elliot lee -- the boy with the loud laugh and the stars in his eyes.
micah cassidy -- the boy who's always got his earbuds in to drown out the world.
micah and elliot fell in love in the ninth grade. they've been best friends since way before that...
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I knock on the Cassidys' door at 6:45, and almost instantly Micah is opening the door and dragging me inside.
"Hey!" I greet, hovering awkwardly in the entrance to the dining room.
"Elliot! Good to see you." Micah's dad says, mouth and mustache tilted up in a smile. I've always found his mustache funny, especially when he smiles, and I bite back my laughter.
"Hi, Mr. Cassidy."
"You can call me Tom, come on. We've known you long enough. Sit down, sit down!"
So we do, Micah carrying more awkward energy then he usually has in his own home as he rushes around, dragging me to the chair next to his own.
Soon enough, Micah's mom joins us.
"Oh, hello Elliot! I didn't hear you come in. How are you?"
"Hi, Mrs. Cassidy. I'm good, thanks."
"Talia, isn't he something? We've known him since he was this big," he squeezes his fingers together for emphasis, "and he still doesn't refer to us by our first names."
Mrs. Cassidy, Talia, smiles and winks at me. I awkwardly laugh, eyes falling to my plate.
"Sorry." I mumble. Honestly, I've never been good around parents. I don't know how to act or what to say, so more often than not I just sit there in silence. For the longest time, Micah's parents thought I was shy, until I hung out in their house and with their son long enough that my crazy side was exposed.
"You guys are so awkward," Micah says. His voice is light, and when I look over, his eyes are twinkling.
I can't tell if he is talking about me or his parents. Probably all of us, if we're being honest.
"Dinner will be ready soon. Nobody's in any rush, are we?" Talia asks.
I shake my head kindly, sparing a glance in Micah's direction. He's tapping his leg so fast I think he's trying to launch his chair into space, but when he catches me staring, he stops.
"Oh, Elliot!" Talia is talking to me again. She's always been good at that, making sure the air doesn't stay still for too long. "How did you do on that math test last week? The one Micah was so worried about failing."
I chuckle, Micah choking on his sip of water.
Being around Micah's family is the best, watching how they tease each other. It always fills me with light when I'm here.
"I got a 10 out of 12." I reply. I already know where this is going.
"See, Micah! You did better than Elliot." His mom is saying, Micah burying his face in his hands. He's probably blushing.
"Yeah, by one point!"
"Still, you were so worried." His mom prods. Micah doesn't reply. No one does.
I begin to tap my own foot, eyes flitting around the room trying to adjust to the newfound silence. Micah still hasn't looked up, his dad is focused on the newspaper, and his mom straightens her napkin.
Awkwardly, I clear my throat. No one says anything, but I feel all the attention in the room shift to me.
"It smells good in here!" I feel the need to fill the silence on my own, to fill their expectations, but the second it falls out of my mouth I get the urge to curl up in a ball and hide in the corner forever.
"Thank you! I'm making mac and cheese, the fancy kind! Not from a box." She gives me a subtle wink, and I give a forced laugh.
I can't recall the last time I had mac and cheese that wasn't from a box.
Mrs. Cassidy slips into the kitchen then and returns with plates, one that she places in front of Micah and the other in front of me. Then, she brings one out for herself and one for Tom.
"Oh, Elliot, I forgot to ask! Would you like anything to drink?"
"Some water would be great, please." I clear my throat again.
"I'll get it! You sit, mom." So she does, and Micah disappears into the kitchen. I hear glass clinking, the sink turning on and off. Then, he's back.
"Thanks." I mutter so quiet I'm sure only he can hear it. Micah offers me a tilted grin before setting the glass down for me. I smile back.
"Thanks for making dinner, mom!"
"Looks great," I add.
The eating portion of dinner passes excruciatingly slowly, the only sound being forks and knives occasionally scraping on ceramic. That sound makes me want to cry but I slowly chew my mac and cheese and push through.
Micah finishes before everyone else, though half his plate is still full. "I'm just not super hungry," he says when his dad prods him on the subject.
I want to make him feel better, would do anything to get him back to normal. But that's the thing— in life, we have to adjust to changes. I can't always help, but I can always let him know he's not facing it alone.
I shove my food into my mouth so fast it's a wonder I don't choke, swallowing large gulps at a time just to finish faster.
"Maybe we be excused?" I ask, placing my fork on my empty plate.
"Sure." Micah's dad says, laughing.
Under his breath, I think I hear him mutter a humored "boys."
"Just put your plates in the sink!" His mom follows up. "And Elliot, your mom will be picking you up at 8:00. So in about fifteen minutes!"
I smile and nod.
I can see the relief in Micah's eyes as he stacks his plate atop mine, walking to the kitchen. I stand and follow him.
"Are you okay?" I ask once we're halfway up the stairs and I can't take the silence anymore.
He doesn't answer until he pushes open the door to his room. "I don't know. I'm just tired, I guess."
"It seems like it's more then that," I push.
Maybe I shouldn't, but I feel like I need to. If I let moments like this slip by, something bad could happen. That fear sits heavy in the back of my brain and I use it to combat the guilt.
"You never asked why I changed my bike."
"It wasn't any of my business."
My eyes flit to the trans flag hung on the wall beside his bed, to the plethora of photos of the two of us together, to the movie posters.
"This kid down the street told me it was a girl color. Asked if I was secretly a girl or something. And I know he's wrong about about all of it, and he's a stupid asshole. But it stung."
"I'm sorry." I say. What else could I say? "I should have asked about it sooner."
"I didn't want you to."
And that's not funny, it shouldn't be. But I laugh, and then Micah is laughing too. I love the sound of his laugh, like rain falling on the roof. Here, in this moment, he looks happier than he has all day.
"You're something else, Micah Cassidy."
His eyes twinkle. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Lee. Here, listen to this." He hands me an earbud and I put it in, I always get the right one, and with this one little action, the world tilts back on its axis.
It's just me, Micah, and the music. I never want to leave.
