I Can See Clearly Now

"Michael said he would do that."

"I told him I'd handle it for him since he made me breakfast."

Emma sighed again. "Let me finish this cup of coffee and get my bearings. Half hour?"

"Take your time."

Simone retreated to her room and shut the door. She heard raised voices, followed a few minutes later by the slam of the front door. She assumed their guest had just gotten himself ejected but realized she didn't much care either way. She shed her coat and flopped on her mattress. Visions of Michael crawling into bed alongside her made Simone shiver. On impulse, she grabbed her cell and dialed him.

Her heartbeat sped up when his voice came over the line. "Hey. Did you forget something? You tore out of here in a hurry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Her cheeks reddened. "No, you didn't do anything wrong at all. You were perfect. I just wanted to thank you again for breakfast, and for listening to me carry on."

"You don't have to thank me, Simone. It's what friends do for each other."

"You're more than just a friend to me, Michael. You know that, don't you?"

"I am?"

"Of course. You're..." Simone's breath caught in her throat. She stammered, "You're very special to me."

"You're special to me too." He chuckled. "You're probably my best friend."

"Am I?"

"Yeah. I love our time together. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not even for Emma." He paused. "Simone, are you alright?"

Tears blurred her vision. She clenched her eyes shut but not before tears trickled down her cheeks. She fought to control the quiver in her words. "Yeah, Michael. Sure. Can I call you back a little later?"

"You know you can."

"Okay. Bye."

Simone had just enough time to disconnect before she lost it. As soon as the call was ended she buried her face in her pillow and cried. After a few moments, her sobs tapered off. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Emma would want to get her car soon. Desiring to do anything but, Simone hoisted herself to her feet and tried to get herself together.

By the time she returned to the kitchen, Emma had also dressed, in a sweatshirt, black leggings, and ankle boots. She'd tied her hair back in a quick ponytail and she looked a good deal more awake than she had before.

Simone gazed at her friend in mounting dismay. God, she doesn't even try. She throws on plain clothes and without makeup or doing her hair, she's still gorgeous. Why would Michael even notice me?

Emma hefted a metal travel cup. "Coffee to go. You want one?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You left your hair down," Emma said. "It looks nice."

"Thanks."

They rode to campus in silence. Emma made a few attempts at conversation but after Simone responded with cold one-syllable answers, she stopped.

For her part, Simone kept her eyes focused on her windshield. All she could think of was Michael.

She pulled into the campus parking lot where her roommate had parked the day before. "All right, I guess I'll see you back at our place."

Emma looked at her. "What are you doing today?"

"I don't know, why?"

"I thought maybe we could hang out--go shopping or go grab an early dinner or something." Emma raised an eyebrow. "You know, have some girl time."

"I think I just want to go hole up in my room."

"Are you mad at me, Simone?"

She sighed. "No."

"Is this about Brandon? Look, I know he was an asshole last night, and then again this morning. He's history. I am sorry, though. I should have thrown him out right then and there, when he made that pass at you."

"It's fine, Emma. I don't have any say over your fuck buddies."

"Don't be like that. Talk to me." She touched Simone's shoulder. "I mean, you're still my best girl, no matter what happens--my best friend. You know that, right? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I said."

"Is this about Michael? Did he say something that upset you?"

"No, he didn't upset me. I just hate..." Simone clamped her mouth shut.

"Hate what?"

"I hate the way he kisses your ass, Emma." The words spilled out faster than she could stop them. "I hate that you take advantage of him, for drinks and favors and errands and everything else. He deserves better than that!"

To her credit, Emma looked away. "I know how Michael feels and I like him, just not that way. I can't help that."

"You don't have to lead him on, either."

"I probably shouldn't. But I like that he does nice stuff for me. That sounds awful, doesn't it?"

"It is awful!" Simone's fingers clenched the steering wheel with both hands. "It's fucking horrible!"

"I know, it's selfish. I'm probably taking him for granted." Emma closed her eyes for a second. "But it's not like I'm the only one. You let him do stuff for you too."

"I know that, Emma. There are two differences. One, I almost never ask him to do anything for me. I treasure what he does because he offers and I'm grateful."

"I am grateful, I just--"

Simone fought to control her volume. "Two, I do stuff for him too. I cleaned his car that week he sprained his knee and was laid up. On his birthday, I bought him a card and made a cake. What do you do? With all the stuff Michael does for us, what do you do for him? It's not a one-way friendship for me. I'm actually his friend."

Emma's face crumbled. "Simone..."

"It is so sad. He's so hung on you that he can't even see what else is out there." Tears filled Simone's eyes and she made a savage swipe with the back of her hand. "You know what else? I'm tired, Emma. I am so fucking tired of being everyone's best friend."

Her friend's lower lip trembled. "What is wrong with you?"

"Everything," Simone snapped. "Just get out, Emma. Run back to your perfect life, where every guy on the planet trips over themselves to get your attention, you throw them some pussy, and move on to the next one. I'd just like to have one guy to myself and I can't even have that!"

"But--"

"Just get the fuck out of my car!"

Emma hurried out, glaring back at Simone. "I don't know what crawled up your ass and died but you're being a complete jerk." She slammed the door of the car, climbed in her own, and drove away.

Simone watched her friend drive away. The anger drained out of her until there was only despair and sadness left. She already regretted her words but they were out and feelings had been hurt.

I hurt my oldest friend with my anger. I hurt Michael by running away this morning. I hurt myself by wallowing in what I can't have. Three for three. Simone sighed. Nice going, asshole.

She put her car in gear and headed for their apartment.

#

MICHAEL

He flopped in the stiff seat of the lecture hall, glancing back to the entrance as he did. He didn't see Simone or Emma. A grimace lit his lips, as he wondered which one he was more anxious to see.

Michael had not been able to get his mind off Simone's visit and spent most of Saturday afternoon and Sunday pondering what it meant. He kept recalling how happy she was and how much he enjoyed their time together. He realized that for the first time in a while, he hadn't thought about Emma very much. That realization was striking, as was the next that he decided he was more excited to see Simone this Monday morning.

Of course I like her, she's great but... but... He shook his head, trying to keep the walls up, trying to fence away his friendship from any other thoughts he was having. Since Saturday, it had been an ongoing battle between his head and his heart--his head telling him he was nuts and his heart open to exploring the possibility.

For the first time, it was not a battle his head was winning.

Michael glanced to the rear of the lecture hall again. Five minutes until class started and neither had arrived, which wasn't like them. He palmed his cell, wondering if he should call.

Even as he had the thought, Emma appeared at the end of the aisle, turned, and strode toward him. Just as he did every time he saw her, his gaze started at the top and worked its way down her bouncy blonde hair, the smooth skin of her face, her--

He frowned. Emma's eyes were distraught and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Everything about her clipped steps and the rigid set of her shoulders spoke of tension and upset. Michael looked past her but did not see Simone.

She sank into the set next to him without a word.

"Hey, Emma."

"Hi."

"Where's Simone?"

She sighed and waved her hand at the back of the class. "She wanted to sit back there today."

He looked over his shoulder and spotted Simone huddled at the top row in the back of the room. Though Michael would have been shocked to see her dressed as she had in his apartment, a part of him was still disappointed to see that she had reverted to her loose shirt and pants, and returned her hair to its clipped position behind her head. "Why is she sitting back there?"

Emma didn't answer.

"Are you two all right?"

"She yelled at me Saturday. We barely talked since."

He glanced back again. Misery painted Simone's face. "That doesn't sound like Simone."

"No," Emma said, "it's not like her. She's really mad at me and I'm not sure why. She said..." Her words trailed off and she stared at Michael as if seeing him for the first time. Her mouth fell open.

Michael raised his eyebrows. "She said what?"

"Oh my God." Emma's voice was soft but full of disbelief. "I must be fucking blind." She faced the front of the class and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Emma, what the hell is going on?" She looked at him again and Michael was shocked to see her eyes watering with tears. "What's wrong?"

"Michael..." She wiped her eyes and looked at the floor a moment. When she met his gaze again, he saw disappointment but also resolute purpose. 'I... I think you should go get Simone and get out of here. She loves..." Emma bit her lip. "She loves spending time with you. Maybe you can pick up her spirits."

He frowned and flicked his eyes back to where Simone sat.

Emma patted his hand. "I'll give you the class notes afterward."

He snickered. "You will?"

"Yes. I'm not helpless, Michael. Besides, don't I owe you for all the times you've helped me?"

Her words made sense. Michael looked at Simone one more time, huddled along in her obvious unhappiness. He wavered.

Emma's voice hardened. "Go, Michael. I don't need you. Simone does."

Annoyance at her tone boiled up, as did revelation. "You never did need me, did you? Or want me? And you probably never will. Right?"

Emma looked away, biting her lip again. "Right."

He stared at her for a moment. Emma was as physically attractive as she had been two minutes before but to Michael's eyes she was somehow lessened by her statement, as if a final verbal acknowledgment of her lack of interest had severed a rope holding his boat to her pier and he was now set adrift. As much as he might have expected otherwise, being cut loose did not hurt very much.

Michael grabbed his notebook and backpack, and stood. He ascended the steps, walked along the top row, and sat next to Simone. "Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

He touched her hand and she flinched. "Emma says you two had a fight."

"Yeah. I said some things Saturday that I shouldn't have. I apologized but there are still bad feelings in the air."

"Well, I can't imagine you did anything she can't forgive you for." He smiled at her. "You've been friends forever."

"It's not her, it's..."

"What?"

She sighed. "Nothing."

He glanced at the front of the classroom. Professor Dorter had yet to enter. Michael considered Emma's words and made a judgment call. "You want to get out of here?"

Simone stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. "Huh?"

"You want to skip class this once, go chill out? We can get the lecture notes from someone so we don't get behind."

Her eyes moved to Emma.

He grinned. "She offered for once, so I'm going to let her try. Yeah, I know she sucks at taking notes but it's fine. Paul Fezzari owes me one a week of notes from when he was out sick. If I need to, I'll go grovel to Dorter. Come on, you look like you could use cheering up."

A tentative smile crept over her face. "Okay."

They gathered up their stuff and slipped out the back just as their professor reached the lectern and called the class to order. Michael stopped her outside the lecture hall. "You want to get a drink or something?"

She stared at him with such intensity that he grew uneasy. "Simone?"

"Can we just hang out at your place?"

"Sure. You don't have any more classes today, right?" A shake of the head was his answer. "Okay, me neither. Maybe we can order pizza or something."

Michael's apartment building was only a few blocks off campus, in the midst of downtown Lincoln. They walked in quiet, though he could not help but catch her soft brown eyes watching him every time he turned his attention from her. It made him nervous but at the same time, he didn't mind. Fifteen minutes later, they reached his place and went in.

"Something to drink?"

"A beer?"

"Sure." He popped the top off two bottles and offered her one. She took it. "So... you want to tell me what's going on with you and Emma?"

Simone stared at the surface of his coffee table. "I told you. We had a fight."

"Simone, I've known you both for three years and you've never had a fight. It must have been something serious."

"No." She took a drink, though her eyes never rose. "I lost my temper and said some things that hurt her feelings. Emma didn't do anything wrong--I mean, at least not to me, she didn't. It was more about me being frustrated and upset over... some things I can't control."

"So you just need some time to let it blow over, right?" He sat next to her and patted her knee. "It'll be fine. Emma loves you, she won't stay mad forever. In a few days, it will be like this never happened."

She smiled. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

He grinned. "I try."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

Simone rotated her body until she faced him. Her luminous eyes fixed on his. "Do you love me too?"

"You know I do. You're one of the most important people in my life."

"More than Emma?" She stared at him, her lower lip quivering, as if his silence had given the answer she did not want to hear.

He thought of how caring and generous she was, how her laugh put him at ease, at how much they enjoyed each other's company, and just how much he looked forward to seeing her every day. She was his friend--his best friend. They got each other and meshed like two puzzle pieces cut to fit together. He took in the smooth curve of her skin, the tenderness in her eyes, and the open vulnerability she had laid bare before him--and he was both amazed to discover what had been right there before him the whole time, and appalled that he overlooked it for so long.

If I had to give up one of them forever... it wouldn't be Simone.

He faced Simone and touched her cheek, marveling at how warm her flesh was beneath his fingers. "Yes, Simone. More than I love Emma."

Their lips met. Simone's tongue poked into Michael's mouth. Her hand found his neck and held him close.

Fireworks burst behind his eyelids and his heart hammered against his ribcage. Simone's lips were soft and warm. Desire flooded his mind and his cock responded.

A second later, Simone gently separated her lips from his. A small smile crept onto her face. "Do you know how long I've waited to do that?"

"How long?"

"Three years."

"Simone, I--"

She laid a finger over his mouth. "Don't talk for now."

"But--"

"Shhh. Just let this happen today, okay? Please?"

He nodded and kissed her again.

Simone's hands crept around his head, twining into his hair. He walked his mouth down her chin and the soft skin of her neck. She held him close. Her hot, excited breath beat against his forehead. His hands drifted around her back.

She pressed her mouth to his ear. "I think we should move this to the bedroom."

Michael blinked. A kiss was one thing but she was suggesting... He hesitated, asking himself if he was just looking to bust a nut. He gazed at his friend's face. No. I adore her. I want this. "Simone, where is this coming from? This isn't like you and--"

"No, it is. Trust me." She stood and took his hand. "Come on."

His knees trembling, Michael stood and followed.

#

SIMONE

The lights in Michael's bedroom were out, leaving the room lit only by the afternoon light filtering through the thick curtains. Simone trembled but her exultant heart soared.

Oh God, I do, I want this so much.

Michael scuffed his foot on the carpet. "Simone, are you sure this is what you want?"

"I have no idea to tell you how much I want this, Michael. Please don't think. This doesn't have to change anything. Just for this afternoon, be mine. Not Emma's or anyone else's. Just mine."

"I can do that."

She kissed him again. With them now standing, she wrapped her arms around his head and held him close. She rubbed her breasts against Michael's chest. Her nipples twinged at the contact, sending a sharp ripple of pleasure bouncing through her body.

Michael found the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted. She raised her arms so he could peel it from her torso. As soon as it was free, he reached for her tee shirt and tugged it from her, leaving her in her plain white bra. Despite her fevered skin, she shivered. Michael stepped back and raked his eyes up and down her body. She smiled. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Like I will ever forget this image."

She chuckled. From the moment they kissed, her anxiety had vanished, as if the recognition that Michael would not reject her had freed her. The clouds of apprehension and self-doubt pulled back, allowing her so-long-suppressed desire to shine through. I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow but for the moment, this is exactly what I want.

Simone placed her glasses on Michael's dresser. She unclipped her hair and shook her head, swishing it back and forth to shake it free. The strands tickled her bare shoulders. She smiled at Michael and sought his lips with hers. Her busy fingers worked his shirt loose from his belt, undid the buttons one by one, and all but shoved it off his shoulders. He laughed, which turned to a startled gasp as she shoved him to the bed on his back. "Hey, take it easy."

"This is no time for easy." She leaped atop him, pinning his hand to the bed with hers. Heat rushed through her; she knew he could break her hold if he wanted but he simply gazed at her with anticipation. Simone lowered her face and brushed her mouth over his lips and chin, then down his neck. She rained light kisses on his chest and belly.

For his part, Michael held still. As she moved down and released his hands, he ran his fingers through her hair. For one nervous moment, she was afraid he was going to shove her face at his crotch but he only stroked and caressed her head, which banished her fear. She slid between his legs, undid his belt buckle, and worked his pants down. He wiggled down the bed until his knees were at the edge of the mattress and his feet were on the floor. The outline of his hard cock straining against his boxers made her breath short. She tried to pull his pants loose but grimaced when they snagged on his tennis shoes. "Why the hell couldn't you wear sandals, like every other day?"

"Too cold outside!"

Lust and impatience filled her snarl. "Kick 'em off and hurry up!"

Laughing, he did, along with his jeans.

Simone grabbed the hem of his boxers and yanked them halfway down his thighs. His erection popped loose. She snared it one hand, leaned over, and slurped it into her mouth with one smooth motion.

Michael went rigid. A groan escaped his lips.

Turgid flesh glided across her tongue and teeth. Simone paused, savoring the heat and musky taste, before dragging her lips up to the tip, puckering as it popped free. She rubbed the head against her chin and said, "Not laughing now, are you?"