A Twist of Fate SERIES (Pentatonix)

(19) LA LA LA

( MITCH )

"Mitchy!" Kirstie exclaims as soon as I open up my apartment door for her, likely looking like complete and utter shit. She tackles me in a hug, and I stumble backwards, caught by surprise but laughing a little bit. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she says, immediately pulling back, but placing her hands on my shoulders to steady me.

I laugh. "No, it's okay. You probably wouldn't be able to knock me over even if you tried."

Kirstie smiles sheepishly, and then removes her hands from my shoulders. She reaches back to shut the front door, and then asks me, "So, how are you feeling? Better, I hope?"

I lean up against the wall, suddenly getting a head rush. "Yeah, a little bit," I manage to say, despite the fact that my vision is completely black and I feel dizzy. I try to talk again, but suddenly my entire mind just goes blank, and next thing I know I'm sitting on the floor with Kirstie crouching down in front of me, a concerned look on her face.

"Mitch? You all right?" she asks quietly, one of her hands on my shoulder again.

"Yeah," I answer immediately. "I just blacked out for a second. Head rush. I'm fine, though, happens all the time." I smile at her, and then go to stand up. She still looks uncertain, but follows me into the living room nonetheless.

"This is a nice place," she comments as she looks around, going to sit down on one of the recliners. "You've been living here for the last seven years?"

"Mostly," I say, reaching over to grab a tissue and wipe my nose. "I crashed at my parents' house for a couple months after,... you know, after it all went down and I was, like, just super depressed and stuff." I sit down on the loveseat, the tissue still in my hand. "But then they helped me buy this place in like... February, maybe? And I've been here since."

Kirstie nods, nervously biting the inside of her lip. Her hands are pressed underneath her thighs, and the faraway look that momentarily glazes over her eyes indicates that she's thinking about something—probably about what she and the rest of the guys discussed yesterday.

I take advantage of the silence and break it to quickly blow my nose, and then I stand to go throw the tissue in the trash. "You want anything to drink?" I ask her as I head into the kitchen.

"Oh, no, I'm okay. Thank you, though," she replies, a small distracted smile on her face. After quickly washing my hands, I grab a water bottle from the fridge and head back into the living room.

After a moment, she finally sighs and says, "So. About the email we sent you last night. Er, well, morning. Happy New Year, by the way, but, um,... we're hoping that we made it very clear that, if you don't want to go through with this, we absolutely don't have to..."

I'm shaking my head before she even finishes her sentence. I put my unopened water bottle down on the coffee table, and then lean my elbows onto my knees. "Kirstie, you have no idea how long I've wanted this. How long I've been waiting for us to get back together and continue living out our dream. I... well, obviously, I could do without the scars and the medical and automotive bills, but..." I sigh in content. "Basically, what I'm saying is... yes. One hundred times yes. I want to do it."

Kirstie's trying to evade the smile that's threatening to conquer her face, but eventually she just lets it take over with a small laugh. I do the same. "Mitch, I don't... I don't think you have any idea how long I've been in that position." She shakes her head. "But you know me. I'm confident one day and diffident the next, and there's just... there's just like no in-between. I wanted—so badly—to call one of you guys for the last six years, but I just couldn't... work up enough courage to do so, you know?"