Mika POV:
Lily was a sweet, spirited kid, and I found myself liking her more with every minute we spent together. After she put on a movie, we ordered pizza, settling into a cozy evening. It was refreshing, and I couldn't help but admire her energy.
"I'm glad you're not like Andrew's ex, Mika," Lily said out of the blue. I laughed, touched by her sincerity.
"I like you, Lily. You're very cool. I couldn't possibly hate you, and if I ever did, it wouldn't be because of your brother," I said, hoping my words would lift her spirits a little.
"Really? Thanks," she said, her face lighting up. "Andrew told me a little about her this afternoon. She was the worst, unlike you."
Curiosity piqued, I asked, "Oh? What did she do?"
"She cheated on him with that rich guy, George Davis. She also hit him and wasn't nice to him at all," Lily explained, her voice tinged with the innocent indignation of a little sister.
"That sucks," I said, feeling a bit of pity for Andrew. No one deserves that, not even someone like him.
"Yeah, I hate her," Lily muttered, her small fists clenching in anger.
I hated seeing her upset, especially over something that wasn't her fault. "Hey, how about I take you out for ice cream?" I suggested, hoping to cheer her up.
"That would be amazing!" she exclaimed, her earlier gloom instantly forgotten.
I smiled and grabbed my keys. We hopped into my car and drove to one of her favorite ice cream shops. The place was bustling with activity, but Lily's excitement was contagious. We picked out our flavors and found a small table where we could enjoy our treat. Watching her laugh and talk animatedly about her favorite shows made me forget about everything else for a while.
When we got back, we continued our little marathon of KC Undercover, one of Lily's favorite shows. As much as she tried to push bedtime back, by 8:40, I had to put my foot down.
She groaned but eventually agreed. I followed her upstairs, waiting while she changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth. "Goodnight, Mika. I hope I'll see you again soon," she said, snuggling into her bed.
"Me too," I replied softly. "Goodnight, Lily." I turned off her light and quietly closed the door, feeling a warmth in my chest that hadn't been there when I arrived.
About an hour later, I heard Andrew come through the door, still looking as put together as when he left. "I'm home," he called out, his voice just loud enough to be heard.
"Welcome back," I said as he walked into the living room.
"And? Did Lily behave?" he asked, clearly more out of habit than actual concern.
"Yeah, she did," I replied, remembering how easy she had made the evening.
"Good," he said with a nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Andrew POV:
I grabbed a glass of water, trying to calm my nerves, and walked up to Mika. I could feel the weight of the money in my hand, and without really thinking, I pressed it into hers. Then, I moved to the other side of the couch, needing the distance to collect myself. Mika looked down at the money, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"What's this?" she asked, her tone cautious.
"Your money," I replied, keeping my voice even, though inside, I felt anything but calm.
"Why are you giving me $500?" she questioned, the confusion in her eyes deepening.
"You said you wanted $100 per hour," I reminded her, trying to make light of the situation, even though the air between us felt thick with tension.
"Yeah, as a joke," she said, her voice softening as she realized I had taken her seriously. "I don't need your money, Andrew. I have my own."
"Sure, then," I muttered, more to myself than to her. I gestured for her to put the money down on the table. It wasn't worth arguing over. She stood up, preparing to leave, and the sight of her ready to walk out stirred something desperate inside me.
"Thank you," I managed to say, though my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears.
She glanced at me, but her expression remained impassive as she turned away. I couldn't let her leave like this. The words came out before I could stop them. "Why do you hate me so much?"
She stopped, turning around slowly. "I don't hate you," she replied, but her eyes told a different storyâone filled with pain and resentment.
"Then why do you extremely dislike me?" I pressed, the words spilling out in a rush. "It can't only be the phone call, right?"
She sighed, and the sound was heavy, full of frustration and something elseâsomething deeper. "I have enough reasons," she admitted, and the way she said it made my chest tighten.
"Then tell me," I pleaded, taking a step closer. "Because you seem like you hate me for real. Whenever I breathe, move, or say anything, you're already annoyed."
"Why do you care?" she shot back, her voice tinged with irritation, but also curiosity. She wanted to know why I was pushing this.
"Because no one wants to be disliked," I said, my voice rising with the intensity of my emotions. "And especially not for no reason, or for a reason that I don't know of."
She sighed again, but this time there was something different in her eyesâa recognition, maybe even pity. "Your full name is Andrew Fitzgerald, right?"
I nodded, thrown off by the sudden shift. "Uhm, yeah." My confusion must have shown on my face because she didn't wait for me to ask how she knew that.
"Do you remember when you were at summer camp, back when you were around 12 or 13?" she asked, her voice steady, but I could sense the tension underneath.
"Yeah, I remember," I said slowly, my heart beginning to race as old memories started to surface. I didn't like where this was going.
"Don't you remember me? Mika Macklin?" she said, and in that moment, everything clicked. The name, her faceâit all came rushing back, and I felt like the ground had just dropped out from under me.
I stared at her, speechless, as the memories flooded in. Mika Macklin. The girl from summer camp. The one I hadâ
"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said, her voice cold, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. She turned to leave, but I couldn't let her go. Not after this.
I hurried after her, my hand instinctively reaching out to grab her arm. "I'm really sorry about that," I blurted out, my voice shaking with a mix of guilt and desperation. "That wasn't my intention. I was just put under a lot of pressure, and I regret it so, so much."
She pulled away from my grasp and turned to face me, her eyes hard and unyielding. "Just one thing," she said, her voice sharp and demanding. "Why did you do it? What was your purpose? What was in it for you?"
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn't know what to say. "Like I said, I got pushed by my friends, and I wasn't thinking," I mumbled, knowing even as I said it that it wasn't a good enough excuse. It wasn't any excuse at all.
"Bye, Andrew," she said, her voice final and resolute. Without another word, she walked out the door, leaving me standing there, feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.
As the door clicked shut behind her, reality sank in. She was the Mika from summer camp. The girl I had betrayed in the worst possible way. Back then, I was a messâmy dad had just died, and I was spiraling into a depression, hanging out with popular friends who treated me like crap. But none of that excused what I did to her.
I remembered it all too well now. My so-called friends had taunted me, saying I'd never get a girl, calling me gay and disgusting after I came out as bisexual. I wanted to prove them wrong, so I flirted with Mika, and eventually, I tried to kiss her. But before our lips could touch, my friends burst in, laughing and jeering. "So he actually did charm a girl, and the hottest one at that," they sneered.
I watched as Mika's face crumpled with hurt and humiliation before she ran away. I had tried to reach out to her afterward, but I couldn't find the words. She had told me she'd never kissed or liked a boy before, and I had shattered that trust, leaving her with nothing but pain.
Now, all I could feel was a deep, crushing guilt. I had wronged her in a way that couldn't be undone. The regret gnawed at me, a constant reminder of who I was back then, and how much I wished I could change it.
Feeling utterly defeated, I walked to my bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. My head throbbed with the weight of what had just happened, and all I wanted to do was escape the thoughts that wouldn't stop racing through my mind. But I knew I couldn't run from them. Not anymore.