Hard To Believe

Chapter Seventeen

When Micky and Rosemary arrived back at the pad, the others had, in fact, woken up. Mike and Davy were playing a round of cards, while Peter watched them, bored out of his skull. When they heard Micky and Rosemary enter, Mike and Davy placed their cards facedown, making Peter jump to his feet, a relieved look dawning upon his face.

"Thank God," he breathed. "I thought I was gonna die, watching these two idiots."

"You didn't have to watch us, Pete," Mike chuckled. "Anyway, where'd you two go?"

"Take a guess," Micky rolled his eyes, gesturing towards his and Rosemary's wet clothes. "So... who's hungry?"

"I'll give you a hand," Rosemary offered.

She followed Micky into the little kitchen. While they made breakfast, Davy, Peter, and Mike went back to their card game. Rosemary silently sighed through her nose as she placed the plates on the table. In truth, she only wanted to help Micky because she didn't really want to be in the same room as Davy. She wasn't as comfortable around him like she used to be. Things were different.

Once breakfast was ready, everyone was sitting around the table. Rosemary sat herself between Mike and Peter. She went into conversation with Peter as she chewed on turkey bacon. Peter, she'd learned for the past few weeks, was smarter than he was in the show. In the show, he played as the "dummy". In reality, however, he truly was intelligent.

"The show looks like fun," Rosemary giggled when Peter told her of one of the episodes, Monkee vs. Machine.

"It is," Peter grinned. "It's like... we get to be ourselves, but in a more hyper way. If that makes any sense at all."

"No, I get it," Rosemary sighed deeply. "Wow. People would kill to be in your places."

"Yeah... or our beds."

Rosemary's head snapped back up in surprise. The boys around her laughed in response. She wasn't sure whether they were laughing at the joke or at the profuse blush that crept up to her cheeks. It wasn't necessarily the joke that made her blush - although she would've been slightly embarrassed about it anyway. It was the fact that Peter had said it. Peter.

"Bloody hell," she breathed. "You look so innocent on the outside."

"I get that a lot," Peter smirked.

"That's nothing," Micky waved it off. "Once, we were telling ghost stories, and Peter's protagonist was-"

"Micky!" Mike and Davy yelled.

"What?" Micky batted his eyelashes, playing innocent with his friends.

"We're eating right now!" Mike hissed. "This is a terrible time to tell that story!"

"I don't think I really want to know what happens anyway," Rosemary chuckled.

"Aw, that's no fun," Micky complained. "Pete really went into descriptions. Never heard anything so graphic. He-"

Mike nudged him sharply in the ribs with his elbow. Micky winced and silenced himself, pouting dramatically.

The rest of breakfast went on in cheerful conversation and laughs. The whole time, Rosemary avoided any sort of eye contact with Davy. Things were still tense between them. The night before, they'd had the longest conversation in two years. No, Rosemary doesn't hate Davy. She can't hate him. Although she can't explain why, she just doesn't.

But forgiveness? After promising to never hurt her in any way possible? Kissing another girl behind her back? He can think again and forget about damn forgiveness. It was just too much to ask for.