Hours

17- Wednesday, May 16th

5:34 PM

"Micheal..." I start the same way he did, with a name. "I wanted to ask you something. It may be a bit personal, but..."

"What is it?" Micheal spares me from having to continue, but the question still lingers at the back of my throat.

"What's going on with you, Andy, and Alisa?" I say finally, getting them unstuck from the back of my throat. I notice him tense, and hurry on to say, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I know it's personal and I don't-"

"It's fine... You deserve to know." Micheal cuts me off, but his words confuse me.

"How so?"

"Well, maybe not deserve... but I want to tell someone, I guess." He sighs but continues before I prod him some more. "They... They say that I owe them drug money." Micheal states quite simply, but that simple phrase stops me in my tracks. "They are under the impression that I bought from them two weeks ago and refuse to pay up. Except I didn't buy from them." Relief floods me, for a reason I can't quite place.

"Then..." I start, Micheal finishes for me.

"Someone else did and put the money under my name. Since I'm an outcast who doesn't have anyone to stand up for me, they have no problem harassing me instead of the original buyer."

"Who is the original buyer?"

"I... Have my guesses... But today's the first day they really left me alone... And that's because of you."

"But... what are you going to do?"

"I don't owe them any money. It's not my problem to deal with. But I want them to leave me alone. I just don't think they will..."

"I want to help you," I say suddenly, not sure why or how. "What do you owe them?"

"They say $500... but they'll just keep raising it. I know them, they won't settle, especially with someone like me. Where am I to even get that kind of money anyway?"

"I have some money left over from working over March break. I can-"

"No, Kayla. Thank you, but no." Micheal picks up his pace so I'm forced to jog to catch up to him.

"But you said-"

"This is a matter between me and my father alone." I freeze, and Micheal looks like wants to take the words back.

"Your father?" I push, confused.

"It... I know it was him who bought. He's not exactly the paternal type if you get what I'm saying."

"And... he put it under your name? Why would he-"

"Because he wants nothing to do with me!" Micheal explodes, flinging his arms out. "He hates me, hates that I remind him of her!"

"Of who, Micheal?" I fire back, raising my voice for a reason I cannot understand.

"Of my Mom!" He shouts, voice cracking. "He hates me because I remind him of my Mom. I got her eyes, he used to say when he would speak to me. I have her hair too. He hates that she's gone and that all he has left is a sorry excuse of a son who's exactly like her!"

"Your Mom..." My voice is quiet now, and I regret shouting earlier.

"She died nine years ago... Cancer." Micheals quiet now too, and I can hear the pain in his voice. "A brain tumour. We didn't know until... Until..." He draws a shaky breath, looking away from me.

"I'm so sorry." I try lamely.

"Why do people say that?" He asks, looking to the sky, shrouded behind the growing leaves.

"I guess... I guess they want to help-" I offer,

"It doesn't help though, does it? It's just empty words. Just a meaningless response that we've been drilled with since birth. Friend moves? Oh no, that sucks. Lost jewellery? That's awful. Mom... Mom dies? So sorry." Micheal breaths are ragged and wet now, and I can tell he's close to crying.

"What else is there to say?" I ask quietly. "We offer what we can, I guess. It's human."

Micheal silent for a long time as we continue walking back. "I'm sorry for dumping all that on you. I really shouldn't have... I didn't think..." He says eventually

"It's okay, Micheal, really. I'm sorry for pushing you."

"Don't worry about it. It's good to talk about these things, I hear." Micheal smiles weakly at me, and I look at him, feeling the stirrings of change inside me. Without the hoodie obscuring his face, his hair flies around carelessly. The black curls, which I now know come from his mother, bounce around like they have a mind of their own, flying away from behind his ears and covering his crystal blue eyes. I never really noticed before, but the shade of them is so pure, shifting with his moods. They're lighter when he's upset, like a cloudless sky, but dark like dusk when he's happy, making his hair look even darker. Those eyes aren't really fair at all for him to have, not for a boy. He still has his white earbuds with him, always does, I notice. Always his earbuds and his phone, in case of what I don't know. I also noticed that he doesn't wear them when he's driving. They're still there though, wrapped around the back of his neck, dangling casually over his chest. Micheal's certainly not a jock, but he is fit. That much is clear by how easily he kept up with me on this hike.

"What are you looking at?" Micheal asks, laughing. The sound of his laugh makes me laugh too, in a sort of contagious way.

"I don't know!" I smile, thinking of what to say. "I guess I was describing you in my head. That sounds weird. Sorry. I'm weird." I blush, confused as to why now I'm a blubbering idiot.

"That's not weird." Micheal tilts his head, looking back at me. "I don't think it's weird at all."

I look down at the ground, only to discover we're back at the gravel parking lot. I look behind me, at how far we've come without me even noticing.

"Faster on the way down, huh?" I ask, unable to keep the smile off my face.

"I guess so." We stand across from each other in the parking lot awkwardly, trying to figure out where to go now.

"It's getting late..." I say, not really wanting to go.

"Yeah..." Micheal agrees, but we continue to stand there, him with his hands in his pockets, me with one arm holding the other wrist. "So, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Got to finish that English project," I joke, and we smile guiltily together. We had barely started.

I walk him over to his car, which he unlocks as I stand awkwardly beside him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, I guess," Micheal says again, opening his door. He gets in but looks at me before he closes it. "Kayla?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," Micheal says as he turns his car on. All at once the speakers start blaring a song I don't recognize. Micheals face turns bright red as he turns his music down, the lyrics still drifting in my mind.

"Bye," I say, smiling. Micheal closes his door, pulling out of the parking lot slowly, flashing his lights as he drives away.

I walk over to my car, unlock it, and sit down, the song in Micheals car still floating through my ears. I smile as I pull out of the parking lot, feeling lighter and happier than I had in a long time.

My favourite colour is you...