7 Minutes • Jachary

Eight • Zach Herron

When I hear a knock on my bedroom window, it's not the regular three taps that Jack does, our secret code, but hesitant and repeating.

I cautiously open the curtains, and stare at the completely winded face of Daniel Seavey.

"What the—" I open the window before hovering to the side. "What are you doing?"

Daniel steps in rather clumsily, a few stubborn twigs clinging to his clothes and hair dishevelled, like he picked up a fight with Mother Nature.

"Not used to climbing trees?" I grin.

"Ha, ha. Well, I was actually..." He pauses, using hand gestures while explaining, "Wondering if I could stay here pleasepleaseplease."

I tilt my head, pretending to think as he looks utterly panicked, and honestly it's kinda cute. "Well, I'm sorry bro, but..." I shake my head and give a dejected sigh, barely containing my laughter. "It's just, my mom - Nah, I'm just messing with you. Of course!"

"Wow. Phew, thanks so much! Should I sleep on the couch, or?" Daniel rambles, the obvious panic flying out. "I mean, I don't mind anything, really, except for cold places, and I'm sorry that I'm dirty right now, but obviously can't change at the moment..."

"Dude. Relax," I say, concerned that he will die of stressing out too much. "As you can see." I walk to my bunk bed, tapping the wooden post. "Both of us can fit. Ryan and I used to share one - he's my little bro - and obviously we've outgrown sharing rooms, but I still keep it 'cause it's awesome."

"I'm sorry for bunking in, but it's only for tonight."

I sometimes wonder if Daniel knocked into the wall and bruised his shoulder, he'll apologize to it, but I keep the thought to myself. "Bro, I hope everything's okay. You can stay here as long as you like."

"It's only for tonight." Daniel takes off his shoes, placing them neatly by the window sill.

I'm so amused by his politeness, and cross my arms. "Are you top or bottom on the bed?"

"Oh, bottom, if you don't mind." Daniel isn't aware of the implications, which I'm guessing that he is one of those naïve kids, or could be surprisingly dirty-minded.

"Okay, well, I could take my father's sweater. It might be big on you, but warm."

"I'm okay," Daniel murmurs sleepily, rolling onto the bottom bunk.

I shrug and go to my closet, reaching for a blanket resting on the shelf. It's probably been lying there for months, only used during the freezing winters, and I place it on Daniel, feeling a bit like a parent tucking their child to bed.

"Thank you."

"No problem." I hoist myself to the top bunk, and close my eyes.

It's silent for a moment before Daniel whispers, "Zach? I'm scared to go back home."

"Me and Jack will go with you for support."

"'Jack and I.'"

"Huh?"

"It's 'Jack and I' not 'Me and Jack'."