Wrapped Around Your Finger

A loud noise wakes me up in the middle of the night. I sit up in bed, sleepy mind trying to understand what is happening. Then, another noise sounds, coming from my window. I get up, putting on a random shirt, and walk toward it, both confused and a bit scared. I open the glass and look down, a tiny grin forming on my lips when I see Michael with rocks from my mom's garden on his hand.

"Hey!" He whispers just loud enough for me to hear him, not waking anyone else up, putting the rocks back on the floor, and smiles. "You sleep like you're dead. I've been here for almost five minutes." I just laugh, leaning on the parapet, shivering slightly because of the cold breeze. "Come down here." He says and I nod, already starting to close the window. "Oh!" I look down again, smiling at the cute sight of Michael hugging himself, his long-sleeved shirt not being enough to keep him warm. "Do you mind bringing me a jacket?"

I grab a sweatshirt from inside the wardrobe and tiptoe out of the room, knowing that if I wake my parents or siblings I will be grounded for a long time. As soon as I close the back door and slip the key into my pocket, I feel arms around my waist, hugging me from behind, as I am used to, and a tuft of colored hair appears in my vision. "Hey, Mikey." I giggle and turn in his arms to hug him back. "Here, take it, before you have hypothermia and put the blame on me." I hand him the sweatshirt as soon as we let go and he puts it on, putting on the hood and stuffing his hands in his pockets, to warm up as quickly as possible.

We leave the backyard and start walking next to each other on the sidewalk, the street completely silent. We don't say anything until we sit on the sand, watching the waves. "You know it's midnight and we have a rehearsal tomorrow morning, right?" I ask, unable to contain myself. "I don't need more than 5 hours of sleep, but you get really cranky when you're sleepy." He gives me a light elbow, but he's smiling. "Hey, it's true! Last time you didn't sleep 7 consecutive hours we had to put up with you complaining about Pokémon for an hour." I say, laughing.

"Okay, okay, you're right." Michael admits when my laughter dies and I shrug as if to say 'I'm always right'. He rolls his eyes, but doesn't disagree. "I love you, Luke." He says, out of nowhere.

"I love you too, Mikey." I reply, not understanding, but genuinely.

"Sometimes I think about what would happen if I told you everything I think." He continues talking, almost to himself, as if he has forgotten that I am there too. "Maybe you didn't want to be my friend anymore." His eyes are fixed on the sea, thoughtful.

I roll my eyes, pushing him gently, pulling him out of his trance. "Stop being an idiot." I sit closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, feeling him tensing for a millisecond and then relaxing. "I've known you since we both ate dirt. Unless you tell me now that you're, I don't know, planning a mass murder and not including me, I doubt that there is anything that would make me stop being your best friend." I'm not looking at him. "Where's this coming from?" I ask almost in a whisper. "It's everything ok?" He doesn't say anything, just shrugs slightly.

I sigh and get up, cleaning up my pants, and reach out a hand for him, who takes it without hesitation. I pull him a little closer to the sea, still holding his hand, and stop right where the waves break on the beach. "I don't know what's bothering you and, honestly, it doesn't matter." I start, pulling my jacket closer to my torso, the proximity to the water making the breeze even chiller. "But you are going to scream it all out until that bothers you less, got it?"

"But it's midnight." Michael says, but it's clear on his voice that he likes the idea.

"Yeah, your point?" I ask, an eyebrow raised, and he chuckles, giving up on resisting. "Whenever you're ready, Mikey." He just nods and takes a breath, closing his eyes and focusing on whatever is making him upset.