Grown up kid

the sound of a heart

I had forced myself to forget the night I told everyone about Bird Creek. Though it found it's way into my dreams mostly every night. Darry didn't kill me or Michael. Darry actually likes Michael. He has him over for dinner every Saturday and lets us hang out whenever, with restrictions.
Today I was at Michaels house. Last week I finally met his mother and sister, Anna. Anna looks a lot like Michael. They have the same eyes but her hair is jet black while Michaels is brown.
"Hey Anna. Michael home?" I tended to stop by without warning.
"Yeah in his room," She showed me to his room though I already knew where it was. He wasn't reading or painting now though. He sat on the side of his bed and he was slumped over, head in hands. "Have fun you two," Anna winked like she had hardly noticed Michael.
"Hey," I stop in the door stop usually he perked up once he noticed me. I walk over to his bed and sit on the edge of the bed beside him. I look through his hands in an attempt to see his face. "Michael?"
"Yeah," he sniffled quickly and sat up. "Hey."
"Everything alright?" His face was a bright shade of red. Was he embarrassed?
"Yeah."
I realized his redness was tear induced rather than from embarrassment. "Michael," I place my hand on his back. He had gotten much taller over the months and I was in no size comparison with him now.
"I'm alright," He kisses my forehead. "I'm alright Aidy."
"You don't look it." I smile a bit to see if he smiles back. He does.
He leans down and lays his head on my shoulder which doesn't seem very comfortable.
"Wanna paint?" I suggest.
"Not today."
"Okay well we could go for a walk."
"I want to stay here."
"How about we just stay here and cuddle. Not much effort required."
"I'd like that," I stood and he swung his feet around onto the bed. He patted the bed and I slid in beside him. I laid on my stomach, my arm on his chest and my head on his shoulder. I put my leg over his. I looked sickly in comparison. I etched figures into his sweater with my right index finger. I could hardly draw but Michael made paintings of these colorful, vibrant far away lands. Much better than the ones in my dreams.
I could hear Michael fall asleep and I moved my head over to listen to his heart beat. It was the only way I could fall asleep.
I listened to his heart beat until I fell asleep too.