Charlie and Miles

Charlie

"My lungs will fill and then deflate. They fill with fire, exhale desire, I know it's dire my time today." - Car Radio, Twenty One Pilots.

***

When I woke up, my parents were back. Julian had gone over to visit one of his school friends, and so it was just them looming over me. Miles was there too, hovering in the background, but not like before; he was keeping his distance, singing Welcome to the Black Parade in his head instead of with me at twelve o'clock in the morning.

I was thankful for the clothes, though. I was sick of the hospital gowns, and needed my black skinny jeans back. Mom even brought my earphones, so I wouldn't be listening to Twenty One Pilots for every 50 year-old in the vicinity to hear.

Miles had also changed, probably while I was asleep. His t-shirt of the day was "If I am silent, it's because there's thunder inside me, or I'm just chilling, it depends. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Dr. Morse came back and started talking about specific drugs and how they could effect my personality, my body, the way I eat, sleep, die, live, cry, smile. Lunch was a solemn affair. Mom and Dad had to continue with their work if they were going to pay for treatments. Dr. Morse (who told me I could call him David or Dave, but I don't want to because that means I'll be here long enough to be on a first name basis with my doctor) was outside, talking with Miles and probably some other people about different things.

I plugged in my music and started singing along with it.

"I ponder of something great. My lungs will fill and then deflate. They fill with fire, exhale desire, I know it's dire my time today. I have these thoughts so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought, 'cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in--".

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. It was like I'd taken a hose and turned it on, only to put a block right before the spout. I began coughing, my earphones pulled out, letting the rest of the song play throughout the room.

"Sometimes quiet is violent. I find it hard to hide it, my pride is no longer inside, it's on my sleeve, my skin willscreamremindingmeofwhoikilled."

Miles came in, holding a tray, which he set down when he saw me doubled over. He began patting me on the back, until finally I could breathe again.

"Are you okay?" He asked once I was done with my coughing fit.

"I'm fine. Strong enough to take you on."

"I bet you'd win," he murmured. I realized his hand was still on my back. I blushed, turning back into a natural sitting position. He cleared his throat and got off the bed, retrieving the food he was supposed to be getting me.

"What's on the menu today?"

"Cheeseburger and fries."

"Yum."

"I didn't know what you like, so on the other plate there's veggies, some ketchup, mayo, mustard."

I pushed everything off to the side, except the ketchup packets.

"Ketchup only," I informed him. "But watch and learn, young Jedi." I took one of the two packets, opening it and spreading it's contents onto the bottom bun. I then put the patty and cheese back on the bottom bun, using the second packet on the top bun, before placing that bun back on the burger, picking it up, and eating it.

"Hospital food is dry. You have to add two packets in a hospital burger versus one on a regular, and none on a McDonald's burger. Here, try."

I held out the burger, and he stared reluctantly at it.

"Come on, you brought me pudding, I teach you how to properly sauce your burger."

"Did you just say 'Sauce your burger?'" I ignored him, leaning closer to him. I waved the burger under his nose, looking up at him. He looked down and we made eye contact, his dark brown eyes meeting my light brown ones.

"Satan commands you to take a bite," I said in a hopefully menacing voice. Probably not. My friends say that I'm a sweet innocent bean-child that must be protected at all costs.

"Are you Satan?"

"No, but he still commands you to do so."

He laughed, taking the burger from me and, while keeping his eyes in contact with mine, took a large bite out of the burger.

"That actually does taste good."

"And that only took me a week at Children's to figure it out."

There was an awkward silence following that, until finally he asked, "What were you listening to? We heard you singing in the hall, and then after you started coughing the headphones came out and we could hear the song, but what was it?"

I didn't answer him, instead pulling my phone out and getting "Car Radio".

"It's by Twenty One Pilots. They're this pretty cool band."

"They're the blurryface guys right?"

"Right. Anyways, this is one of their earlier songs, and it's my favorite." I gave the earphones to him, and he plugged them in. I pressed the play button, and knowing the song by heart, began mouthing along the lyrics.

Once the song was over, I took back the earphones.

"That's cool. Are they the same guys who did 'Truce?'"

"That's a good one, too. A bit too on the meme-y side, but still good."

He clutches his chest like I hurt.

"Meme-y? How dare you, Charles Young, to call my favorite song 'Meme-y?'"

"Don't call me Charles. That's my grandfather's name."

"Sorry. Charlie."

"It's okay. You know, he died of lung cancer. My grandfather. A year ago. Big smoker. I can't figure out why I would get this, if I didn't smoke."

He shrugged. "It's doesn't always have to be about smoking. It could be air pollution, second-hand smoke, or just genetics. Your grandfather could have already had the genes, but that on top of smoking would definitely be a death warrant."

"So in other words, my genetics gave me a recipe for disaster."

"I wouldn't say that." For a second I thought I saw... but then it was gone, and just plain ol' compassion was left.

"Then what would you say, Miles? It's all hunky-dory?"

"Of course I wouldn't say that. I just wouldn't say you're a recipe for disaster." I felt a surge of anger and... something else flow through me.

"Well, I am. Look at my family. It's been two days since the news, almost a month since they initially put me in the hospital, and they are a wreck." I paused to take a breath. "I think I need to be alone right now," I whispered. We made eye contact, but before I could change my mind, he looked away, nodding.

"Right. I'll be right outside, if you still want to talk." He stood up and left. I suddenly lost my appetite and set the tray aside. Maybe later.

Boy, I got myself into a mess. Despite the knowledge that I was probably going to die, I could help but want Miles to be crushing on me just as much as I was crushing on him.