Bright sun shined in my face, waking me up no matter how hard I tried to fight it. With a yawn, I checked the time to see that it was already 10AM. As I stretched, I felt my body ache, reminding me of all the dancing I did the night before.
My mind went back to last night's party and how the cops came. But before we snuck out, I don't think I remembered a time when I was that happy in the last year. Miles made me laugh, dance, and remember what it was to be carefree.
The memory of driving him here and spending the night ran across my mind in a slight panic. He spent the night. He was in my bed. I looked up to see my bed already made and empty. The only thing on it was Miles' Gucci jacket he wore last night, a reminder that he was once here. My eyes lingered on the empty bed as if it would call him back, feeling myself soar with disappointment. A part of me wanted him to be here when I woke up, but I should have known that he would leave before anyone woke to save himself the embarrassment.
As I pushed myself out of bed, I felt my world spin slightly. Yup, I danced too hard.
My eyes glanced at my shirtless body, hoping he didn't see the hot pink bra that I wore. A T-shirt I stole from Tristen was pulled hastily over my head before I headed downstairs.
As I opened my bedroom door, laughter and music filled the house from downstairs. It was a sound I hadn't heard in far too long. The combination instantly embraced me, warming my soul like a hug. Emotions, memories filled my mind as I remembered times when Dad would play music on the weekends and Everly would sing along since she was often an early riser.
Unable to think about it any longer, I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself to keep it together.
Breathe
Dad's voice echoed my mind, forcing me to take another breath. I felt my stomach growl, signaling I had to eat something or I would get hangry. As I walked down the stairs, I heard Miles' voice as well. "No, you flip them like this," he said as Everly laughed.
"And it looks like you're a pro," she retorted at him.
I walked into the kitchen and saw Miles trying to flip a pancake over the stove. Everly was right beside him, filming, while Mom sat on a barstool and oversaw everything.
Miles turned to face me with a smile. His eyes were bright and awake, with no signs of a hangover in sight, which made me surprised since he drank so much last night. I thought for sure he'd be nursing a hangover and fuzzy eyes. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he stated to me.
Sleeping Beauty? I liked that. "Good morning." I smiled as I sat down next to Mom on the other bar stool. I wiped my eyes, trying to wake up, making me wonder if I was really seeing things correctly.
Mom threw me a look, wondering what happened last night. She was clearly worried about the whole thing by the way she looked at me. "He didn't feel well enough to go home on his own," I whispered, trying to make sure he didn't hear it.
"Yeah, and Isla was a gem of a friend, and let me crash here for the night. She didn't want me to get in an accident on my way home," Miles said as he turned to face us with a smile.
Oh, he was smooth. I nodded. "That's exactly what happened."
"Ok, I trust you. But I don't want this to become a habit," she said firmly.
"He's just a friend. Nothing happened," I said, repeating what Miles said with a smile.
Miles nodded. "Yes, just platonic."
Those words were like rocks in my stomach. I didn't like them, and I couldn't help but wonder if he remembered what happened last night. How he said his life was better since I came into it, and I felt the same about him. I was thinking we had something more than a platonic relationship, and I thought he believed the same.
"Ok, the first batch of pancakes done!" Everly said with a smile as she put the pancakes in front of Mom and me.
I looked at them and smiled, knowing that Saturday morning pancakes were Dad's thing. It was tradition, but when Dad got really sick, we stopped doing them. As the smell wafted in front of my face, I realized I missed them more than I knew. "They look amazing."
"Miles cooked them. I just suggested it," Everly said with a smile.
I looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Miles."
"Not a problem," he said with a smile, then turned back to the stove to flip another one.
"Miles, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable, eat with us," Mom said as she got up from the barstool to get plates out.
Miles turned off the stove, then walked over to the counter. "Thanks." Miles sat next to me and let out a heavy sigh, as if cooking tired him. "I can't remember the last time I had pancakes."
"Well, stop talking and eat," Everly said with a chuckle as she spread Nutella on her pancakes.
"Ok then," he laughed out as he dished himself a plate.
"Everly, try to eat some pancake with your Nutella," Mom said as she poked Everly lightly.
Everly quickly put a bite into her mouth and smiled. "Sorry. I can't hear you over my chewing."
Light heartedness filled the tone of the morning, making me laugh. For the first time in a year, there wasn't a heaviness around us. We were laughing, joking; these things hadn't filled the house in so long. I laughed at them as I dished up a pancake and stretched again, realizing that my body wasn't waking up as quickly as I would want it to.
"How was the party last night? Miles wouldn't share a word, telling me I had to wait until you came down," Everly said and threw Miles a look.
He laughed with a mouth full of food.
It probably was because he remembered little from the party. "It was good. Once again, someone called the cops on us. I'm convinced it's someone at the party because Zoe lives in the middle of nowhere."
"Any good stories to share? Did anyone recognize Miles?" Everly asked.
I shook my head. "No, actually, no one recognized him. Maybe because they were all a little too drunk by the time we came," I said as I thought about last night.
"Wow, I'm amazed."
I actually was too. For as famous as he was, I was surprised that no one caught on that he was there.
"It was the beanie that I wore last night. No one recognizes me when I wear it," Miles said with confidence as if that was his secret.
I laughed as I pushed him lightly. Did he really think a hat could hide him? He had to be joking, but he looked serious. "That's honestly the stupidest thing I have heard all day."
Mom glared at me, warning that it was too blunt. "Be nice."
"He deserved it," I said as I took a bite of pancake.
Miles chuckled in silence as the conversation continued.
Before long we were cleaning up from the morning of food. "Go, I've got the cleaning covered," Mom said, shooing us away.
I needed no more convincing. With a nod and a smile, I took Miles to the back deck, where the sun shined strongly on us. The sun hit me with such force that I tilted my head to feel the warmth on my face.
This morning was something I didn't want to end. I think that this was the first time we actually felt like a family in months, maybe even in a year. Once again, Miles pushed us to be like this. He had a habit of pushing us in all the right ways.
I looked at Miles, who had a frown across his face, lost in his own thoughts. He shook his hand then looked into the woods that surrounded the backyard as if he would find some kind of answer there.
I wondered what he was thinking of, I wondered what brought that frown to his face, instead I said something completely different. "I thought you would be gone when I woke up."
He replaced his frown quickly with a smirk as he leaned against the porch railing beside me. "I thought so too."
"What made you stay?"
He shrugged. "Your sister. I walked down the stairs and there she was, dancing around the kitchen like nothing else mattered. She danced terribly, but that didn't bother her. She saw me slipping on my shoes, and asked if I would help make pancakes as she continued to dance as if it didn't faze her I was a pop star. She seemed so real and wasn't trying to be something else for me. I don't see that often, but it made me want to stay."
"So, she didn't freak out on you like she did last night?"
He shook his head. "No. She acted like I was just one of your friends."
"Mom must have talked to her because she's a huge Kit Keen fan," I said with a chuckle.
"Well, this morning she didn't let it show. Her normalcy made me stay. It was like she wasn't trying to impress me, but treated me as if I was just some normal person. She made me feel like I was a part of this family, not just a friend of yours, but someone that was involved in all of your lives. I forgot what that felt like."
I nodded. Before Dad died, that was something that we were all good at, inclusion. When we met someone and we liked them, we just wanted to be as open as possible. But recently, we were all in our own worlds to care about much else. "We're all good at welcoming people."
He smiled. "I needed that, and I still do."
What he didn't know is that I needed him, too. He pushed me to do things I thought I was too broken to do. I needed his company and his attention since he reminded me I wasn't too weird and that people actually liked me for being as different as I was.
"Thank you for bringing me here last night," Miles said as he took a seat on the porch's wooden step.
I sat down next to him and nodded as I looked at our wooded backyard. "Sure thing. You were in no condition to go home alone. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."
"Thank you for caring for me," he said with sincerity as if he hadn't felt cared for in a while.
I chuckled. "It's what any friend would do."
His guarded eyes said I was wrong. "I need more friends like you."
I smiled. "At least you have one." I was committed to being in his life as long as he wanted me to be. I hope that was forever, but I knew that everyone I tried to befriend eventually left at some point. But I would be there until the end for him, whenever that would be.
He nodded as he thought about it. "Sometimes I feel like people only care about my voice and my fame. They don't actually care about anything else of mine."
Two months ago, I would say that I didn't understand what he was talking about. I didn't know what it was like to be popular or having that 'it' thing. But being with him and talking to Zoe, it was clear that people didn't care about his personality, they just wanted his fame. "Look, I'm always here if you want to talk about it."
He put his hand on mine and smiled. "Thank you." We were silent for a moment until he spoke up again, "Sometimes I wonder if I died, would people care about me? Would they think, 'what could I have done to help him' or would they just say, 'such a waste of talent'?"
The rough peach pit that suddenly formed in my throat was hard to choke down as his words sank in. I wasn't sure what he wanted me to answer it, and if so, how could I? He had never said anything like this before and as I stared at him, something in his eyes yelled for help, but I didn't know what to say. I never had these thoughts before, not even when my father died. But there was something that told me he had these thoughts before. In the silence, I squeezed his hand, telling him I was here.
"I want them to know me, not just my work. But everyone seems to suffocate me. They tell me what to say, what to think, how to act, how to dress. They tell me if I do this, then I will be perfect. But that's too hard to do, and I get burnt out. People are constantly trying to read me, but that's not me. I'm so fake, everyone in LA is fake and I hate it."
"You aren't fake, you're so real with me."
He smiled lightly at me as he cupped my cheek, humoring me. "That's because, for the first time since I made it big, I feel like I don't have to be someone I'm not with you."
Pain was engulfed in his eyes, his soul was crushing, and no one saw it but me. Miles needed help, he needed love, support, and someone to be there for him, and maybe that was why he was in Redding, for an escape.
"You know, I just started to write music because it was an outlet for me. I was often picked on at school and my siblings weren't helpful, so I wrote about it. I didn't think about getting famous. I just wrote because I liked it as a hobby. But now, I feel like everyone wants to be my friend but behind my back, they still pick on me."
"They're cruel. Don't listen to them."
"It's hard when I'm on every tabloid," he said with a cynical chuckle.
I nodded. "Yeah. I know," I said as I thought about what I had read about him.
"I didn't drink before I became famous. I didn't care for it. But now, it seems like it's the only thing that helps me relax and not think about my problems. But since I have been with you, I feel more at home than I have felt in a long time."
I smiled lightly. I was starting to believe that what he said to me last night was true.
We were silent for a few as we listened to the cricket's chirp, confused that the sun was out. "Your family is amazing," Miles said, changing the subject.
That is one way to describe them. My family was more amazing with my father around. Miles would have liked him since he was just as unique as me. We would spend hours talking about music, reading into it. Dad liked I was different because he was just as different. We were two peas in a pod but now I was nothing, no match to be with me. "You haven't met all of them. I still have a brother you have to impress."
"Tristen, right?"
I nodded with a smile. "That's him."
"Everly says he's mean."
I laughed. "Everly thinks everyone's mean who tells her what to do."
"You and Tristen are close?"
"Yeah. very close," I said. "You talk little about your siblings. Are you guys close?"
He shrugged as he thought about it. "We used to be when I was young and we grew apart, but then I moved out here and things became more... different. For whatever reason, they fell out of touch."
"Do you miss them?"
"With my whole heart."
"Then tell them. It takes two people to make things awkward. Try your best to be yourself again and reach out to them. Make them know you care."
He nodded with a small smile. "I'll have to try that."
We were silent for a moment as we looked into the woods, trying to find the answers to life's deepest questions within the darkness of the shade.
"Look, I think I said a few things that were out of line last night," Miles said finally.
I felt my heart stop. This was the conversation that I didn't want to have. I wanted to cling to the hope that he meant all of those things. "It's not a big deal."
He shook his head, causing his blondish hair to catch the sun and turn golden red. His dark green eyes looked right into mine, as if trying to read my mind. "I wasn't in the right mind."
"Do you remember what you even said?"
"No. But I know I always say stupid things."
I frowned at him. I did not like this. My heart was getting pulled along on the side of the road, hitting rocks and debris, causing bruising all because of him.
"What did I say?"
I shook my head at him, wanting to end this conversation before I broke down into tears. He had my heart in his hands and he didn't even realize it, and I was in too deep to run away. "You know what, it doesn't matter," I said as I stood up from my seat just in time for Everly to come out.
"Tristen just called saying that he can't come home for fall break next week," she said to me.
Just as I thought this morning was perfect, it seemed to explode in a matter of minutes. What was his excuse this time? He was too busy? I could have seen this, he got a new life; he didn't need us anymore. He was so flaky, and that was his downfall.
"Don't take it personally, Isla, but he said that he got a girlfriend, and he's spending the week with her parents in Tahoe."
"Wow, he found himself a trophy girl, it sounds like," I said with spite, feeling suddenly moody.
Miles pulled out his phone as he noticed my change in mood. "Hey, I have loved staying here, but I have to get going," he said to us.
"See you later," I said to him, not willing to say anything else.
He nodded then waved to Everly and with that, went back into the house to get his things to leave.