My eyes slowly cracked open in the morning, burning from the sudden introduction of light from my thin curtains. The TV was on, playing some telenovela I didn't recognize and couldn't understand. The blanket was crumpled in a ball on the floor. Mikey was staring at me with a worried expression. "Wh-wha-what?" I mumbled, blinking to try and get adjusted to the light. I realized Mikey plugged the phone in by the couch and was holding it, reciever humming, his finger dangling precariously above the number '9'.
"You were saying weird stuff in your sleep," he said. "You weren't breathing, either." I stretched my arms, and pushed the phone reciever away from Mikey's face.
"I'm okay, Mikey, really," I groaned. I ran my hand through my hair. Ew. Greasy. "Mmph... I need to take a shower." I mumbled. My neck and back were killing me. Rolling my neck and twisting my back to try and pop my joints, I stumbled down the hall to the bathroom and got in the shower.
It wasn't until I was under the showerhead with the water running that I noticed I was out of shampoo.
"Damnit," I mumbled. "I'm out of shampoo." I cleared my throat. "MIKEY!" I yelled. May as well take advantage of someone else in the house then leave the shower, freeze, waste water, and have to mess with the temperature again when I got back in. That knob had two different temperatures and it was near impossible to get in the middle of them: Satan himself's throne or Siberian wastelands.
"What?"
"Could you get me a bottle of shampoo? Linen closet, bottom shelf, right next to the towels!"
"Okay,"
I heard footsteps muffled by socks go down the hall, the linen closet door opening and closing, and a knock on my door. "Just leave it in the hall," I said. "Thanks."
"Anytime," I heard footsteps go back down the hall, then the springs of the couch squeak. I jumped out of the shower, opened the door, grabbed the shampoo, and finished my shower.
When my hair was dry, I changed back into my clothes from the day before, because those were the only clothes I had left.
"I need to do laundry," I said, observing the current wardrobe situation in my closet.
"Let me help," said Mikey, who was sitting on my bed and flicking the bells on an old alarm clock on my nightstand. I laughed. "Sure," I replied, "And would you stop ringing that bell? It's driving me nuts."
"That was my objective," snickered Mikey.
"You're such an ass sometimes," I laughed.
As we were loading the clothes into the washer that was located in the guest bedroom I had no use for, Mikey was admiring my music taste that was displayed in the form of band T-shirts that I inherited from my cousin Thomas. "Metallica... Green Day... Godsmack... Misfits... Rancid... Iron Maiden... Hey! I have that same Anthrax shirt... Wow," he laughed. We finished getting all the dirty clothes loaded in a matter of minutes. It wasn't that difficult to sort colors because all I had was black, but hey.
I looked at the hallway clock when we were done. "Shit," I said. "I need to go to work."
"So do I,"
"You should go home after work," I said.
"Why?"
"Because you don't live here, and I'm fine by myself. I'm sure your pet gerbil that you told me about last week needs some company, too."
"Whatever," he said, and we left for work.
********
After a long and horrible day at Dollar General, I was about to go home when I saw the piece of paper with Mikey's address on it poking out from the cover of the mirror on my pull-down sun shield. I'll surprise him, I thought. I drove to the outskirts of town and through the nice suburb where Mikey lived. All the houses looked the same, two stories with a front porch and a cute tree in the yard, colors varying a little, some houses had a chair on the porch or a gnome collection in the rock garden. I stopped in the road when I saw the one that was supposed to be Mikey's house; the one with the weeds taking over the yard. I pulled the car next to the sidewalk. What if you walk in on him making out with some other girl? This wasn't planned, after all. You can't stand another heartbreak, you're too fragile. "No, I'll be fine," I said, and walked boldly up the drive, which luckily contained Mikey's car.
There was a sign next to the door. "Way Residence", I read. This was Mikey's house. Which other 'Ways' were there? North, south, east, and west? I didn't think so. I rang the doorbell. I heard someone walk to the door. When the door opened, a man with black hair and wearing sweatpants and a Bon Jovi shirt looked at me suspiciously. "I don't want to buy anything and we've already found Jesus," he said, annoyed and starting to close the door.
"Wait," I said. "Is Mikey home?" the man looked at me and then smirked.
"Ooh, so you're the lady Mikey wouldn't shut up about since he got home from work. I'm Gerard, Mikey's brother." He turned his back towards me. "MIKEY!" he called.
"What?" I heard a mumble from somewhere in the house.
"Your girlfriend's here. Get your ass out of bed and put some pants on." Gerard yelled. I blushed.
"Damnit, Gerard, I need to take a shower. Just go make her some food and show her your art or something." this time Gerard blushed. I felt so bad, I made Mikey's brother feel bad, and made Mikey feel unprepared. Note to self: No surprise visits from now on. Gerard walked into the kitchen. "Do you want anything to eat? Like, we have chips and shit if you want..."
"No, I'm g--"
Mikey yelled from the bathroom, "Eat, Ember! Gerard, just give her some plain ones, she likes those." Gerard pulled a half-eaten bag of chips out from under the couch. "Here," he said. "I just ate a whole bag the other day, watching the Cops marathon."
"Cops is a great show," I said.
"So, what's your name again?" Gerard asked, watching TV.
"Ember Darkwood," I said. "I know my last name is stupid, bu-"
"It's better than 'Way'," Gerard laughed.
Mikey showed up. His hair was still wet, and it looked like he didn't bother to comb it after he healf-heartedly dried it. "Hey, Ember," he said, smiling. "Thanks for stopping by. The surprise was nice."
Gerard was sitting on the couch making kissy faces. "Mikey and Ember sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.."
"Gerard!" Mikey yelled, face ruby red.
"Mwah, mwah," Gerard mocked.
"Not cool!" Mikey yelled, and slugged Gerard's arm.
"Did you wanna go someplace...?" I said.
"Yeah," Mikey said, face flaming red. "To get away from this dickhead!" He pointed at Gerard, who was still making kissy faces.
We left. "Where did you want to go?" I asked.
"How about the park?" He suggested. I nodded.
"Use protection!" Gerard laughed as we closed the door on the way out.
********
At the park, the sun was already setting. The grass, pond, trees, path, stone benches, and playset were all lit up in golden glory, casting defined shadows on the gold-emerald grass. I sighed. "It's beautiful." Mikey smiled. The sun lit his face up, the angles and curves and shading of his features, the coffee-and-creamer colored hair falling in his face, the black beanie, the glasses. It was too gorgeous to be real. "So are you." he said. I blushed. "You smooth motherfucker," I replied.
Suddenly, he smiled mischeviously and poked my arm. "You're. It." He started running away.
"Aw, really?" I said, still standing next to where Mikey was mere moments ago. Mikey was already halfway across the park.
"Come on," he said, stopping for a moment. I laughed. "Mikey, you know I can't run worth shit!"
"Just come on!"
I sighed, took a deep breath, and reluctantly chased after him.
We ended up at a big oak tree, which Mikey started to climb. "You're kidding." I laughed, out of breath already.
"Nope," Mikey said, smiling. "I'll help you up, here." He reached his hand down and I took it.
We sat on the biggest branch, about halfway up the tree, and watched the sunset, holding hands. "You know," Mikey said. "I have anxiety. Not bad, but bad enough to be a handicap in social situations."
"I'm sorry," I said, resting my head on his shoulder.
I could feel Mikey sigh. He shook his head. "Look," he said, pointing to a branch in a nearby tree. "It's a bird making its nest for babies in the spring," I looked closer, and there was a little robin, putting pieces of cloth scraps, dryer lint, dead grass, and feathers into a half-made nest. Mikey whispered in my ear, "That could be us someday," Just the thought of it made me gushy. But then I realized, it could be us someday. "Nah," I said instead. "I'm better with just a gerbil, maybe even a hamster, like the one you supposedly have." Mikey snorted and nudged me in the arm.
After the sun set, and the colorful snowflake lights lining the path were lit up, Mikey helped me down from the tree. "Let's get you home," Mikey said.
*******
When Mikey was driving to my apartment, I saw strange headlights that were following us all the way to my apartment building. "Mikey," I said. "I think someone's following us." Mikey looked in the rear view mirror. "I think you're right," he said. "He's probably just drunk and will leave by tomorrow, but for now, it's not safe. I'll try to lose him." The headlights flashed on and off consistently, and it was really freaking me out. I couldn't see the driver because of the glare from his headlights, but I was almost certain it was a drunk, creepy, horny old man that I just assume didn't exist.
Mikey drove to the suburb with the most confusing street system, namely his, and began taking random twists and turns to lose the guy's trail. We ended up in front of Mikey's house. I belive it was not purely coincedential.
He parked the car in the driveway, and we ran up the drive and into the house. Some of the little solar-powered lamps bordering the front walk were broke, and others were cracked and were fizzing in and out of life. Mikey opened the door and let me in, and he followed. Gerard was still watching TV. "Brought her back for a little fun, didn't you?" Gerard laughed, stuffing his face with chips.
"No, Gerard," Mikey sighed, trying to contain anger. "We were getting followed, and I decided it wasn't safe for her."
"Sure ya were," Gerard smirked.
"Just... Just shut up, Gerard," Mikey mumbled. "Here, Ember, the guest room is this way."
"Why not your room?" Gerard mocked. I looked back at him, and he gave me the thumbs up to show he was kidding. Mikey rubbed his temple. "Sorry about the loaf of baloney that the doctors called a human boy," he groaned.
"It's fine," I said. "I'd say 'I understand', but unfotunately I don't exactly have a brother."
Mikey walked me down the hall, walls plastered with antique plates and old photographs that were all crooked on their mounts.
"Well, here you go," Mikey said, opening the door to the guest bedroom. It had a double bed with black sheets and a white comforter, with black and white pillows, a dresser, a nightstand, and a desk, complete with a lamp, pencils, and paper.
"It used to be Gerard's, but when Mom left us, along with dad, and our grandma was all that was left, Gerard got Mom's room." I walked in. "Sleep well," Mikey said. "If anything bothers you, I'm here."
I started thinking. This is probably all a dream, and I'll wake up in my apartment, crashed on the couch, suffering from schizophrenia pill overdose, rent due, and no food in the fridge. But if it is a dream, it's a good dream, and I'm not planning to wake up any time soon.