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October 29th, 1983 - Saturday
6:15 P.M.
Skirts, jeans, heels, and jackets fling across the room as frustration builds. So many pieces of clothing but none are speaking to you to wear them. All those hours of shopping seem to be in vain.
Michael should be calling soon, so a decision needs to be made. He had the patience of an angel, but you would hate to make him suffer the wait of your indecisions.
So far, you had a denim skirt that stopped just above the knee, tightened around your waist with a black buckle belt. Your hair was fluffed up by clouds of hairspray and rollers that were in your hair all day. Your earrings swing with every movement and your makeup felt incomplete with no shirt nor shoes to go with it. A quick look in the mirror made you look like a hooker.
The telephone rings on your dresser, sparking anxiety. You knew that was Mike, so you rush over and lift the phone from the switch hook.
“Hey.” You say cooly, hiding your rushing nature.
“I’m about to pick ya up. Just letting you know.” Michael’s voice massages your eardrums.
“Okay, I should be ready when you get here.”
You can hear a light chuckle from the other line, causing a side eye. “What’s funny?”
“You’re never ready when I pick you up. That’s okay, though. I’ll just, uh, sit with your cat.”
“Of course you would, Snow White.” Michael’s laughter lifted your frown instantly.
“I should be there in about thirty minutes.” You question the timing since it usually takes him fifteen minutes to get to your house, but you don’t bother asking.
“Alright. See you.” You set the phone down and sigh when you see the messy state of your room. How the hell are you going to pull this together in thirty minutes?
By some October miracle, you found a striped dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, keeping the collars popped up. You ditched the desire of heels and settled for white sneakers with slouch socks to match. Bangles, bracelets, and a necklace were the cherry on top that complemented your makeup. You only had a minute to admire your stellar beauty due to the doorbells. You wanted to prove Michael wrong, so you snatch your purse and jacket and speed towards the front door. Your black cat quietly shoots you a look.
Opening the door, Michael greeted you with a rad red jacket, his gorgeous face, and his wet Jheri curls. You used to never understand the word breathtaking, until Mike being this close to you started squeezing the air out your lungs.
You mask your heart. “Nice jacket.”
“Yeah, one of my dancers got it for my birthday.”
“Oh really?”
“It was one of those he knew someone who knew someone famous, and he knows my favorite color is red.”
“That’s pretty bitchin.”
“Yeah, that word.” You laugh at his modesty.
You look to the floor and notice his red pants and signature socks and loafers combo. He lowers his head to get a good look at you. “You, okay?” He lifts your chin a little to meet your eyes with his dark ones.
The stare between you two is too much to hold for more than five seconds. You look away again when Mike softly rubs your chin. Overkill at this point. “I’m fine. Just got a lot going on.”
“Yeah, haven’t heard from you in a couple days.” He brushes some hair back. “I missed you like crazy.”
You look up, “I missed you too. I was so excited all day to see you.” You giggle. “It’s kind of embarrassing to say because we’re just going to the movies.”
Michael lifts a finger. “Ah. Out to eat first. The movie we’re seeing doesn’t start until 8:15.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Michael...”
“You wouldn’t even know if I told ya.”
“I still would like the know.”
“That’s your problem. I remember you telling me the other day that a lot of your days feels boring. That’s because you want to know everything. You gotta leave room for surprises, y’know.”
You roll your eyes, “Is this a lecture or a date?”
Mike does a quiet laugh then stares at you from head to heels. “You look lovely.”
Your heart screams, your stomach is full of feathers, and your brain tattoos his words. Instead of communicating that, you nod with a smirk. “Thanks. I just threw this on last minute.”
Mike can see through your facade as he reaches over to let you out first. His face gets close, putting those feelings into overdrive. “Whatever you say.”
7:05 PM
There were many booths of loud colors paired with white. A handful of single middle-aged adults and two handfuls of the carefree youth chattered with their clinging forks and small sips. A pop song that didn’t overplay on the radio announce its presence faintly amongst the clatter and chatter.
You try to ignore you and Mike’s knees getting familiar under the table. Looking at your date, he is clearly oblivious to the unspoken conversation your legs are having. Or maybe he does know and is putting on an act, Michael is a prankster after all.
He looks up with a small smile. “Food is good?”
You nod, “Yeah, it’s delicious. I never been here. How did you find this joint?”
“It’s been around for almost four years now.” He answers with a chuckle.
“That’s crazy. I never heard of it.”
“That’s cause you’re either at home or school.” He points at you. “I was lucky getting you out for this.”
You fake offense. “So not true!”
Mike sits back and crosses his arms. “When was the last time you went out?”
“I--
“For fun.” Mike clarified.
Your mouth was ready to fire back but your mind was frozen over.
“See? See?”
You adjust your posture to appear dominant. “In my defense, I’m not from here like you. Plus, school and work got me busy all the time. Not everyone comes from a wealthy family like you.”
“I’m not from here either, I just lived here most of my life. And you make me sound like some silver spoon spoiled child.”
“I’m not saying that, Mike. You’re the last person I would call that. I just want you to understand where I’m coming from.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m not mad.” He goes to rub your knuckles, his palm pressing against your polished nails.
You look to your plate. “But you’re right. I do need to go out more. I don't want to be those people who turn thirty-five and have nothing to look back on.”
“Well, we can start with tonight.”
“What movie are we seeing anyway?” You take another wing.
“A movie called, uh, Thriller. Came out a couple weeks ago.”
You look up to him with caution. “Is it scary?”
“Of course it’s scary, it’s called Thriller. You don’t like scary movies?”
“Not really a fan of them.” You shake your head.
“You’ll be fine. I'll be there with you.”
For some dumb reason that made your heart skip a beat. God, you were so easy.
Mike notices your third slice of pizza being half chewed. “You done?”
You nod, feeling guilty when you notice your slice of pizza and two wings still on the plate. “Is there any way I can take it to-go? I hate--”
“Wasting food. I know. I hate it too.” MJ sits back and thinks. “How about I finish it on our way?”
“You still have room to eat?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“You won’t be hungry for popcorn.”
“I’ll just get a small bucket.”
“That’s if you’re still hungry! Your stomach is gonna pop, Mike!”
Mike chuckles as he waves down the waiter. “Girl, you underestimate my appetite.”
7:40 PM
White sneakers and black loafers walk east from the diner they left moments ago. The streetlights emitted their small spotlights along parts of the road. You look up to see a twilight of periwinkle bleeding in the corners of night and lingers of sunset. Mike throws the last wing in the to-go box and looks for the nearest trash can.
“I can’t wait for my car to get fixed.”
You turn to him. “What happened to it, anyway?”
“My brother took it for a spin and wreck it a bit.”
You smirk. “Which one?”
He gives you a look then laughs. He reaches over and softly pinches your cheek. “It was Randy.”
“I figured.”
“He wanted to use my car to impress a girl on a date.” He shakes his head. “Ended up looking like a dimwit.”
“When will it’ll be fixed?”
“Uh, the mechanic said it might be a few more days. I understand it takes time, but I just want my car.”
You rub his shoulder. “I feel you. Hey, on the bright side, at least we’re getting some exercise in.”
He pulls a couple of dance moves off the fly. “I already get enough exercise.”
“How can I forget, Mr. Dancer.”
Michael was one of the best dancers you ever seen. The way his body flexes and motions with whatever music you could put on, he always looked supernatural. It wasn’t bias either, so many folks request him to teach them how to dance and he even gotten offers to teach some pop stars a dance routine for their music videos. On the 31st, he had a zombie dance routine he was going to do with his dance club for a Halloween competition. You can’t wait to see what he’s been working on the past month and a half.
Your hand accidently brushes against his and your reflexes pull away, you don’t know why. You two been past the awkward stage yet you still do things like this. Mike notices the pull back and uses his fingers to swing towards yours.
It was a long brush. You look down.
Next time, his fingers sweep through the space between yours but doesn’t lock. You look at him. He keeps looking forward, pretending this isn’t happening.
His hand goes to softly grab four fingers, holding it like a prized possession. His large hand was the only thing warm during this nippy weather. His thumb spreads across your fingers, knuckles, and backhand; a blush follows. Mike takes a good look at you and forms a confident smile, knowing his effect on you.
Obnoxious bright lights were in the far distance, signaling that they were close. You touch your poking stomach. “I’m so full. I’m not getting anything, not even a drink.”
“More popcorn for me.”
“You and your obsession with popcorn.” You pinch his skinny arm. “Such a fatty.”
“I am not obsessed with popcorn. It’s just a nice snack.”
“You are obsessed. You refuse to watch a movie without it.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Yes, I don’t.”
“No, you don’t.” You slap his arm. “Hey!”
Mike laughs like a mischievous child and claps his hands. “Trick ya.”
You shake your head with a smile you can’t hide. “Can’t stand you.”
Mike looks ahead and stops in his tracks. His smile shapes into a surprised o. “Don’t tell me that’s the line...” You look ahead and see both lines on each side of the theater consisting of at least fifteen to twenty people, estimated by sight.
Mike grabs your arm and smoothly pulls it towards him. “C’mon. More people are getting in line.” You try to keep up with him, but you weren’t a track star. “We’ll get there, Mike. Slow down, will ya!”
8:15 PM
You and Mike are one of the last set of folks to come in. He uses his foot to push himself up to see any available seats for two. Surprisingly, a couple of seats near the front side were available so you tap Mike’s shoulder.
“Mikey.” He ignores you. You put more force when you slap his arm. He looks at you confused. “Ow! What’s wrong?”
You point to show him. He squints to see past the crowd of people. He brows raise and he grabs your hand. “C’mon before someone gets them.”
Thankfully, you two snag them and sit down after shuffling past a few people. After you settle, you look to your left to see Mike opening his Care Bear: Gummi Bears. The small bag of popcorn sat on his lap, white and yellow, hot and fresh, smelling delicious and tempting.
You grab a few and quicky pull back until Mike grabs your wrist. “I thought you were full?” You continue to move your hand towards your mouth and slowly chew in his face. He goes to grab your jaw delicately with his hand. “That’s gonna cost ya.”
For some reason that excites your stomach and a little further down, and it shouldn’t have. You hate how easy it was to stir a certain heat within you, especially from him. The guys before Michael had to put in work to get you like this but him, one touch with one look was all he needed. That’s the only thing you hated about Michael.
The room goes dark, so everyone’s attention starts to turn towards the screen. You pull your head from his grasp and poke his nose to ease the rising tension between you two. He keeps his stare for a long moment before his attention turns to the opening credits. You exhale quietly to control yourself; but that was really fucking hard when his hands caress your thigh for a quick moment.
A title card dripping with blood shows, Thriller! appearing on a black screen. You mentally prepare yourself for what this movie might put you through.
10:06 P.M.
Walking into the lobby, people attending late night showings stand in line, patiently and impatiently waiting in the concession stand. You notice the folks who was at the same showing as you and Mike leave out the doors, having animated conversations. Turning to your left, Michael was quiet with his thoughts, but his face was thrilled. You decide to start the conversation.
“That was tight.” “That was so scary.” You two say simultaneously.
You look at him, and he looks at you, both erupting laughter.
“It was too scary for me. I was closing my eyes for most of the movie.”
Mike rolls the arm you have been grabbing on for dear life the past hour and a half. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“Oh, hush.”
After Michael throws all the trash away, two walk out the theater.
“It’s dark out.”
“And it’s full moon...” he pops his eyes wide and form claws, “Maybe I’ll turn into a wolf and eat ya too.” He goes to fake bite your shoulder while growling. You squeal when he picks you up by the waist and spins you around.
“Mike, stop!”
You usually feel subconscious about people passing by, onlooking you and Michael’s PDA, but this time you it didn’t bother you too much. He imitates the werecat boyfriend in the movie and chases you around. You giggle as you run from him, accidently running in the street, towards a wide alleyway. You don’t know if this was the way home or not, but you needed to get away from him before he gets you.
You run out of breath, so you walk slowly along the alleyway with a small smile. Mike ditched the werecat bit but still wanted to play with you. He creeps up to you and walks sideways in an animated motion.
“It's close to midnight, and something evil's lurking in the dark! Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart! You try to scream, but terror takes the sound before you make it! You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes! You're paralyzed!”
Coming up with these lyrics off the fly, Mike performs various frisky actions like a theater kid. He did spins and dramatic turns around you, did a backward zombie walk, and grabbed your shoulders to psyche you up. You can’t help but roll your eyes with an amused smile at his childish nature.
“These scare tactics aren’t working, Mike. Try harder.”
He lifts a finger at you to let you know that he ain’t done.
“They're out to get you, there's demons closing in on every side! They will possess you unless you change that number on your dial! Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close together, yeah.” Michael goes to hug you, and you fit his side like a puzzle, hand on his chest. “All through the night I'll save you from the terror on the screen I'll make you see!”
You hang to his arm and you two walk past a foggy graveyard. Michael playful smirk distracted you from the creepy atmosphere around you two. You can help but laugh and shake your head at his singing shenanigans.
“Boy, you’re so silly.”
10:22 PM
You two are almost out the alleyway and the area starts looking familiar and signaling that you are close to home. In your right peripheral, you see a two-story house in a nearby park. You don’t recall a house ever being there. Squinting to get a closer look, you see people with torn clothes and rough pale skin. Your lungs feels like it’s compressing when your heart accelerates.
Your hands tighten around the red leather of Mike’s jacket. “Is that...”
“Woah.” Your boyfriend eyes widen like a kid.
“Michael, let’s go.”
“What!? Why?”
“Zombies! Do you see what I’m seeing!?”
Mike looks amused, “I’m sure they’re just actors for a haunted house or something.”
Looking back, the zombies seem to be walking in your directors, a couple has their eyes on you. Terror pokes around your heart.
“No, they’re real!” You yank his arm. “They’re coming! C’mon!”
Mike looses it and throws his head back for a laugh. You face gets tight with embarrassing heat.
“Everything is a damn joke to you.” You push him and run away until that house and the zombies were dots in your vision. Michael’s shouts were ignored because distress, fear, and shame were all stabbing your chest.
One sore foot is removed from your shoe, laying it across your opposite knee. You massage the thick muscles from your toes to your mid-arch. The tension makes you wince and regret not putting on more suitable shoes for all the walking you’ve been doing. All to look cute for a boy that isn’t even with you right now.
“Okay, don’t put too much fire on Mike. You were the one that ran off...” You thought to yourself.
When you move to the other foot, slow steps against the pavement told you that he chased you down. Should you expect anything less from him? Mike wasn’t the type of guy to leave you by yourself at night, even after you told him off.
You feel a hand gently lift your chin up to see loving concern. Gosh, he was the most handsome guy you laid your eyes on.
“Can we talk?” When no response follows, he rubs your chin. He calls your name in the tone that had no trace of annoyance.
It takes you a moment before slowly nodding. Michael sits so close that his red jeans sit inches away from your skirt. He grabs the foot you were tending to and works the muscles out the core. After a couple winces, you relax at his firm, large hands smooth through your foot. It’s nothing like another person getting the kinks out your lower feet.
“If I knew you were scared of zombies I would have led us on a different way to your house.” Mike glances over the direction he came from. “The local theater are planning to host a haunted apocalyptic house. They’re not real, baby.”
“It doesn't matter if they're real or not. They creeped me out ever since I was little and-” A couple tears slip. “I’m sorry if I'm making a big deal out of it but--” Michael pulls you to his chest and let you cry. Deep down you can’t believe your making fake zombies ruin your makeup and final stretch of a great date. But you can’t help how you feel.
Michael comforts your shoulder with short rubs. “Well, they won’t get you when I’m here.”
That made you smile a little. “You’ll fend them off for me?”
“If I have to grab the nearest stick and beat em down for ya’ then I’ll do that.”
“Wouldn’t you be scared though?” You look up to him.
“Won’t have time to be scared when I got you to worry about.” Heat burns your cheeks.
“Such a man.” You tease, but behind that was your painful need to kiss him so bad.
You two stay there, staring at the moonlight. Michael’s thumb caresses your upper arm while you snuggle as close you can get on his chest. A faint smile creeps when you feel a soft peck on your forehead.
In an alternate reality where those zombies were real, you would seek refuge in Michael arms over any shelter. His two limbs provided a warmth that can’t be replicated.
10:56 PM
Seeing the faux gold 72 on your front door brought relief that you made it safe.
“We arrived. That’ll be a dollar and ten cents.” Mike puts out his hands towards you with his fingers motioning back and forth to pay up.
You scoff. “In your dreams.”
Michael snickers like a kid as your key goes in the gold chipped doorknob. A few moves unlocks your sanctuary, and you push it just enough to crack it. You turn to see Mike giving you a stare with a lot of weight behind it. He wasn’t smiling but he didn’t look upset either, just observing. The hypocrisy of hating being perceived but loving his attention duels in your mind.
You tilt your head. “What?”
He doesn’t answer but instead goes to play with a piece of your hair idly. You usually hate making long eye contact but with Mike, everything past his eyes was a blur. Without you noticing, your chin was titled to Michael’s liking. Your eyes lower to his two-toned lips and his subtle mustache that was the cherry on top of his appeal.
He moves forward and you follow his lead, creating a kiss made of sugar, popcorn, and spices of sensuality. Both of his palms adjust your head so he can find the right angle to transfer his passion on your delicate, glossy lips.
You don’t care how time works; that moment in time froze and it was just you two. The kiss is a perfect portrait of your relationship, comfortable but not explicit. Funny enough, it can be compared to one of those mild chicken wings you two had at diner. A little heated to make an impact but not too spicy to handle. Feathers cover your stomach at the thought that there are levels above this one.
You pull away with a small spit line extending before popping off on Michael’s lips. Your lungs, heart, and lips had to recover that minute of eternity. Michael looks down with a shy smile. “Um...”
“Wow.” You interject.
“I couldn’t help myself. You’re just so beautiful and...” Michael rubs the back of his head. “I’m sorry I should have asked.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just surprised. I usually initiate when we kiss.”
Michael lets out a little laugh. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know what came over me. I do know that I’m crazy about ya.” He pauses and looks up. “I hope this continues for a long time.”
Your eyes soften to express something unexplainable. “I hope so too. I love you so much.”
“I love you more.” He pulls you to his chest and holds you tight. Your two souls melt into one another. Everything feels aligned. Everything is right.
The worst part of this date is you pulling away and giving him one last loving look before heading inside. The last image of Mike tonight was his large brown eyes paired with a kind smile. A look that destroys any unpleasant feeling you had today.
After closing the door with your backside, you slide down until your butt hits the floor. Staring at the floor, you sit there for a couple minutes processing the whole evening. When that kiss encores, a high-pitched squeal erupts from your throat. Your feet kicks and you bury your head on your knees, releasing something that’s been stored and build upon with each interaction with Mike.
Settling in your bubble bath, your mind has no choice but to rewind the night like a cherished rom com. Your brain pokes fun of your heart for clinging on to these recent moments shifting into memories.
You had boyfriends and flings before Mike and even though half of them ended up being dickwads, the other half gave you good memories to laugh back on. But compared to Michael, the emotions they made you felt seems elementary. Like they were appetizers before the main course. A lengthy prologue before the real love story begins.
He vividly shows up in your mind unannounced. His smooth melanin skin. His cool red jacket. His juicy Jheri curls. His subtle mustache. His soft, wide eyes. His shy smile. His gentle but charming, playful personality. All of these little things that made your Michael.
You feel yourself getting sleepy, so you hop out the bath, pat yourself dry, then wrap your bathrobe around your damp body. Falling face forward on the bed, the dry, plump sheets made you too lazy to dress in your pajamas. Your eyes were getting heavier by the minute until the telephone rings, jolting you up to answer it.
“Hello?”
“I’m home.” That familiar soft-spoken voice tickled your heart again.
“Hm?”
“You wanted me to call you when I got home, remember.”
“Oh, yeah. Wait, why did it take you so long? We don’t live that from far each other.”
“No car.”
You slap your head. “Right. Sorry, I’m really tired. I’m asking a lot of dumb questions, huh?”
“No, you’re fine. I’m starting to get sleepy too.”
You release a long yawn. “I hate that I got work in the morning after nights like this. I had so much fun.”
You can feel Mike’s smile from the other line. “I’m glad. Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay.” Your fingers twirl the coil cord as you look down at your dresser. You wanted to talk with him all night, but you just know you’ll regret it in the morning when sleep deprivation hits.
“Sweet dreams.”
“Bye.” The call clicks and you lay the phone down.
The last bit of strength you have manages to dress you in your pajamas and shut most of your lights off. You force your heart to stop making your mind think of Michael. You’ll never get any sleep if he shows up again.
October 31st , 1983 – Monday
10:20 AM
This was one of those rare days when you didn’t rush to go to class.
“Bye baby!” You tell your cat. The black cat’s meows gave you the motivation to get through the day.
Locking the door, you push forward with a small smile on your face. You can finally get a good seat on the bus--
“Rawr!”
“Aaah!” You scream.
Mike laughs mischievously. You slap his chest. “Michael! You scared the life out of me!”
“Your face was priceless!” He claps. “Hahaha!”
“That-That wasn’t even scary.”
“Oh please you screamed so loud the whole complex probably heard ya’. You were super scared.”
“I wasn’t that scared.” You put on a brave front.
He cocked his head to the side with a small smirk. His dark eyes track your features. “Yeah, you were scared.”
His proximity to your face was too much to deal with this early in the morning. You turn from him and pout. Mike’s humorous high settles down and walks over to wrap his arms around your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your cheek.
“Hmph.” You’re not budging.
“I can make it up to you.” He turns you towards him and peppers your face and neck with kisses. You melt with each quick smooch, struggling to keep a grudge. He pulls back and does a quick scan of your hair, makeup and outfit. “You look real pretty. Prettier than usual.”
You blush and look to your kitten heels to avoid his gaze. “Thanks.”
Mike lifts your chin and traces the outline of your jaw. “Pretty young thang.”
“You sound like a dirty old man.” You laugh.
He chuckles, “Be quiet.”
Walking together, you notice Mike wearing a fuchsia Mickey Mouse sweater over a plaid shirt with a bow tie and brown pants. You shake your head and smile to yourself. He must be feeling festive today.
Looking forward you see a familiar gingerbread brown 1978 Chevrolet Caprice parked close. You gasp and look to Mike who looked at you with a knowing stare. “Suprise.”
“Wait I thought it would be done--”
“A buddy of mine got it done early. He’s really good at fixing cars.”
You just stood there, too surprised to know what to do next.
“Well, get in! I’m taking you to class.” He flashes his million-dollar smile when he opens the passenger car door.
You squeal and get in. One of your favorite places is Michael’s car. There’s so many sweet and fun memories that happened in this Chevy. You watch Michael walk over to his side, your heart racing in anticipation. Mike looks at you when he settles in. “Ready?”
You reach over to the radio. “Mmhm.”
The Chevy rides across the stretches of hard grey like butter. The beach passing by perfumes its sea salt, waking up your brain. Mike hums along the song on the radio as his hand taps on the outside of his car door. He turns to you, risking a clear view of the road to see your hair blow majestically. It was too beautiful to ignore.
“The wind too much for ya?” He rubs over the stocking of your left thigh. You feel a heat that was slightly more intense than a couple days ago. It seems like the day you two become intimate is inching closer after small stuff like this. It makes you nervous just thinking about it.
You turn to him as some of your hair flies in front of your eyes and wide smile. “Nope. I love it!”
He nods and turns his attention back to the road.
The ocean in the distance speeds by your eyes just like those cinematic flicks. All This Love by DeBarge plays inside and outside the car cradled by the October morning breeze. Sugary, playful words and laughter sandwiched the warmth of our chest, shielding our beating hearts from the chills.