Chapter III

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Mike became my rock. I knew we had been friends for years, he told me. But I didn't expect to become this comfortable with him so quickly. His general presence was comforting, and he supported me through my treatments before I could finally leave. He told me I was coming to stay with him until I was better again.

Until I was? What if I never was?

I trudged out of the hospital with him none the less, getting into his BMW. Nice. We really must be rich.

I believed this further when we pulled up to his house. I knew he lived alone, and the only person who stayed with him was Estelle. His house was big enough for Estelle and her class to stay over too.

He showed me to a spare room and helped me to get comfortable, showing me where the bathroom was. I noticed his sad smile.

"What's the matter?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"You know my house so well. I know you don't remember, but you know everything. Even where my secret candy stash is."

I smiled in reply, and he helped me into bed and made me comfortable. "Just yell if you need anything. Try and rest, you need it." He turned to walk away.

"Mike?"

He turned back to face me. "Yeah?"

"...Where is your secret candy stash?"

He simply winked before walking out.

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The next time I opened my eyes, I realised I was watching a pink unicorn discuss with its unicorn friends where they would find their other unicorn friends. I frowned. This was not the show I had fallen asleep to.

I made a grab for the remote to discover it was gone.

The culprit, I soon found out, was sitting at the end of the bed watching the show as if John Lennon was playing her a personal show.

Estelle.

"Hey, I was watching that!" I protested.

The small girl turned to face me, with a facial expression I had seen on Mike countless times. "You've been asleep for five and a half hours."

I went to argue back, but realised I couldn't. I settled for folding my arms, now in full pout mode.

Mike burst in boasting a tray which contained a dinner which looked homemade. He placed the tray over me so I could eat sitting in bed.

"It's your favourite." He said, matter of factly.

I scoffed. "Thanks for letting me know." I took a bite and widened my eyes as I looked at him. "Did you make this yourself?"

He nodded once in confirmation. "Always have, always will."

"I'm never leaving this house," I said with my mouth full.

Mike chuckled and looked over at the TV, nodding in agreement. "Nice TV taste. I enjoy this show too."

I grumbled and kept eating, swatting a hand in his direction. I wasn't going to snitch on Estelle. I was no snitch.

"C'mon Estelle, I know you're watching Beej's favourite show right now but it's time for bed." Mike explained, taking the remote. I looked between my dinner and Mike, confused.

"Bed?" I asked, and he nodded to the window. It was completely dark out.

He smirked slightly. "Estelle had dinner with me, at normal people time. However you, Mr Sleepyhead, couldn't be awoken from your slumber. So you have to eat it now."

I nodded, now understanding. He took Estelle off to bed and I changed the channels, settling on some show about cars. I didn't even know what my own interests were.

By the time Mike had headed back to my room, dinner was done, and I was curled up on my side, watching a rock documentary.

He turned the TV off and sat on the bed, clutching a book. I rolled my eyes. Can't a guy watch some TV around here?

He handed me the book, and I opened it. The first few pictures were of a little boy with blonde hair (I presumed this was Mike) and his family. I flicked through until I got to a picture of the same boy. The date at the bottom read 'May 4th, 1983'.

Something about this picture stood out. I studied Mike, and my eyes wandered to the figure next to him. A small boy was grinning at the camera, clutching a fist of Mike's birthday cake. He had reddish brown curly hair, and bright green eyes. Mike was laughing at the boy, but the boy was fully aware of the camera and seemed to be loving it.

"I-Is that us?" I asked, and he nodded.

"'My 11th birthday party. You basically ate all my cake, had an insane sugar rush, puked on my floor and then laid down in the hallway and cried." He chuckled and I smiled.

"Nice one, Billie." I looked to the next few pictures. As I looked, Mike and I began to age. Each photo was either a birthday party or Christmas, or some sort of school production. Mike and I were always right next to each other.

I kept looking. A teenage Mike and Billie looked back at me, clearly stoned. I was wearing my cap backwards like the true punk that I was. Our hair was insanely long.

I smiled to myself as I flicked through the pictures. When Mike and I hit 15, there were none of his family and him. He was always with my family. I decided not to ask about this.

I handed Mike the book back as I grew tired, and he turned the light off, lying next to me. He seemed tired too.

When I was sure Mike was asleep, I cuddled up against him and fell asleep curled up in his arms.

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