HOW NEW YEAR'S EVE MEANS NEW BEGINNINGS
It takes a few more weeks before I gain enough courage to send the note to Micah.
Which sounds ridiculous, because I shouldn't feel so hesitant about this, but there is still a part of me that wonders if this is real.
Thankfully midterm exams have passed, so that stress is officially in the rearview mirror, no longer keeping me awake at night. Unfortunately, Taylor and Tyler officially ended things on the last day of exams.
I haven't thought about it much because Taylor hasn't wanted to talk much. The entire situation sucks, even Micah said he doesn't understand it. Maybe Tyler just isn't the boy Taylor thought he was.
Still sucks, though.
On New Year's Eve, I decide to send the note to Micah. After more weeks than I wanted, I finally have the courage. Which is endlessly stupid because I know he's probably going to reply with some cheesy remark or something grossly cute. I know he won't be mad at me for making him wait a month, but something inside me tells me it can still be a possibility...even though the likelihood is extremely low.
I open up the notes on my phone, scrolling down to the specific one titled, 'to Mic'.
Think of this as a belated I'm-thankful-for-you present, even if it's a month late now. Belated Christmas present, too.
I smirk, shaking my head. I edit the note a little to fit the present date.
I am not good with this sort of thing. I know you probably know that by now. But I worry a lot that what I'm doing isn't right, so just...bear with me. As you have been doing – thank you for that, by the way, being patient. It means more than you'll ever know.
I was not looking for you when you came into my life four months ago. I was looking for some sort of happiness, sure, but I had no idea it would show up in the form of some messy-haired-jock who happens to have shockingly amazing singing ability.
I was looking for someone to join choir. A guy to join choir. I wasn't looking for something like what we have now to come out of it, but God, am I thankful it did anyway.
So the answer to the question that I can practically hear you rehearsing all the way over here is: yes.
I have a problem with committing to things. I'm terribly afraid of the things I cannot control. But for some unknown godly reason, I am trusting you.
You are worth my time. And know that that means a lot coming from me. Because I don't waste my time on people who aren't worthy of my presence. But you are worthy of it, Mic. You're worthy of it and so, so much more. Stars and galaxies and oceans and everything. But since I can't give those to you, I give you my presence, and allow you to give me yours.
I hope I didn't make you wait too long for this and I hope I can get a big hug from you soon. I miss being in your arms already.
I sigh heavily as I type in the last word, having added the last sentence just now because...it felt right. Even if it sounds gross. So, so gross.
I copy the text and open up my messages, going to Micah and I's conversation. The last time he texted me was two hours ago. He's currently at his mother's boyfriend's house – he finally told me the guy's name: Elliot – for the night. Apparently their relationship is becoming a little more serious now. Micah seems okay about it, but he said Roxie is taking a while to truly warm up to Elliot.
After I hit send on the text message, I immediately type a new one right behind it.
>The note is so beyond gross
I want to say something else, but refrain from doing so in case I start babbling over text. That's the worst.
I don't expect him to reply anytime soon, so I head to the shower, leaving my phone on charge on the bed next to a sleeping Bandit.
+++
When I exit the shower, I hear my phone ringing. Rolling my eyes, I shuffle into my leggings and sweatshirt, twisting my hair up into a towel. I bet it's Micah.
"Your phone has been ringing off the hook," Mom says, her arms holding a load of folded laundry. "What'd you do to the boy?"
"Nothing," I chuckle. "I sent him something. He's supposed to be having a family dinner right now, though."
"Apparently not," She replies with a smirk, heading into her room to put clothes up. "I'd go answer him."
"I'm goin', I'm goin'."
I crawl onto my bed, careful not to disturb Bandit. It doesn't matter, though, because the second he feels me crawl onto the bed, he stretches, and crawls right on my chest. And falls back asleep. Spoiled brat.
But I love him.
>Mic: I am speechless
>Mic: And supposed to be eating dinner
>Mic: Oh screw this can I call you?
After that there's no more texts, just missed calls and missed FaceTime calls. I roll my eyes as another regular phone call comes through. I answer him this time, my heart beating a little faster than usual.
"Hey."
"Oh my god, hey honey."
I nearly melt into my pillows. "Hi," I say again, softer.
"That note was beautiful," Mic pauses, sighing contentedly, "and absolutely worth the wait."
"Really?"
"Yes, Pipes. God." His tone is more exasperated by the second, but not annoyed. He sounds...happy. Like he's content and light and floating on a cloud. "Can I tell a secret?"
I giggle, petting Bandit gently, feeling him begin to purr. "Sure."
"I kinda cried at the..." He pauses. "'You're worth my time,' that part. That part got me."
"Aw, Mic," I sigh. "I didn't wanna make you cry."
"They were happy tears, promise," He breathes. "But hey, quick question before I have to go back—"
"Shoot."
"How'd you know I was rehearsin' askin' you to be my girlfriend?"
I smile widely, chuckling. "Your little sister has excellent hearing. She heard you one night and texted me all excited."
"Damn her."
I giggle. "Go back to dinner, Mic."
"Fine, fine, I'm goin'." He pauses, like he doesn't really want to. I know he doesn't. I don't either. His voice is quiet, almost timid, "Happy New Year, baby."
I smile. I don't think he realizes it's not technically the new year yet, but who cares. "Happy New Year, dork," I breathe, hearing him chuckle affectionately. "We can FaceTime before bed if you want. Like when the clock hits—"
"Can we please?"
I laugh. "Sure. I'd like that."
"Me too."
"Now go back to dinner!"
I make him hang up after that, even though he whines about it. I told him all he had to do was wait four more hours and then he could call me back. He grumbled, but hung up anyway after I called him a dork.
I carefully slide Bandit off my chest, going to the bathroom to take my hair down. As I'm running a brush through my hair, mom leans against the doorframe of the bathroom.
"You can invite him over if you want."
I smile, shaking my head. "He's at his mom's boyfriend's house. Thanks though." I pause, deciding to tell her. "We made it like...official, I guess."
"I figured." She smiles softly. "I really like him. He's a good kid."
"Me too." I smile sheepishly, my cheeks tinting a light shade of red. Time for subject change. "Wasn't dad supposed to be back today?"
Mom sighs heavily, shaking her head. I know this scene all too well. "His flight got delayed. The airport lost power and isn't scheduled to have it back until tomorrow."
I frown. "Dang."
"Yeah," Is all she says before walking away, down the hallway to the living room.
Sometimes I wonder how she copes with it – dad being gone all the time. I know it takes a toll on her, I can see it some days more than others. I just wonder how she's stayed this long, how her trust hasn't broken even when it's wavered. And it worries me that one day her trust and patience might break.
I hope I'm moved out if that day ever does come.
I try not to think about it too much as I go back to my room, laying down on my bed. I cradle Bandit in my arms, letting him sleep and purr as loud as he feels like it. I think he's more snoring now, though.
My phone buzzes beside me. I'm ready to pick it up and yell at Micah for not spending time with his family, but it's not him.
>Tay🌸: I just invited Luke over what is wrong with me
My eyes widen. Holy shit. Really?
>Wait what
>Seriously?
>Tay🌸: Yes seriously I'm freaking out
>Tay🌸: We've been talking for a few days now and apologized to each other for kind of being assholes both ways and now he wants to hang out tonight so I just invited him over
A huge grin breaks out onto my face. I knew they would make it back to one another at some point.
>Okay well you're coming over tomorrow to give me full details
>Tay🌸: I'm sorry for not telling you sooner 😭I just didn't know if we were gonna just apologize and go separate ways but I guess obviously now we're not
>Don't apologize!! If he kisses you tonight though I swear to GOD
>Tay🌸: ...I wouldn't mind it
>GIRL
>Tay🌸: Yes?
>Tay🌸: Shit he's here. I'll text you later!
>Have fun be safe and I expect details tomorrow!!
I set my phone aside after that, feeling breathless. I wasn't entirely expecting her and Luke to patch things up. He's been avoiding her like the plague since the fall concert, so I figured he was going to avoid her for forever. I'm glad they're working through things, though. They've been friends for so long, I'd hate to see that end because of one silly thing.
Still, it doesn't take an idiot to know Luke has been head-over-heels for Taylor since freshman year.
+++
The hours pass slowly, but eventually I'm sitting on the couch, awaiting a FaceTime call from Micah. It's half an hour until midnight when he finally calls, but it isn't him I see when I answer the call.
"Rox!" I exclaim, laughing.
I hear shuffling and then Micah is in the corner of the frame. "She wanted to call you first."
I smile. "That's fine. How's my favorite little sister?"
Roxie's face splits into a grin. "Awesome. See? I like her. I'm her favorite." She nudges Micah in the ribs with her elbow.
"Yeah? Well she's my favorite. Because she's my girlfriend."
Rox gasps. "No way! You finally asked?"
"I just told him yes in a note I had written for him. It's been a while since you told me you heard him rehearsin'," I explain, trying not to laugh at Micah's face.
"Yeah, thanks for spoilin' it." He narrows his eyes at his little sister.
Roxie just grins. "You're welcome. Anyway, here." She hands Mic his phone back. "I'm gonna go play with Arnold."
"That's Eliot's dog," Micah explains, shifting around so he's in the frame. He settles into the couch, looking extremely comfy. "Hey honey."
"Hey," I chuckle, trying to hide my burning cheeks. "Where is everyone?"
"In the living room," He breathes, pausing to yawn loudly. "I'm in the sun room with the TV in here. Kinda needed some alone time."
"I feel that." I nod in understanding. "How was dinner?"
He shrugs. "Good, I guess. Eliot can cook really well."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
It's quiet after that. Micah stares off at the TV, the colors flashing on his face as he chews on the inside of his cheek. A nervous habit of mine that I'm not happy he adopted.
"You okay?" I ask gently, not wanting to force him into talking but also genuinely worried about him.
He nods. "Yeah. Just—" He cuts himself off, sighing, not knowing what to say or how to say it. It takes him a moment before he speaks again. "I really like Eliot. A lot more than I should. But he hasn't...given me any reason to hate him." He pauses, looking down at the camera. "I know mom really likes him, too."
"Yeah," I reply, not really sure what else to say.
Apparently it's all he needs, though. "And it's stupid, but I miss my dad. I didn't know him for long, don't really remember him, but I miss him. And I shouldn't. He's a dick. He left mom because she got pregnant – somehow all her fault, right? – and he hasn't tried contacting any of us since, not even mom. So I shouldn't miss him. And I didn't, until Eliot came along. Now I just...don't know. I don't know."
I can see how distraught he is over the situation and it breaks my heart to see him like this, so I try my hardest to just let him know I'm here. "I don't get it really, I mean, my dad has been around – sort of – since I was born. So I don't get what you're feelin', but it's not stupid...or wrong, and—" I pause, chewing on my lower lip. "I haven't met him, but Eliot sounds like a good guy. Like he'd be a good father figure for you and Rox. He doesn't have to be, though. He can stay Eliot and only as Eliot, but I just...I think maybe give him a chance?"
"I'm tryin'."
"I know you are." I smile sadly. "You've dealt with this really well. I know some people who'd be a lot more resentful than you."
He scoffs, almost laughing. "I was pissed when mom first introduced us to him."
"So you've made progress then," I chuckle, but still remaining serious. "I'm proud of you."
Micah looks at me then, his eyebrows furrowing as he isn't really sure he heard me right. His face softens after a second and he smiles softly. "Thank you." He hesitates. "I'd like you to meet him one day."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He nods. "Like see if he gets your approval."
I laugh loudly. "Because I have such a good judgement of people after a first impression."
He looks at me weirdly.
"Are you forgettin' what happened after we met that first time?"
"Oh," He laughs as the realization crosses his face. "Good god, you've made progress."
I'm quiet for a second. I haven't even fully explained things to him, so he doesn't know, but even though he doesn't, that sentence still means a lot more than he'll ever know. "I have."
"I'm proud of you, honey."
I smile. "Thank you."
Mom enters the living room with freshly popped popcorn in a bowl, plopping down on the couch next to me. She sits the bowl between us and grabs the remote, turning the sound on the TV up.
I look back at Micah tiredly. "I guess it's the five minute countdown. Mom always makes popcorn."
"I see that," He chuckles. "Hey momma."
I turn my phone so mom can see him. She smiles, waving. "Hey Micah."
The next five minutes pass achingly slow, but I will never trade them for anything in the world. Micah's adorable face as he watches the countdown from Times Square is worth picturing – which I do, by the way. I take loads of screen shots.
"I wanna go back to Times Square one day," Micah wonders aloud. We're a minute away now.
"Yeah?" I reply, munching on popcorn. "I've never been."
"You told me." He's still staring at the TV, but he suddenly looks back at me. "We should go someday."
I smile. "Yeah. We should."
When the clock hits midnight, Micah blows me a kiss to suffice for the fact that he's not physically here next to me. I blow one back that he pretends to catch in his hand and stuff in his pocket. He's a dork.