Saving the Reject | Michael Clifford | Editing

t h i r t y o n e ;

Charli

I waved one last time to Halina, now in the hands of the gracious volunteers at the local shelter. I had written my phone number in the back cover of To Kill A Mockingbird, and had urged Halina to keep in contact, something that she told me she would do without a second thought.

Michael took ahold of my hand the minute I got in the car, whispering, "Seriously, do you have a flaw?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Much too many to count."

"Don't say that," Michael said quietly. "I won't let you believe you have too many flaws to count. I mean, think about it, you're absolutely beautiful - "

"Stop - "

" - you're on the way to be Valedictorian - "

"Michael, stop - "

" - you have the kindest heart I have ever been around - "

"Michael!" He only stopped when he saw the first tear slip down my cheek. "There's so much," I started slowly, "you don't know about me. And how, after seeing me yesterday morning, and seeing me last night, could you believe I don't have a flaw?"

Michael lifted his hand to my face, softly wiping away the tears with his thumb. "With Aiden - you don't - ?"

"Blame myself for his death?" I finished for him, quickly looking away. I said nothing more on the subject, but maybe the silence was all Michael needed. "I wish my life could be simple like yours. I wish it could just be my friends and music," I confessed.

"Charli - " Michael choked, emotion clear in his voice. "That's not what it's like."

I looked up at him, seeing that he was already looking to me, desperately, trying to get me to understand something. "What?"

"My life, it - " he stuttered, causing me to grow more and more concerned. "It wasn't as - it's not like - "

I leaned over, placing a soft kiss to the side of his worried face. As I pulled away and looked into his still sorrowful eyes, I whispered, "Why don't we go somewhere and talk, yeah? Just the two of us." Michael swallowed, and nodded gently to me. "Do you remember the place we went after Scar's party?"

A half an hour later, Michael and I lay in the back seat of his car, my back pressed to his chest with his arms securely around my waist. As much as I love my grandparent's property, being on the cliff, the wind is a killer, so, in order to have the ability to speak and listen without difficulty, we stayed in the car.

Since finding out his life wasn't as simple as I thought, I'd let go of my sorrows temporarily and worried about Michael. I've not had an easy life, and I can deal with that - but it kills me to know that other people, especially those I care about, haven't had the best life either.

I wish I could take the pain of cancer from Evie, or the pain of losing one's father from Scarlett, or the pain of heart break from Luke, or the pain of guilt from Dawson, or whatever pain Michael is dealing with now. I could bare it. That's what I was born to do, isn't it? I'm a born soldier. At least, I'd like to think so.

"When I was little," Michael started. We had been sitting together in a welcoming silence for a while now, but now comes the truth from Michael, and soon would come the truth from me. "I was never really that close to anyone. I had a few friends from school, but none that I'd hang around outside of school. But over one summer, a family moved in next door to us, and they had a daughter my age. Her name was Tahlia. We became best friends."

Tahlia. It can't be the same Tahlia. That angel can't be the reason behind Michael's sadness, can she?

"When we started in school together, I started to develop a little crush on her, and - well - it was more than just a crush, I guess. When we got to high school, she started seeing this really shady guy. I knew from the start that he was bad news. She started disrespecting her parents, ignoring me, and getting into some intense drugs. It got to a point that she couldn't go a day without snorting cocaine. When I finally confronted her, we got into this huge fight and she begged me not to tell her parents, but how could I not? It was ruining her life, and I wanted to help get her back on her feet." Michael was becoming unstable, and, having a terrible gut feeling that the worst was yet to come, I took both his hands in mine, interlocking our fingers together how they always fit so perfectly, gently stroking the backs of his hands in an attempt to comfort him. "By the time I got to her house, she was all ready there, with a black eye, claiming I'd hit her."