All The Shadows We Made

Chapter 8 - October - Kat

October

Kat

I wake up the morning after Homecoming with a splitting headache, a mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert, and a lot of questions. Why does it smell like old cigarettes and dog? Why is everything so bright? Why does my back feel so cold? I was having a great dream, one with muscled arms holding me close and fingers tangled in my hair.

Things start coming back to me in bits and flashes; Maggie and I getting drunk at the Homecoming bonfire, Jamie tripping over Maggie and how he actually looked pretty adorable in the firelight, seeing Maggie jump onto Mickey's lap and how I suddenly wanted to punch my best friend in the face. And then the rest...

The lack of warmth against my back now makes perfect sense. I'm so petty. Mickey didn't get up to greet me or offer me a seat, so I decided Jamie was the perfect way to show Mickey what he was missing. I remember Jamie leaning against my legs and putting his hand on my thigh, flirting with him all night long after everyone else had gone to bed...

He left without saying a word or waking me, so obviously that's where he wants to leave it. We'll nod at each other in the hallways and at the park and that'll be that.

I get a little pang in my chest when I think that, but I don't have time to wonder about it before Mickey steps quietly out of the back door and pulls his cigarette pack from a side pocket of his black cargo pants. I pull myself up and curl my legs underneath me on the couch so he has room if he wants it. His hair is rumpled and his KoRn shirt is the same one he had on last night. He looks a mess. Man, he's cute. The thought is there, quick as a flash, before I can stop myself. My cheeks warm and I look down. Please don't let him see that. Mickey sinks into the cushion to my right and extends the pack.

"Morning, sunshine. Smoke?"

I nod without looking up. "Thanks." I don't really want to talk to Mickey. This is the first time we've been alone since I literally ran into him last month and I don't want to deal with it. Not yet.

Mickey puts the pack back in his pocket. I offer him my purple lighter and he lights his own cigarette. He looks me over as he takes a drag. "You feeling as rough as you look?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Wow, thanks."

"Oh, come on. You know what I meant. You guys were really going all out last night." Mickey smiles wide, like drunk Maggie and me were the most amusing things he's ever seen.

I try to ignore how Mickey's smile makes my stomach jump. "Yeah...That's not happening again soon. I'm not a huge fan of waking up feeling like death."

Mickey opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again.

I eye him up and take another drag. "What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

A sudden awkwardness penetrates the silence, hazy as our smoke. We've never been awkward before, ever. Mickey and my brains work like Maggie's and mine. We know what the other is thinking without a word. Now I have no idea what he means. It's like a radio station tuned just a little off, like you should be on 101.5 FM and you're on 101.3 instead. Heat rolls off of him in waves I can feel with a foot between us and wish I could scoot a little closer, lean my head on his shoulder. I know it would dissipate this strange, tongue-tied silence. Last year I would have done it without a second thought, but Mickey isn't mine anymore. I'm not allowed.

Since I can't do that, I roll my eyes instead. "Nothing is ever just nothing with you. What?"

"Well, speaking of...How late were you up?" I stop myself from rolling my eyes again. The station is coming in loud and clear. The awkwardness is still there, but it's not because our brains aren't working in tandem. It's because he wants to know if anything happened with Jamie.