down the rabbit hole

Maggie felt like a 13 year old. She was nervous and akward and practically giddy.As she got ready to hang out with Michael for the first time, she felt like she was on about 3 different kinds of drugs, even though she was stone, cold sober.
She thought about pouring herself a drink at least 5 different times as she threw different clothes around - off and on - onto the bed, onto the floor. By the time she made it out the door, her room looked as if it had been hit by a clothes bomb.
"No..", she thought. "No drinks, no nothing. I can't tell if i feel like i'm coming or going. Why the HELL do i feel like this? It's so stupid. i barely know this guy"
She finally made it out the door and into her crappy little car. Her crappy little car that she LOVED. Because it worked. all the time. and it barely used any gas. It was a great little car.
Anyway...she was thinking about her brief meetings with Michael as she navigated her way through the Hollywood Hills and down Sunset into Silverlake. They had met almost a year ago. He came back to her house after one of the many shows. He came with a little posse. A super famous pop star and a couple of other guys she assumed were in the music business in some way. She had no idea what Michael did. Nor did she care. All she knew was that her house was filled up with this great energy from these guys - and they were all making her feel really great at a time when she needed it. She was going out with this younger bass player at the time who had a way of making her feel insecure. There was something about the bass player that she didn't trust - but he always talked her out of her suspicions. And he was super jealous. So when these gorgeous black guys all swarmed around her in her kitchen, showering her with compliments - BJ (bass man) started to sulk.
Michael, in particular, was paying a LOT of attention to her. She tried to be a gracious host without setting BJ off, found a bench to sit on that was a little outside of the circle that was always made on her sun-porch. She was feeling really good about the Thai food she's had the foresight to pick up on her way home. Palms (Thai restaraunt) was right down the street, and it was REALLY good. It felt good to hear everyone's appreciation for some awesome food after all the booze that had been consumed. Maggie loved to feed people good food.
As she sat a little on the side line, observing this happy little party, she noticed that the pop star had made himself super comfy by falling asleep on her couch just inside the TV room. That made her feel good, too. She liked having that kind of a house. Where everyone feels cozy ,and safe, and welcome. BJ was ignoring her for the moment, which was fine, because at least he wasn't acting like a jerk, or super jealous. And then...Michael found her.
He sat next to Maggie on the stone bench in the darkest part of the patio, under the bouganville. He sat RIGHT next to her. Ass to ass. Just thinking about it almost a year later in her car was making her crazy. The instant energy that seemed to penetrate her body like kryptonite to Superman. He had put his hand on the small of her back, said a few words that she couldn't even hear because she was being zapped from the inside out with his kryptonite energy, and then asked her if she wanted to take a walk up in the back yard. She couldn't remember what she had said - but she did notice BJ looking for her, and could see him getting nuts about Michael sitting so close to her - all she could remember was that she had to get away from that intense energy and FAST. So she snuck off to bed without saying goodnight to anyone. Her bedroom was right by the sun-porch and the aforementioned patio...so she lay there listening to the sounds of the little gathering, not sleeping, not able to take her mind off Michael.

Funny how the world works. Almost a year later, there she was, driving to meet up with him at that same pop star's house. A year of heart ache later. A year of betrayal later. A year of confusion later.And she was so moved just by the memory of him, just by the thought of him, that she missed her turn and got hopelessly lost.