wasting time » lh ; mc

thirteen

:: 13 ::

       One thing Luke has noticed, is that Michael isn't himself. He's not loud or cocky or slightly annoying. He's just quiet, and when it comes to Michael, that's a worrying trait. It's been that way since the game; not even the hockey team nor has his own father heard much out of him.

When they're in class, Michael isn't sitting with an arrogant grin, content with himself and the world around him. Instead, the boy does his work peacefully, with tense shoulders, quick penmanship, and it's almost as if he's not there at all.

Michael is loud. Not so much obnoxious or bothersome as it is part of joy and animation. He gets so excited about something that he slowly starts getting louder and, honestly, it's adorable to hear such inimitable laughter from such an inimitable human being.

Luke didn't know one panic attack could cause Michael to react like this. Then again, he's got a good idea on the way Michael thinks and what judgements go through his head—about himself and others. So, that's a scary thought; if Michael is hard on himself any other day, Luke doesn't want to think about what he's like now that he seems so distraught and disappointed about having a panic attack.

Which, to Luke, is not something to be ashamed of. He wanted Michael to know that.

"Coach, is Michael here at school today?" Luke approached Coach Clifford in his Phys Ed class a few days later, the question nagging him all throughout the school day. Usually he'd at least pass Michael in the halls and then see him during last period, but the boy had been seemingly camouflaged within the crowd of teenagers.

Unless he was simply absent, which Luke would understand; Michael was spooked by what his own brain did to him, and probably needed a mental health day. It was still just as stress-inducing for Luke to think about—and, wow, he really needs another friend to worry about.

Michael's father looked at Luke with a creased brow, nodding and informing him, "He should be, I drive him every day."

"Oh, okay—I just haven't seen him all day," he replied, confused. His actual teacher was calling him over for roll call, but Coach Clifford waved the lady off. Luke thanked him with a smile.

"Probably avoiding everyone after Saturday, you know how he is." You had no idea, Luke thought, but decided not to out Michael and what happened in the locker rooms. Even if his dad had a right to know and worry.

Luke chuckled, "Yeah, I guess." Coach Arnold, his Phys Ed teacher, called his across the gymnasium in her already loud and high-pitched voice. "I should probably get to my squad line now. Thanks, though."

"Wait, Luke," he heard Coach call, making him turn around. "You've been practicing for next school year's baseball team, right?"

"I have been, especially with Michael's help."

"Good. You two help each other out."

"Yeah, I guess we do," he smiled to himself. "I'll see you later, Coach."

       It wasn't until afterschool that Luke decided that the worry eating away at his thoughts was too much to not check on Michael. He didn't bother trying to text the boy ahead of time, because there was more of a chance that Michael wouldn't answer than there was of him actually caring enough to.

Really, Luke shouldn't have been surprised to find Michael sat in a pair of sweatpants and stained white t-shirt. It answered the question of whether or not he left school or not. Since Luke knows Michael never wears lazy clothes to school, and it takes him at least until eight at night to get ready for bed.

"What the hell, Mike? You skipped?" he asked incredulously.

Michael, who sat with a blank face and eyes staring at the same Chris D'elia comedy show he played when he hurt his back, replied, "Well, yeah. I thought that was pretty obvious."

It was impossible to know what Michael was thinking any other day, Luke doesn't know why he thought it would be any easier now. "I'm serious! I was worried all day."

"You didn't have to be. I'm fine."

"Obviously not," Luke rolled his eyes. "You've just seemed off. Like, since Saturday."

Finally, Michael looked at him. But, it was with eyes that made Luke flinch at how harsh they seemed. He was becoming frustrated; that's not what Luke wanted. "I'm not. This is what happens, ask Calum."

"I know you get all self-deprecating after losses and stuff, but even Calum was surprised this time." This was when Luke felt a vibration within his pocket, signaling he had received a message. He pulled out his phone, confused at who would be texting him since both of his parents never do, then smiled slightly when seeing it was Penelope. They exchanged numbers during Michael's game and had been texting ever since.

"Who's that?" Michael mumbled.

"Uh, Penelope—I mean, that girl I met on Saturday," he explained, biting his lip. The girl was wondering if they could hang out. "She's asking to hang out. But, I'm gonna tell her I'm with you."

"You know, you're kind of clingy," Michael said. "Go to Penelope."

Luke visibly deflated, looking down at his lap with a frown. "I just—I've never had a real friend before, and I'm worried." Wow, he just realized how truly pathetic he is.

"Well don't be, Luke. It's annoying," Michael groaned. He had moved to lay on his stomach, burying his face into the pillow beneath him as if Luke wasn't there at all.

All of the things Luke knew he was but never wanted to be called were just told to him by the one person he hoped had changed their viewpoint of him. Michael is the one person that Luke wanted to be normal around, and he's annoying the guy. And, yeah, Michael is in a bad mood and Luke shouldn't be so hurt over something that he said out of anger, but that's the thing: Michael was angry because of Luke.

Blue eyes swiveled around the dark room, a few posters and trophies catching their attention to distract from the feeling in Luke's chest. "Oh, okay. Do you want me to go? I can—"

"Please do," the boy mumbled into his pillow, not giving Luke even the slightest sign of a goodbye as he leaves with his head down. "Oh! Luke?"

"Yeah?" he asked, hope filling his eyes.

"Tell my dad Calum is coming over."

"Oh...yeah, I—I will," Luke mumbled, turning again. "I hope you feel better, Mikey."

       • • •

prepare ur orifices bc the shortness of these last chapters will be so worth the next few lmaooooo bye

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