CHEMISTRY [MICHAEL JACKSON]

06.

"Leah, what did you get on the chemistry quiz?" Michael asked me, taking a seat in my swivel chair at my desk.

"A 75%. Better than what I thought I'd get." I honestly told him, sitting on my bed. "What did you get?"

"I got an 89%." He smiled before eyeing the stack of records on my desk that he had taken out only days ago. "You still haven't organized those albums yet?"

"No. I haven't." I chuckled lightly. "Organizing alphabetically takes time. Time that I don't have."

"I'll help you. We can get started right now and the time will pass by quickly. We don't have to study anything since you got the hang of it. Plus, Ms. Irving will be teaching us a brand new concept soon." Michael explained.

"That's true." I said, not knowing what else to say. I walked over to where my huge stack of records sat and grabbed them. I sat on the floor by where my record collection shelves were.

I let out a sigh of relief, realizing that Madonna's Material Girl record was on top of Stevie Wonder's My Cherie Amour record. "So we can leave these for the M section."

Michael took them from me and placed them in an individual pile.

I found Born In The USA by Bruce Springsteen and Body Language by Queen, and set them in a separate pile dedicated to the records that began with 'B'.

"If only my record collection wasn't so extensive," I sighed, as Michael suddenly grabbed both of my hands.

"Leah, no. Your record collection is simply incredible. I like it so much." He smiled and looked at the stack of records. "Let's get to it, girl!"

I giggled and we began to categorize.

Michael gasped, as if he had a dilemma. "Hold on." A smile began to form on his face. "You're into Sugarhill Gang?"

"Yes, of course." I winked at him, not believing such a person as him was into Sugarhill Gang.

"Check it out, I'm the C-A-S-A, the N-O-V-A, and the rest is F-L-Y. You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix, and these reasons I'll tell you why. You see, I'm six foot one, and I'm tons of fun. When I dress to a T, you see, I got more clothes than Muhammad Ali." Snapping his fingers, Michael rapped the first bit Rapper's Delight, an actual favorite of mine.

"Oh my," I spoke to myself, giggling at Michael, who continued to rap the song. Gradually, he leaned in closer to me as he was still rapping. He leant into me in a subtle way, but I was observing his every move. I was already blushing deeply at our closeness. I slowly directed my eyes to meet his and as soon as we made eye contact, our lips were connected.

"Sorry." Michael pulled away instantly, backing up further from me than he was originally. He sat against the wall.

It was very awkward.

I didn't know why he felt the need to kiss me.

Hell, I didn't need to know either.

It was magical. Exhilarating even.

"Sorry again." Michael quickly blurted out, bringing his hands to his cheeks to hide his obvious blush. "I-I-It won't happen again."

It was the cutest thing ever, I swear.

"Oh," I said, feeling myself blush extremely. I brought my fingers to my lips, where he had put his own only moments prior to doing so. "I-I-It's okay."

"Lost in the moment, I guess."

How does Rapper's Delight by Sugarhill Gang get one lost in the moment?

"Didn't know that could be possible." I pointed out.

"Anything is possible, Leah. I told you we've got a bit of chemistry going on anyway." He shrugged with a smile and shuffled the albums that were in the unorganized stack. "So here is the 'M' category. We just need to gather these--" I interrupted his statement, by leaning forward towards him and gently pressing my lips to his.

I did it.

The shyest person on the planet kissed Michael Jackson.

I couldn't believe it.

"W-what was that for?" Michael began to lightly scratch his Afro before his hand went to rub the back of his neck. He was embarrassed, but I wasn't sure if I should've done that.

"Lost in the moment, I guess." I shrugged and went back to stacking my records back on the shelf in order.

Michael gently lifted my chin up to kiss my lips once again. I was becoming weak in my knees. Butterflies were flying in my stomach. My heart was fluttering.

I was becoming numb.

"We're lost in this moment together."

"I guess we are." I smiled and my bedroom door flew opened.

There stood my father.

"Why are all these albums out again?" My father interrogated before glaring Michael down. "Dammit, boy! Do you just come to make to make a mess of her room? God!"

"We're just re-organizing them, sir." Michael explained to him. I preferred if Michael didn't say anything to him because my father was extremely unpredictable.

"I thought I told you to get the hell out of my house if you weren't going to tutor my baby girl," My father mentioned to Michael, causing him to nod slowly.

"I apologize." Michael said quickly. "I'll leave now if you'd like."

"That is exactly what I would like. Thank you." My father nodded and left the room.

Michael sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow in class, right?"

"Of course, Michael."

Michael flashed a smile at me and went out of my room. I saw him walking down the street as I got up to look out one of my bedroom windows.

I was the most elated girl in the world at that point in time.

Michael Jackson, and I kissed.

Three times.

I happily sighed, knowing that I was getting just a little closer to what I've always dreamt of being.

His.