Note from the Author: Total Word Count: 26,626. Words to go: 3374.
Amy, being in the medical field, insisted that Matty and I not scratch the chicken pox. Well that’s easier said than done. We made a pact to scratch each others backs because then we wouldn’t be scratching our own chicken pox. Which caused Amy to bring out the oven mitts. We begged and pleaded, but to no avail.
So that’s how we ended up holed up in the theater room, basically quarantined. The movies helped us keep our minds off the incessant itching. Occasionally one of us would leave to take an oatmeal bath or to apply some ointment, but for the most part, we stayed in the theater room.
Right now we’re on day three of the chicken pox epidemic. We brought lots of blankets, pillows, and cushions to the theater room so it‘s super cozy. We take turns choosing the movie. We just hit the intercom button to order food from Gus. We’re both in sweats and t-shirts. My hair is atrocious in a truly sloppy bun, but you know what? Neither of us cares. We look pretty ridiculous covered in dots, with mitts for hands, and burrowed in blankets.
It’s kind of funny, because even though it’s miserable being this itchy, it’s not too bad. It’s actually kind of nice having so much time with Matty. We eat, sleep, and recuperate together.
Finally, after a week of isolation from the outside world, we emerge from our sanctuary, that is the theater room. We are a little itchy still, but not much worse for wear.
A week later I decide that I am ready to get my license. I read the drivers manual and feel like I can do it. I had a little freak out in the parking lot, but Matt gave me a pep-talk: “You can do this, Charlie! This is what we’ve been working for. You got this.” I passed the written test easily then came the tricky part: the actual driving test. Luckily, I got a super nice, old lady for a tester. I may have ran a stop sign, but I don’t think she can see too well, so she passed me. I had the traditional awkward license picture taken and they printed off my card instantly. I ran into Matty’s arms in the parking lot, shrieking that I did it. He replied by saying that he always knew that I could do it. We drove to the beach for dinner to celebrate.
More weeks pass and each day brings a new surprise or adventure. Soon we have to rack our brains for new things to do, new places to go, new places to see. Still neither of us brings up his parents.
One night, right after we go to bed, thunder and lightning strike. It’s the first storm since I’ve been back on Earth and I am really scared. I run into Matt’s room, wake him up, and ask him if I could sleep in his room. When he says yes, I run back to my room and grab my pillow and a blanket. I run back in and lay on the floor. We lay in silence for a while. I thought he had gone back to sleep until he whispers my name.
“Yes?” I whisper back.
“I don’t like thunder storms either,” he replies. “Do you have any secrets?” he asks, switching gears.
“Not really. Do you?” I shoot back.
“My parents died in an accident,” he answers, his voice cracking a little.
“I know,” I reply gently, sitting up.
“You know? How?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at me sprawled out on the floor.
“Well, Jack told me,” I respond.
“Jack,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been the one to tell you. But I just didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. I get enough of that.”
“It’s okay, Matty,” I reply not really knowing what else to say.
“It’s good to have that off my chest. Charles, we can share my bed. You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” he offers, laying back down.
