What Now ⇔ Muke ✓

[3] Michael

LUKE

It's cold out- I probably should have brought a jacket, but I was already out the door and I'm too lazy to turn back around to grab one.

The basketball courts aren't too far away from Ashton's house, surprisingly. It stands deserted, nothing but the slight wind making sound. A lone basketball has been shoved into one of the thick bushes on the left side of the basketball court, and I sigh in relief. I can imagine myself walking all the way over here and ending up with no basketball to practice with.

I walk over and scoop up the ball, cradling it in my hands. It's larger than I'm used to, but given the fact that the last basketball I used was when I was fourteen, that's to be expected. I bounce it against the ground a few times, trying to get back into my basketball mode. The sound of the ball dribbling against the hard ground echoes through the night and I pray that nobody hears me. I want to be alone to practice tonight.

I dribble around the court a few times before attempting a layup. The ball flies through the air and soars straight past the basket, crashing into the overgrowth of plants behind it. I groan, running my hands through my hair. This might be harder than I thought.

Once I retrieve the ball, I decide to start with just a few short shots at the foul line. I stand behind the short line drawn with old, faded paint, and start shooting. I miss all of them, but one of them I actually hit the backboard. That's a start, I guess.

On my twenty-sixth try, I finally make a shot. I watch it smack the backboard and somehow go through the net, bouncing down back to the ground into my hands. Holy shit, I just made a basket!

Encouraged by this small achievement, I continue working at the foul line with a new enthusiasm until I'm able to make nearly all the shots there. I move back to the three point line and start shooting there. It takes me a bit, but I can feel myself getting back into the champion basketball mode I was a while back.

As I am running through another successful layup though, I throw the ball a second too late and I miss the backboard completely. It flies toward the plants, but instead of hearing the soft crunching of dead leaves, I hear a voice.

"Fuck!" the voice curses, somewhere in the darkness behind the plants. I don't know why anyone would be back there. There is nothing but trees and possibly some snakes.

"Shit. Are you okay?" I hurry toward the pitch blackness and step over the leaves. I can't see anything, and I fumble for my phone, switching it on and letting the faint glow of my screen make a tunnel of light to break the dark.

After a moment of searching, the light catches on something bright. Is that, purple?

I finally notice a boy, looking a little younger than me, standing before me. The purple turns out to be his hair, which sticks widely up in all directions. The boy is pale with a dark t-shirt on and skinny jeans. He looks up and squints against the light, and his grey-green eyes look almost...afraid...to see me. I also notice a series of bruises running down his arms and a swollen eye, turning darker by the second.

The boy pulls his hand up the cover his eye and a wave of guilt engulfs me. I gave him a black eye!

"I'm so sorry!" I cry, and the boy flinches. "I swear I didn't mean to, oh God, I-"

"It's fine." The boy spoke. His voice is deep and slightly rough. "Whatever."

"I..." I trail off, and then quickly gesture for him to step out from the thick trees and onto the basketball court, where there are more lights and I can see him better. He hesitates for a minute before slowly following me onto the court. "What's your name?"

"Michael." He shifts awkwardly on his heels, looking anywhere but at me. His lips are cherry red and plump, and a black eyebrow piercing catches the light. I look at his lilac hair again and figure that I probably would have seen him around school at some point of the day. It's not like it's a big building.

"Why haven't I seen you around anywhere?" I ask him. He just shrugs and avoids looking at me some more. I stand there silently for a moment before I remember I never even told him my name.

"Oh!" I face palm myself, and Michael finally looks at me, giving me a look I can't really comprehend.

"I'm Luke. Luke Hemmings. I just moved here, like, two days ago. Three days ago? I think it was three." My awkwardness fills the thick air between us like honey and I talk some more in a weak effort to clear it.

I'm blabbering and I can't seem to stop, but I finally have gotten Michael to look at me and I feel like I have to keep talking in order to keep his attention.

"I moved here from the city to live with my cousin Ashton. Do you know him? Ashton Irwin? If you don't know him then you've probably heard him. He's quite loud." I say, not really thinking as I talk. I notice Michael's eyes spark in interest for a second when I say the word city, so I begin talking some more.

"Have you been to the city? It's a great place, really, quite different from here. There's a lot more people for one, and a lot more stores and lights. It's a lot louder there too, so I haven't exactly gotten used how quiet it is here, you know?"

Stop talking Luke, stop it.

I finally shut my mouth and squeeze my lips together so hard, I think my lip ring is making a bruise form there. Michael sort of nods his head a bit at my talking before moving towards the edge of the court, back toward the trees.

"Nice to meet you, Luke." Michael says, his voice low. I nod, watching him as he walks back into the pitch black. He never answered my question before. Why haven't I seen him around school? Did I just miss him today?

"You too, Michael!" I hurriedly add before he swiftly disappears between the trees. The sound of the river continues to rush in my ears before I snap out of whatever trance I was in and practice dribbling up and down the court.

I shoot blindly from the entire other side of the court, my head filled with thoughts of the purple haired boy with the bruises lining his pale arms, and I barely hear the sound the ball makes when it glides through the net.

Michael.

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A/N YOU MET MICHAEL WOO

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