Highway Kismet

Summer Chillin'

Mitchell trailed off and I searched his expression for an answer but all I got was his slightly parted lips and the storm of blue and grey in his eyes. I wasn't too sure what he wanted to say but the dramatic pause between us made me a little nervous.

"You?" I asked softly.

He exhaled and looked away for a second before looking back my way. I gave him an impatient, questioning look – after all my flight was about to depart soon.

"I," He began, "I can't seem to get something off my mind."

A small frown appeared on my forehead; I couldn't believe he stopped me just to tell me that. I didn't know what I thought he was going to say but I certainly didn't expect this. Nevertheless, I decided to go along with it, so I reached towards him with my hand and patted his shoulder.

"I know," I sympathetically said, "It's me – you can't and won't be able to get me off your mind. But it's okay, we'll see each other in August and until then use the tissue I gave you."

He gave me a look which said he wasn't kidding around.

"This trip only lasted a week, but I have gotten to know more of you in the last seven days than in the last couple of months." He said.

"Yeah, that's because back then we were either trying to kill each other or thinking of diabolic ways to get rid of one another." I said.

"At least, I was." I added to myself under my breath.

Mitchell wasn't finding my response amusing because he didn't smile once, instead, he looked as if he was on a mission. I didn't understand where he was going with this, but I also didn't have time to ask questions, or I would miss my flight.

"You keep saying how you've lived the most in this one week and it blows my mind because, in comparison to me and even Owen, this week isn't a fraction of what most people our age have done." He said and I couldn't help but agree with him.

However, Mitchell didn't know the kind of life I lived growing up, the kind of responsibilities I had which held me back from doing all the crazy things that he and Owen have done.

"Well not all of us are kids of Mason Clarke." I retorted.

Mitchell sighed, "It's not about money or wealth, it's about being free and young. I don't know your story, but I don't think it's fair that you lived so little. You truly looked happy most of the time on this trip and... well I guess I want to ask," He paused for a moment before he continued with a tiny grin, "How urgent is it for you to get back home?"

I had to mentally pinch myself to make sure I heard correctly or if it wasn't the darkest hole in my heart that craved to stay back and forget about every tie which bound me to home, that was asking me this question. Mitchell asked the question to me twice and both times had a valid reason but this time, there was no reason for me to stay.

"What?" I choked.

"I'm serious Mila," Mitchell stated, "You played air-hockey for the first time at the age of twenty-two – you clearly have not lived."

"Stay for a while, a couple of days, a week, two weeks – I don't care," He said and the look on his face told me how serious he was, "I'll show you around LA and take you to different places in California. What I'm saying is, if you're not really needed in New York, stay and live a little."

"You owe yourself that much,"

I wanted to laugh, there was no way Mitchell wanted me to stay longer with him. He cursed his life for every day we spent together.