Fly High, Fly Low [ON-HOLD]

Chapter 4

FLY HIGH, FLY LOW
By GinoongONEGANI

CHAPTER FOUR

THE RAYS seeping through the cracks in the window feel like a sweet kiss of summer. Jay stirs, relishing the warmth against his cheek. He supposes the sun has just risen; otherwise, the sunlight will not be this comfortable.

Sliding his hand under the pillow, he let himself slip back into dreamland. Not so long after, the rays have blanketed the whole of his face. He groans, taking that as a signal to rise. His initial plan is to sleep through half of the day, so just he could feel the fact he's not going to his grandparents' place. The side of his lips lift into what looks like a grin.

Starting his day earlier isn't really a bad idea, either. He has a pile of pending stories to read, after all. He supposes he will start by the last one he's unwillingly abandoned for the sake of school. He needs to start over with the books he can no longer remember the details of. It will be an adventurous vacation for him inside his room again.

For a full minute, he stares blankly ahead, as though trying to make sense of everything. Still yawning, he stretches like a cat, his hands up in the air as though trying to reach the ceiling. He beeline for the bathroom, takes a piss, and looks at him in the mirror. Both his mother and him have the same brown eyes, his only a bit darker.

There's a streak of saliva that has caked beside his lips. Embarrassed, though no one has really seen, he makes use of his hand as a cup, filling it with a generous amount of water to flush the filth away. Such a thing is unusual for him, unless he really has a good sleep. Well, he does have a really good sleep.

On the way down the kitchen, his senses pick up a weird atmosphere about the house that has him shivering a little. He is used to the silence (Trust Nana to move around the house like a feather). That is his life here without his parents. This silence though, is kinda different. It's different for some reasons he can't put his finger on. Regardless, he continues his walk.

When he reaches the living room, he realizes what's wrong. There's a back facing him, not too broad to be his father. And it will definitely not be his father. Ever since the sales have started to decline, his father seldom goes home to take care of it.

Across the guest is his mother who's all smiles. He hesitates to move forward, opting to retreat back to his room because this doesn't feel good, but then his mother's head cocks to the side, catching his eyes. She beams at him, gesturing him to come.

The head connected to the back Jay has a bad feeling about, whips around, and he almost stops in his tracks. But, he will himself to get it together, walking up to the pair like nothing happens. The innocence in the other's eyes becomes a glint of mischief as he waves to him a little.

"Marcus," spits Jay, standing face to face with him. His mother, as though totally oblivious of the tension starting to rise in the room, excuses herself to get something he's never bothered to understand. He wants to stop her, tells her this man probably just loses his way, but him saying Marcus' name the first chance he gets doesn't really add up to it.

"Hi," Marcus greets back, plopping down to the sofa.

Jay sits across to him, slinging his leg over the other. "What are you doing here?"

"Aren't you happy to see your friend?" the other says, faking a sob as he clutches the fabric above his chest. "Ouch, you hurt me."