From Me to You [Complete]

37

The rest of the evening passes in acceptable if not comfortable companionship –"It's not your turn!" "Who took my bookmark?" My mother and I win euchre after Alice decides I'm a better player –can't wait to tell Monica about that– and I enjoy a nice dinner of pork chops, green beans and pasta salad that I really needed. Andy somehow manages to win Risk but is set to a rematch by Robert, who cannot believe someone could beat him at a game he knows so well. I didn't participate in that one, since I am not the best at geography. Jean, Michael, Ann and I start a game of Monopoly –we try not to be too competitive. I am not great with all of these strategy games, but I try my best. Plus it's just really nice to hang out with everyone, and I manage to sit beside Michael, thereby enabling us to brush arms and hands every so often. I'm positive no one noticed –except maybe Robert, because it's his prerogative to protect his brother after all. After Michael wins, everyone heads to bed at an hour most unlike the last few –before 12AM. Ann lets me have Jean's room and she takes the couch in the living room after everyone clears out. I think my mom pressured her into it but I still appreciate it.

I close the bedroom door behind me, carefully keeping my water glass upright. After putting the glass on the dresser to keep it safe, I finally change into my pyjamas for once. I walk to the window and look out into the darkening evening –it has finally stopped raining. Everything looks beautiful in the dim evening light, dripping with water, but I'm still not going on any adventures tonight –way too wet. I reach out and pull the curtains closed.

When I turn around the room is filled with an eerie glow as the lightness creeping out around the edges of the curtains spreads through half the room, while the other half remains in complete darkness. I walk to the dresser and take out the elastic pins holding my hair. I run Ann's brush through my straggly hair, until my arm gets tired. I shiver suddenly as I set the brush down and realize a window is open.

I walk back to the lighted side of the room and slide my hands under the curtain to shut the window, wrapping my arms around myself to stop the shivering when it's closed. The last thing I need right now is my fever to come back. I crawl underneath the covers, pulling them right up to my chin to push the cold away.

I hear Alice and Marc walking to their room at the end of the hall, discussing something in low voices. I can't make out what they are saying, but I wonder why they stayed up until all of us are in bed for once –maybe they are on to something. I'm sure that Michael and I were careful enough tonight, and I honestly thought our parents were caught up talking, and didn't notice anything going on between us. Although, I guess after I got sick today, they might be paying more attention to me, trying to ensure I stay well-rested.

I'm glad that the rain finally stopped, so that we can have another sunny day tomorrow. Maybe I can finish that letter to Izzy that I started writing in the car. She's the only other person who I write to on a regular basis. I could even include some good tidbits about how things are going with Michael so far. Also, Michael did say that he would show me the convenience store a few blocks away, and it would be good to go in the daytime so that we don't end up missing sleep again. Maybe I can also ask him about using a telephone to talk to my friends. One that has a bit of privacy away from our parents and siblings...and from Michael himself –I don't want him to know everything that I'll say about him to my friends.

I sit up quite suddenly as the silence around me is broken –Alice and Marc were the last people out of bed, and their door closed a little while ago. My heart speeds up and I feel my adrenaline kick in, as I come to my senses. The sound I heard was the bedroom door opening and then closing. I lean back against the wall, squinting through the darkness to see the intruder –contacts may help in the daytime but don't work exceptionally well at night.

Having heard my intake of breath a familiar male voice says, "It's okay, it's me." A hand reaches out towards me, finding my own gripping the covers. The hand uncurls my fingers and covers them instead with a larger, warmer hand that instantly makes me feel safe and still.

Michael slips silently onto the bed beside me, facing me in the dark –remind me to tell him he should be a spy in the next life. I relax, and, now that I am not under the covers, start to shiver. Seeing this, Michael pulls me toward him, wrapping his arms around me, using his body heat to warm me. He kisses my hair, and holds me until the shivers subside. I break away from him and slither under the covers, hoping he will follow suit. He does, edging under the covers and making me realize suddenly that I am in bed with a guy for the first time.

"Amanda," Michael says softly.

"Yea?"

"I'm sorry that you got sick."

I find his hand in the darkness and squeeze it. "It was raining today so I didn't miss out on much."

He doesn't reply for a minute. "I have done a bad job taking care of you so far," he says finally.

I turn toward him. "What?"

He's staring at the ceiling. "Well first, I encourage you to swim over your head, and almost make you drown, and then you get sick because we sneak out every night, and I am not even able to take care of you 'cause that would draw a lot of attention to us ..."

I chew my tongue, thinking about how to reply. I reach up and turn his head toward me so I can look into his eyes in the dark. I've almost gotten used to how intense his gaze is. "It's okay. Honestly. I really feel like none of this was your fault." Before he can interrupt, I continue, "I was the one who broke into your room and made you miss out on sleep that first night. Which was really just an encouragement for you to do the same thing to me last night. I was the one who didn't wear enough sunscreen and got burnt. Also we talked about how stupid I acted at the beach. It was embarrassing and dumb." I blow out a breath, thinking about that conversation again.

He looks at me, not speaking. I squeeze his hand under the covers to reassure him even more. He sighs. "I just don't want to feel useless, I guess."

"You're not," I say sincerely. I feel my eyelids starting to get heavy. "C'mon, let's sleep. You'll feel better in the morning," I say. I curl up so that I am facing him, and close my eyes.

"Okay," he replies, though there's still something unsure in his tone. "Don't oversleep. In case your parents check on you or something," he warns.

"Yea, of course," I say dreamily, already starting to drift. Michael will feel better tomorrow.