs me.

The disco lights are making his eyes sparkle; I'm in awe of his seemingly-flawless appearance.

"You've decided?" My tone indicates that I wish for him to elaborate a little.

He nods his head subtly, "After the past few days, I've realised that I really do want us to be ... something. At first, I think it was more of an adrenaline rush, but now ... I genuinely feel it."

"So you're saying—?"

"Yes, Citria." He clears his throat, rocking me side-to-side, still, "I'm saying ... I love you."

Those words cause me to release a breath I didn't even realise I was holding in. Michael loves me. He actually loves me. He's just told me ... he loves me.

Well, say it back, Citria! Say it back!

A loose grin spreads across my face, as I giggle a little, "Well ... I'm feeling the same way, Michael. I think today has been perfect. And so ... " Am I really going to say these words? Yes, yes I am, "I love you ... too."

"Citria?" He seems to have another question for me to answer.

"Yes, Michael?" I answer, feeling his hands slide around to the small of my back.

He looks a little nervous, but he asks me his question anyway.

"Be my girl?"

A smile plays on my lips as I nod, with no hesitation, "No questions asked, Michael. I'll be your girl."

His more serious expression changes to a look of happiness, as he moves one hand from my back, to my cheek, before he leans his head towards my own. Our eyes close, and moments later, I feel his lips touch softly against mine in a sweet kiss.

Our first kiss as a real couple.

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The moment you've been waiting for? Only took twenty-four chapters, eh? Hehe! x3
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)