Cinderfella

Chapter Thirty

Ethan opened his eyes to find himself in Mikey's bed. The smaller boy's head was nestled in the crook of his arm. Mikey's chest rose and fell with deep breaths, calmer than he ever was awake.

Ethan looked out the window overhead, blinded by the bright, starry sky above. He closed his eyes, ready for sleep to take him again when something covered his mouth. He opened his eyes, startled by the figure at the foot of the bed. He followed its arm down to the hand over his mouth and began to panic.

His first thought was that it was Tyler or one of his friends, who were adamant about hating them. He then hoped that it was somehow Josh, here to apologise for what he'd done to Mikey. He pushed away that thought immediately.

"Who are you?" the figure asked. His voice was low and raspy, and sounded exhausted. Through the light from the window, Ethan could make out the broad chest that the voice came from.

The hand was removed from Ethan's mouth. "I-I'm Mikey's friend," he said quietly. He didn't need to wake Mikey up as well. "Ethan."

The figure stepped back. "Come with me," he said before he turned and walked towards the door. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Ethan got uo hesitantly, looking back at Mikey sleeping peacefully in the bed, he decided that he would follow the shadowed figure if it meant drawing him away from Mikey.

Ethan closed the door behind him and turned to the figure. The figure reached towards the wall, and seconds later, Ethan was blinded by the bright living room lights.

He let out a breath when he saw the figure. He recognised him now from a picture in Mikey's room. The man was built like a tree, tall and broad, with skin just a bit darker than Mikey's. Their hair was the same color, but while Mikey's hung loosely around his head, hiding his face, his father's was tightly shaven, with a thick beard covering his jaw. Ethan also noticed that while Mikey had dark eyes, his fathers were a brilliant blue, framed by dark circles and wrinkles.

"You're Mikey's dad," Ethan said in confirmation to himself.

Mikey's father smiled. "I am, but you can just call me Michael. He's already told me about you."

Ethan smiled, a warm feeling filling his chest. "He has?"

Michael nodded. "Yes, he really likes you. I can tell you're good friends. He always has something to tell me now, well, something good."

Ethan nodded. Michael motioned towards the kitchen. "Do you need something to drink? Eat maybe? We don't have too much, but I could make you a sandwich."

Ethan began to shake his head when his stomach growled. He blushed in embarrassment, but Michael just smiled. "Come on, I'm starving too."

Ethan followed his to the kitchen and sat in one of the two chairs. He thanked Michael as he opened the fridge and began to put together two plates.

Framed photos hung about the table. Ethan smiled at the pictures of Mikey with his father growing up until more recently. Even from a young age, Mikey looked like a bronze dusted version of his father. Their worry lines and dark circles were gone. One had a ripped side, with the arm of a woman visible around Mikey's shoulders while he held a basketball trophy.

"That's him after middle school," Michael said. He set a plate with a sandwich and cake in front of Ethan and smiled. "He was mad that they got second, but I couldn't have been more proud. And then a year later he quit."

Ethan nodded along. "And the woman's arm? Was that his mom?"

Michael swallowed thickly. "It is. I'm surprised Mikey told you."