Michael's mother didn't call back that day, and Michael didn't want her to. He wasn't sure why he had hung up, but he did know that he didn't want to talk to her. Michael had hidden away each and every one of his feeling since Grace's death, and speaking to his mother had stirred them up like food colouring in clear water.
He spent the rest of that night lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Suzanne came up once or twice to try to get him to eat dinner, but he just pretended he couldn't talk.
And then he fell asleep.
When he awoke in the morning, there was someone else in his room. At first, he thought he might still be asleep, and he rubbed his eyes vigorously before looking again.
Sure enough, Ari was sitting cross legged on the floor next to his bed. She smiled when she saw he was awake.
"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Ari reached up and ruffled his hair.
Michael just turned around and faced the wall.
"Michael...what's wrong?"
Michael closed his eyes.
"Okay, Sue told me that you talked to your mom yesterday," Ari's voice said. "What happened?"
Michael didn't want to talk to Ari, and he obviously couldn't tell her about Grace, so he couldn't tell her what his mom had said either.
Without meaning to, he suddenly started to cry.
He felt the bed dip behind him, and a soft hand on his arm. He turned slightly to see Ari sitting there, her face pure concern.
And suddenly, it hit him. A wave of pure desire washed through him. He wanted her. He wanted her lips on his. He wanted to know what it would feel like to run his hands through her hair, and he wanted the numbness that came when she kissed him.
Almost without meaning to, he reached up his hand and pulled her lips to his. She kissed him back at first, her lips melting with his and her eyelashes tickling his tear streaked cheeks, but then she sighed into his lips and pulled away.
"I..." She took in a shuddery breath, her eyes still closed. "I'm sorry Michael, but I can't. I can't do this with you."
And with that, she hopped off the bed and hurried out through the door, leaving Michael feeling confused and so very, very alone.
---
That night, Michael couldn't sleep. He lay in bed, tossing and turning, and his eyes seemed to be glued open. Although he was more tired than he had been in a very long time, sleep couldn't seem to find him.
Finally, he stood up. He walked over to the window and pulled it open. The screen popped out easily, and he stuck his head out into the fresh night air, taking a big breath as if he had been underwater. He pulled his head out and this time went feet first, finding the small overhang below the window and above the front door of the house with his bare toes. Soon, he was standing outside the window, his hands scrabbling at the smooth bricks on either side of him for a handhold. He looked down. The one story drop looked safe. If he fell, he probably wouldn't even twist his ankle.
He inhaled, his eyes fluttering closed. He leaned his head back, resting it against the cool bricks. His eyes slid open, and he took in the vast, endless sky, each star a memory of a promise he had broken. He felt like his whole life had been a string of lies before that summer, like he had been sleepwalking, and now he was finally waking up.
A shooting star streaked through the sky, it's long tail branding the back of his eyelids with a glowing streak. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, making a wish.
And then he let go.
And for a moment, he flew.
OMg. This is what Jet Black Heart does to me, people. I've become hella emo.
This chapter was actually kinda good though. What did you think?
Loser_Luke
