Back to You

August 2003
Lauren didn’t like his room like this. It made everything seem too final. Too real.
She sat on Michael’s bed, looking around at the bare walls, at the clutter of boxes scattered around his floor, at his half-empty closet.
She’d had the entire summer to come to terms with the fact that he was leaving. After all, that’s what people did when they graduated; they went off to college.
Except he wasn’t going off to college. He was moving to New York. His friend Jay’s cousin lived out there, about a half hour north of New York City, and he’d offered both of them a place to stay until they decided what they wanted to do with themselves after graduating.
Maybe that was what made it so difficult to accept. The uncertainty of it all. The fact that he didn’t have a plan. Or maybe it was the fact that he was leaving without a reason. He wasn’t going to school. He wasn’t offered a job. He had nothing out there to call his own. So why did he have to go? Why couldn’t he decide what he wanted to do with his life right here? Why couldn’t he figure it all out in the house that was a mere seven minutes away from Lauren’s, where she could still see him whenever she wanted?
Lauren chewed her lip as she picked at her nail polish. She knew that was an incredibly selfish way of looking at it { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: gsi
She glanced up at him. He was still looking down at the picture she’d just given him, the one she took of them at his graduation a few weeks earlier. There was something behind his eyes that made her feel sad, even though his lips were curved into a smile.
“Thanks Red,” he said, holding up the picture before he turned and placed it between two folded articles of clothing in the box in front of him.
Lauren shrugged. “Something to remember me by.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t get dramatic,” he said with a laugh, tossing a crumpled T-shirt at her.
She tried to smile as she dodged it, but it was forced. There was an ache in her chest that fluttered every time she looked at him.
Michael reached into his closet, pulling a handful of shirts off their hangers and dropping them on the dresser in front of him, and then he began folding them and putting them in the box by his feet.
“So…what are you gonna do out there?” Lauren asked.
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll work. Maybe I’ll go to school. Maybe I’ll make it as a gigolo.”
Lauren laughed and threw the T-shirt back at him, and it landed over the back of his head. He reached up and pulled it off, casting a smile over his shoulder before he tossed it to the pile on his dresser.
“Will you come home?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer right away, her smile fell. “You know, for holidays and stuff?”
She watched him put another shirt in the box before he shook his head.
“You won’t come back at all?” she asked, a touch of panic seeping into her voice.
Michael turned toward her. “We’ll still see each other, Red. You can come visit me whenever you want. But…I can’t come back here.” He turned back toward the box and pulled a shirt from the top of the dresser. “I need to erase this place. Get away from the f*cking disaster I’ve created here.”
Disaster? She would have laughed if he didn’t sound so upset. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
“Come on, Michael. No one cares about what happens in high school. So you got in a few fights. Getting suspended doesn’t really count as major life errors.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His words were clipped, and Lauren looked up at him. His back was still to her, but he had tensed visibly.
She pulled her brow together. “Well then, what are you talking about?”
He stood like that for a minute, saying nothing. Then he dropped his head, shaking it slowly.
“What is it?” she asked softly. “Tell me.”
He turned and looked at her, laughing humorlessly. “Well, I guess I got nothing to lose now, right?”
A strange feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at his words. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
Michael leaned back against his dresser, his eyes on her. “You know my dad left when I was five. But do you want to know why?”
Lauren blinked at him. She had never broached this subject with him, and she had no idea why he would be bringing it up now.
“If you want to tell me.”
“Because he found out I was@”ck you to someone else’s kid. Turns out my mom cheated on him, and I was the souvenir.”
A heavy lump settled in Lauren’s stomach as she tried to keep her face composed. She had no idea what to say to that.
“He wanted nothing to do with my mother, and nothing to do with me,” Michael continued. “He packed his shit that night, and the next morning he was gone.”
“Michael,” she said softly, the word sounding somewhat strangled despite her best effort.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “He came back for my brother a few times. But seeing me and my mom made him so miserable that eventually he moved to California. So because of the bastard child he couldn’t stand looking at, Aaron ended up losing his real dad.”
Her shoulders dropped as she shook her head, opening her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“Oh, but that’s not all. Because you also know that Aaron died three years later.” He paused, almost like he was assessing her. “Do you know how?”
Yet another thing they’d never talked about. Why was he doing this now? His tone of voice was casual as he spoke to her, overly so, but his eyes were intense, almost wild.
It made her uneasy.
She wrapped her arms around herself, and when she spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “I heard it was a car accident.”
He nodded. “Yep. He got behind the wheel of a car completely shitfaced and flipped it. Wrapped it around a tree.” He turned back to his shirts before he looked over his shoulder with a wry smile. “So now you know why I almost beat that kid’s ass the first day of Health.”
She looked up at him.
“For talking shit about the stupidity of drunk drivers,” he clarified. He laughed, but it was empty. “I still can’t believe you never asked me to explain that. It was one of my favorite things about you in the beginning.”
Lauren dropped her eyes and swallowed hard, trying to process what he’d just told her.
“Do you want to know why he did it?” he asked, tossing a folded shirt haphazardly into the box.
“Who?”
“My brother. You want to know why he was driving drunk?”
Lauren lifted her eyes, looking at him cautiously.
He turned back to face her. “Because I made him. My mom dumped me off at some stranger’s house to get rid of me for the night, and I called him bitching and moaning because I was scared. And so he got in that car, even though he shouldn’t have, because I begged him to come get me. And he did.” Michael shrugged again. “And we never made it home.”
Lauren was blinking quickly against the growing sting behind her eyes, and she wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself as she looked away from him. She had always known the pieces of the story, that his dad and brother were gone, but filling in the blanks, learning the specifics, felt like getting punched in the stomach.
“So that’s the story of Michael Delaney,” he said, resuming his folding. “The delinquent kid who tore his family apart and needs to get the hell out of here.”
She couldn’t speak. She could barely even process what he’d just told her. The circumstances of the losses he suffered were so awful, and he had to deal with the aftermath completely alone. My God, what would it feel like to have no family? Especially when you needed one the most? { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: before n the
“Do you know who your real dad is?” she asked softly.
“No. My mom wouldn’t talk about it, so I just stopped asking.”
She bit her lip. “You could find him, you know.”
“I don’t want to find him.”
After a second, Michael looked over his shoulder. She must have looked surprised, because he tilted his head at her.
“Come on, Red. Can’t you just see it? An eighteen-year-old idiot showing up on some guy’s doorstep.” He smiled a huge fake smile as he spoke with overdone enthusiasm. “Hey, remember that married woman you screwed all those years ago? Well, here I am! How’s it goin’, Pop?”
His face turned serious as the insincere excitement drained away. “I just don’t have a dad. I’ve accepted that.” He turned back around and grabbed another shirt. “I don’t want to have to prove myself to anyone.”
Too much. It was just too much. Lauren felt like she was pinned to his bed as she watched him.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”
“I don’t talk about this with anyone.”
“But it’s me.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Exactly. You didn’t see me as the a*shole everyone else did. And after hearing all this, how can you not?”
“Because it’s not your fault.”
Michael rolled his eyes and turned back to his shirts. “Here we go,” he said under his breath as he resumed packing.
“It isn’t.”
“You know, maybe I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hear this exoneration bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” she said, her voice gaining strength. “Your mother was the one who was unfaithful. Your mother made the choice. You were innocent.”
He slammed a folded shirt into the box, causing Lauren to jump. “My brother?” he nearly growled, his back still to her.
“Michael, you were eight years old. You were scared. Your brother was always your protector. How could you have known? And it was your brother’s decision to—”
“Look,” he said, whirling on her. “I’ve lived with this all my life. I’ve come to terms with my role, so stop trying to blow smoke up my ass!”
He whipped back around, resuming his folding in rough, choppy movements, and suddenly whatever was pinning her to the bed reversed its hold, catapulting her away from it.
She was off the bed before she’d even made the decision to move, ripping the shirt out of his hands and slamming it down on the dresser.
He looked down at her, stunned.
“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass! Don’t you dare say that to me! When have I ever lied to you? I give it to you straight all the time, even when you don’t want to hear it!”
He stared at her for a second before he dropped his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She placed her hand on his chest, and he lifted his eyes again. “You’re blaming yourself for other people’s decisions,” she said firmly. “It’s not your fault, and I’m saying it because it’s the truth.@ there"> shoulder”
He looked at her before he shook his head gently. She could see it in his eyes, that he genuinely didn’t believe what she was saying. And suddenly, it struck her why.
In that moment, she was overcome with such a rush of anger that it startled her.
“You’ve been conditioned this way because of her,” she said through a clenched jaw as she gestured angrily downstairs. “Because she made you feel guilty for it all. And it’s disgusting.” She was trying so hard to remain calm, but her voice was shaking with the effort.
“When your dad left, you lost a father because of her bad choices. She should have owned that! And you wouldn’t have had to call Aaron that night if she didn’t dump you off instead of being a mother!”
She was yelling now, but she couldn’t help it. She hated that woman. She physically hated her, with the full force of her entire body and soul. “When Aaron died, you lost someone too! She should have made right what she wronged! She was the adult! You were just a kid, for Christ’s sake!”
Michael was staring off over her head; his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Lauren felt her anger waver.
She hated her.
But she loved him.
And he didn’t need to be yelled at over this. He’d suffered enough because of what his mother had done.
She reached for his hand, clasping it gently. “And the fact that she shut you out?” she said, her voice much softer but still shaking. “That was yet another awful decision that she made. She was wrong. Not you. You were the victim of all this, not the cause. Can’t you see that?”
He was still staring off over her head, but Lauren saw a muscle flex in the side of his jaw.
He shook his head in response.
That’s when she noticed it. The glassy shine of tears in his eyes, threatening to fall.
She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around his waist as she dropped her forehead against his chest. Instantly, his arms came around her as he pressed his face into the crown of her head. She could feel his breath in her hair, somewhat unsteady as he fought to regain control over his emotions, and she tightened her hold on him.
She wanted to consume him, just hug him so tightly that he disappeared somewhere within her body, where she could protect him.
Where she could keep him forever.
She squeezed him tighter, planting a kiss on his chest, and suddenly the trembling breath in her hair became something else. She felt it hitch again, but it was different this time.
Lauren could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, the way it started thumping irregularly, and she knew it was a different feeling he was struggling to contain now.
This was it. Her last chance. He had told her once, “If you really want something, you shouldn’t stop until you get it, no matter what you have to do.”
And there was nothing in her life she’d ever wanted more than him.
She raised her head so that her chin was resting on his chest, and he tilted his, looking down at her, his eyes still shining with unshed tears.
Then she went up on her toes and kissed him.
The last time they had kissed all those months ago, it had been frantic. Urgent.
This was soft. Tender. Almost reverent.
All at once, his hands were on her face, her fingertips were trailing over his back, and his taste was on her lips, just as she remembered it.
“Lauren,” he said between kisses, the word both a plea and a warning.
“Just kiss me, Michael,” she breathed. “Just kiss.”
And he brought his mouth back to hers.
Lauren removed her hands from under his shirt and slid them up around his neck, pulling him further down into the kiss. She felt his arms tighten around her waist, and suddenly she was off the floor.
With their faces at the same level, the kiss intensified, and for a second, they were as needy as they’d been that night on his floor before his friends interrupted them.
But then he pulled back, lowering her back to the floor as he slowly released his hold around her waist.
Lauren shook her head slightly, using her hands on his neck to keep his mouth on hers once she reached the floor again. He obliged, but his kiss was gentle. Too gentle.
It felt like he was ending it.
She wasn’t going to give in that easily. Not this time.
Lauren took a step back, bringing him with her, and when the backs of her knees hit his bed, she lay back onto it. He went with her, catching himself on his hands and immediately positioning himself on his side, leaving several inches in between their bodies. He was still kissing her, but what had started out as worshipful and progressed to frenzied now seemed almost cautious.
Lauren slid her hand over his waist and gripped his shirt, pulling him on top of her.
He made a small noise, but Lauren couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or protest.
When she leaned up to kiss him, he pulled back slightly, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.
“I want to,” she whispered.
He swallowed, shaking his head imperceptibly. “I told you, I can’t.”
“I’m not a virgin,” she blurted out.
Michael’s expression changed as he pushed himself up, supporting his weight in his arms as he stared down at her with equal parts confusion and disapproval.
“I was with Dale Arcamone.”
Michael pulled his brow together and shook his head. “What? When?” He started to get off of her, but she grabbed the sides of his shirt, stopping him.
“It was after the junior barbecue. We hung out together all day, and then we went back to his house, and one thing kind of led to another.”
She saw his eyes darken. “Did you do this because of what I said?”
Lauren looked up at him and shook her head, pressing her hips up into his body, and she watched his eyes flutter closed as his jaw flexed.
She knew in her heart this would be her last chance. It was now or never.
“It doesn’t matter why I did it. I’m not a virgin anymore, and you’re leaving tomorrow.” She took a small breath. “I’ve never asked you for anything but this.”
He still hadn’t moved, and when she gently stroked the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss, he kissed her back, but it was with obvious restraint. She could feel the set of his jaw, that he was still upset over this turn of events.
She didn’t want him to be upset. She wanted him to be as lost as she was.
Lauren slid her hands back under his { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: an"> shoulder shirt, digging her fingertips into his back as she kissed him more passionately. And when she lifted her hips again, pressing up into his body, he seemed to forget he was supposed to be upset.
The tension left his jaw as he lowered his body back onto hers, gripping her hip as he kissed her with something Lauren thought felt a lot like possessiveness.
As soon as she felt him give in, she was instantly overcome with both triumph and guilt.
It had only been a few minutes ago that she reminded him she’d never lied to him.
And now, she’d no longer be able to claim that.
Michael broke the kiss, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt off in one swift movement. Lauren barely had time to admire him before his mouth was back on hers, and his hands were tugging at the sides of her shorts.
She brought her hands to the button, fumbling with it as she kissed him, and once she had them opened, he lifted off of her, pulling them quickly down her legs. She took the opportunity to pull her tank top over her head, flinging it somewhere on the other side of the room.
His eyes ran over her body once, and then they flashed to hers as he exhaled heavily, lowering his mouth back onto hers. Without hesitation, she reached between them and started working on the button of his jeans.
She was rushing. She knew she should be savoring it, but she couldn’t bring herself to slow down. She was so afraid he was going to change his mind, and she briefly wondered if he was rushing for the same reason.
In a matter of minutes, they were both stripped bare, and Michael was leaning over the side of his bed and reaching into his nightstand.
Lauren kept her hands on his waist and her eyes closed, trying to keep her breathing even.
This was going to happen. This was actually going to happen. She bit her lip at the sudden ridiculous urge to laugh.
But when he came back and positioned himself over her, laughing was the furthest thing from her mind.
Then he entered her, stopping when he met resistance.
Stopping when he heard the quiet whimper.
She tried to stifle the sound, she really did, but she had no idea it would be that intense.
He was completely frozen above her, and when she finally opened her eyes and looked up at him, she knew that he knew. His eyes were wide with some combination of shock and horror.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
His eyes fell closed as he dropped his head. He still hadn’t moved.
“It’s already done, Michael,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding small. “Don’t stop now. Please.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. There were so many emotions flashing behind his eyes that she didn’t know which one to appeal to.
She knew she only had seconds.
Lauren brought both hands up to his face, forcing him to look at her. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve given me a part of you that you haven’t given anyone else. And now I’m finally getting to do the same.”
His eyes fell closed again, and this time, he almost looked pained.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” she whispered. “I’ll never regret that it was you.”
Michael exhaled slowly as Lauren looked up at him, studying his face: his full lips, his cheeks flushed with emotion, his eyelashes fanned out beneath his closed eyes. He { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: before n the looked so young in that moment. So vulnerable.
And right then, her heart broke for the little boy who wasn’t taken care of, but it swelled for the person who, despite everything, was able to maintain such kindness inside him, regardless of what everyone else thought they knew about him.
And she realized right then, even if she never felt it again for the rest of her life, she knew what true, unadulterated love felt like.
She ran her thumb softly over his cheek, and he opened his eyes.
This time, when he looked at her, there wasn’t a trace of fear behind them. It was replaced with something so intense, so real, she felt goose bumps prickle over her skin.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Michael lowered his head as he pressed his lips to hers.
She knew this was his surrender, and her heart raced in her chest with the realization.
“If you want me to stop, just tell me and I will,” he whispered against her mouth.
She nodded quickly, kissing him back, and then he was moving again.
Lauren hadn’t prepared herself for what it would feel like. For the first few minutes, all she could do was concentrate on trying not to give away how much she was hurting. She kept reminding herself that it was Michael. That he was holding her. And inside of her. And they were as close as two people could possibly be.
And even if it was nothing like she expected, it was still everything she wanted.
She gripped him tighter and he answered in kind. Every inch of their bodies was touching, and Michael buried his face in the side of her neck as he exhaled her name.
At the tenderness of the gesture, Lauren closed her eyes. Her hand immediately came to the back of his head, holding him there as she felt tears welling behind her closed lids. And when he gently kissed her neck, she couldn’t stop them from spilling out over her temples. Michael lifted his head slowly, his face brushing the side of hers.
He must have felt the moisture there because he whipped his head up and froze, his expression alarmed.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No no,” she assured him, rubbing her hand over his back. “You’re perfect. This is perfect.”
He looked down at her, gauging her honesty, and she smiled softly, a tiny laugh falling from her lips as two more tears slid over her temples.
Michael smiled sadly, brushing one of the tears away before he leaned down and pressed his lips to the salty trail.
He began moving again, but it was so slow, so careful, she could tell it was with tremendous effort. She could feel the muscles of his back trembling beneath her hands.
Michael pressed his forehead to hers, and Lauren slid her hands up to the backs of his shoulders and closed her eyes, trying to take in every second. Trying to memorize it. The feel of his weight on top of her, the sound of his labored breathing, the scent of his skin. And while she was concentrating on that, something incredible happened. The burning, the throbbing ache between her legs gradually subsided, and in its wake came a pleasant stretching. A warm friction.
Lauren could feel the rigidity slowly leave her thighs as she gave herself up to the new feeling, and she found that the more she relaxed, the better it felt.
As soon as the last bit of tension left her body, Michael exhaled heavily in what seemed like relief, dropping his head onto her shoulder.
“Lauren?”
“Oh { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: an"> shoulder…wow,” she breathed in response, and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin. “This is…I didn’t know. Now you feel…” She closed her eyes and shook her head before she sighed. “I can’t think. Just keep going.”
He chuckled softly before he dropped his weight to his elbows, cradling her face in his hands as he kissed her. He was still incredibly gentle, but the tension had left his body too. He moved freely now, and his breath grew ragged, washing across her face every time he exhaled. Lauren lifted her chin, savoring the feel of it.
They began moving in unison, Lauren raising her hips to meet him, and it drew the most incredible sounds from his lips.
She could feel the smooth skin of his stomach brushing against hers, the tautness of his muscles as his arms flexed around her, pulling her closer, the silky friction between her legs, the warm rush of his breath on her skin.
It was sensory overload.
And when she felt his body go tense again, this time he fell forward, groaning into her hair, and she smiled.
There were no bells and whistles for her. No explosions. No seeing stars. But she wouldn’t have changed a thing.
It was the single most incredible experience of her life.
When Michael finally caught his breath, he slowly rolled off of her, immediately pulling her back against his chest. Lauren closed her eyes, and for a few minutes they just lay there in silence as Michael held her, running his fingertips up and down her arm.
“I feel like I should say thank you, but that doesn’t seem right,” she said lazily.
Michael laughed softly behind her. “Thank you? Are you gonna leave some money on the dresser on your way out?”
She probably should have been embarrassed, but all she could do was laugh. She was completely drunk with him; her body felt deliciously warm and heavy. “You know what I mean,” she sighed.
He pulled her further against his chest. “I know.” He pressed his lips into her hair and whispered, “And if anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.”
She turned her head and looked up at him, but there was no laughter behind his eyes.
She lifted her chin and kissed him gently before snuggling back against him.
They laid there in comfortable silence, Michael continuing to trail his fingertips over her skin, and Lauren wished there was a way to stop time. She just wanted to stay where she was.
And she desperately wished he could stay where he was.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” she asked, hating the words as they left her mouth.
“Early. Probably sun up.”
Lauren glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It was almost midnight.
She swallowed, trying to keep her voice even. “Should I go then?”
Michael shook his head behind her. “I’m not ready for you to go.”
Lauren closed her eyes. “Me either,” she sighed.
And she fell asleep right there in his arms, with him planting feather-light kisses in her hair.

She was half asleep and the sun hadn’t fully risen when she felt a hand brushing the hair away from her face.
She was too tired to open her eyes, but all at once, the memory of { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: an"> shoulder where she was and what had happened came back to her.
“Are you mad at me?” she murmured sleepily.
“No. I could never be mad at you.” His voice seemed far away, even though he was right next to her.
Maybe she was dreaming.
She felt him press his forehead to hers. Her eyes were still closed, but she smiled.
“Call me when you get there.”
For a second, there was only silence.
And just as she lost the battle with sleep, she heard his faint whisper. “Good-bye, Lauren.”
A few hours later, the sun was shining through his window, bathing her in warmth and light, and she finally opened her eyes. Lauren vaguely remembered having a conversation with him earlier that morning, but she wasn’t sure if she had dreamed it or not.
But she knew what had happened between them the night before wasn’t a dream, and she recalled every detail with perfect clarity, grinning like a fool as she buried her face in his pillow.
She stood up, grabbed her things, got dressed, and straightened his sheets, smiling the entire time.
And when she slid into the driver’s seat of her car, she closed the door, dropped her head back, covered her face with her hands, and screamed.
She had never done drugs before, but she could imagine being high felt this way, and she could understand why people got addicted to it. Her body tingled, she couldn’t stop smiling, and as she drove home, she alternated between wanting to close her eyes and melt back into the seat, or slam on the brakes, jump out of the car, and run squealing in circles around it.
On her way home she called Jenn to corroborate stories about where she’d been the night before, and when she told her what had happened, Jenn shrieked with excitement, ever the good friend, and offered to come over later to celebrate.
Lauren made it home, existing somewhere in a vacuum and functioning on autopilot. She cleaned her room. She baked cookies. She took a nap. She rehashed every detail with Jenn several times over. And that night, she called Michael.
But there was no answer. Nor did he answer her call the following morning.
Or that afternoon.
By the following night, she started to panic, thinking maybe he’d gotten into an accident, that something had gone wrong.
And just as she was planning her last resort, calling Jay to see if she could get a hold of him, she got his e-mail.
How he guessed he hadn’t made himself clear the last time they had spoken. That if he was really going to start over, he’d need some time away from everything in his past to do it—and that included her. He pointed out how busy she’d be with her senior year coming up, and he assured her she’d hardly miss him. He reminded her that he’d moved to New York to get some distance, and she needed to respect that. He ended the short note by saying that when he finally had everything figured out, he’d be the one to contact her.
But she never heard from Michael Delaney again.