Chicago (City Trilogy 1)

Chapter Thirty Six : Here

Chapter Thirty Six

I raced up the driveway. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, and I could feel my legs becoming exhausted from all my running. Yet, all I could think about was how close I was to getting to Michael and finding out what in the hell happened that was such an emergency.

I burst through the large wooden door at the front of my house and saw my father and mother on the couch together. They seemed to be discussing something, muttering inaudible sentences under their breath. However, both heads turned to face me as I let my bags crash to the floor and slammed the front door shut.

The staircase to my bedroom never seemed as eternally never-ending as when I had been running to change clothes. I didn't exactly want to waste time changing clothes, but I was a sight, that's for sure. I had left the theatre in such a rush that I was wearing my tights and leotard, both coated in sweat, and a crop top. That's it. I looked like a dancer from 'Flashdance' The Musical with my leg warmers and hair in a frizzy mess.

I nearly tore the clothes off of my body, frantic as I ran around my room for better clothing. I found the white v-neck of Michael's laying on my floor, so I threw that on over a bright blue sports bra. I was lucky that it didn't show through. Nearly breaking a hanger in the process, I retrieved a pair of light skinny jeans from my closet and slipped those over my legs. I slipped on my black motorcycle boots, since they were the quickest shoes to put on, and ran back out of my room. Of course, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and slipped it in my back pocket.

Upon returning to the living room, my parents were watching me.

"Where's...Michael?" I asked, nearly gasping for air.

My mother's kind brown eyes looked sad. "His house, honey. But I think you should know - "

I didn't hear the rest of her sentence as I dashed back outside. I tore through my front yard and didn't even bother looking for cars before crossing the street. Thank God I wasn't hit. I felt myself nearly fall as I ran through Michael's yard, and regardless of how rude it was, I barged into his house.

His mother, like mine, was sitting on the couch. I saw tears in her eyes as she looked up at me and gestured upstairs. I nodded at Karen and ran upstairs. I arrived outside of Michael's bedroom door and decided I should probably collect myself before entering.

It had only been a few moments of 'collecting myself', as I called it, when I heard a light whimper from the other side of the door. I couldn't help myself as I burst through his bedroom door and saw him sitting on his bed. He was leaning against his headboard, knees tucked to his chest as his fingers tugged at his dark hair. He was sobbing, and I was shocked that he was making small noises compared to loud ones.

I had seen Michael crying many times before, but that was before I knew everything. He was crying before because he had this huge burden, and no one knew except Karen. Plus, his dad was gone, so it's not like he had many shoulders to cry on. And knowing Michael, he would never let himself break in front of Karen. He would try to be SuperMan, never looking weak or vulnerable.

But, this time was different.

I walked over to his bed and climbed on it in front of him. I sat up on my knees, providing space between them, before gently pushing his own knees. His legs straightened slowly on the bed as he let me move him how I pleased. When his feet went through my legs, I walked on my knees closer to him, so that I could straddle his lap. I gently placed my hands over his own monstrous ones, slowly easing his fingers to let up on the grip on his hair. When he let go of his hair, I brought his hands to my waist, unsure of where to put them. He instantly gripped my waist harder than he ever had before. Honestly, it was excruciatingly painful, but it hurt me more to see him so broken. I let go of his hands, moving mine to his scalp. I gently ran my fingers through his hair as he stared at his lap, near silent sobs escaping his lips.

"Michael," I whispered so quietly that I wasn't sure if he heard me.

His gaze shifted from his lap to my eyes in a single, sharp movement. He opened his mouth, ready for words to come pouring out, but none ever did. When he realized he wasn't going to speak, he simply buried his face in the crook of my neck and cried.

~

I don't know how long I sat with Michael as he broke in my arms. I had always seen him as a strong person. I mean, he's strong in his stubbornness to keep me out of his life when he first moved back. Then he was strong for me when the incident with Fino happened and I broke in his arms. Then he was physically strong when we went on our first date and the random guy on the street basically tried to kidnap me. All of that, and the strongest I've ever seen him was when he took me to Kavé Express and told me about the cancer.

Despite it all, though, here he was crying in my arms, and there was no way I could be strong for him.

"It's not gone..." He whispered into my hair, soon after leaning back against his headboard again.

"What do you mean, Mikey?" I hoped that using his nickname would help him to feel a bit better, but his frown only deepened.

He rubbed his lips together as he took a deep breath. "Something happened with my test results and the ones that had no cancer...weren't mine. It's...It's worse, Emerson. I-I don't know if I can beat it this time and the doctors...they didn't seem very hopeful and I can't leave you yet. I can't, Em. I just got you back and I'm not ready and I - "

"Shh..." I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him back to hug me again. "What did I tell you before your appointment, Michael?"

"You're not dying. Not on my watch. And then you said you were in for the long haul and there was nothing I could do about it."

I nod. "That's right. And none of that has changed, Michael." I kissed his forehead. "It's not going to change any time soon, either, so get this idea out of your head. I'm here."

"You're here..." He mumbled into my neck.

"I'm here." I whisper in response.