One More Summer

Chapter 12

-Michael-

        "Happy one-month-out-of-the-hospital anniversary!" I chimed, setting the plate down in front of Leah. She turned hear head to grin up at me.

        "Thanks," she smiled. I nodded, pulling out a chair next to her and sitting down. Leah's mother, Evelyn, smiled warmly at me from the opposite side of the table. I could see her eyes trying to hide pain. Grayson wasn't there; he was at a friend's.

        I was doing everything I could to keep Leah from being dragged down into  depression, and as far as I could tell it was working. She hadn't said anything about feeling depressed to her therapist. More or less, she was slowly returning to the happy girl on the beach.

        Leah was starting ro remember little details. When she remembered her mother's favorite type of cookie was a gingersnap, she tried to bake them. Forgetting how to work an oven, Leah had almost set the house on fire.

        Later that night, I was sitting on the room with Leah, looking at the setting sun. In the past month, we'd grown closer than she'd ever been with Casey. That was the pain in Evelyn's eyes. Her daughter was sharing everything with this boy she barely knew.

        "What's on your mind?" I questioned, closing my eyes and leaning back against the roof.

        "Why did you come here from Australia?" she responded softly. I opened my eyes and turned to look at her.

        "Um, my mother died about two years ago, and my dad decided he wanted to come here," I said simply. I left out the part about how my uncle had kicked us out of the house because of the drinking my father began to do. 

        "I'm so sorry," she said, reaching out for my hand.

        "What about you?" I asked, hoping I wasn't crossing a line.

-Leah-

        I cleared my throat before answering him. 

        "Um, it was a car accident. He got in a car accident and was in a coma for four weeks, I think it was, and...yeah." He squeezed my hand as I swallowed tears.

        "I'm sorry," he whispered. We sat there, in silence, for a few minutes.

        "Jerk," I said suddenly, and Michael's head whipped up.

        "What?" he said, the hurt in his voice clear. I laughed softly. 

        "You've seen Supernatural," I replied, and he visibly relaxed.

        "Yeah, yeah. That's what you meant?" I nodded, giggling.

        "Yeah. Jerk."

        "Bitch," he said, a wide smile appearing on his face. 

        "Leah! Michael! Come one," my mother's faint voice called from downstairs. Michael stood up before helping me, and we crawled through my window and back into my bedroom. Slowly, we walked downstairs, laughing and talking until we reached the ground floor. Mom gave Michael a hug before he hugged me and waved goodbye, walking outside to his car.

        I walked back up to my room and sat on my bed, pulling out my phone and my earbuds. I turned on the music and sat, deep in thought. I knew Michael was trying to keep the depression away. I knew it was failing. I knew everything was getting so bad that I couldn't even order at Starbucks without having a panic attack. And I kept asking myself, was it even worth it? To "live" like this? Afraid to do anything, afraid to ask for help, and depressed?