SHADES of GREEN ↬ m. wheeler

IX. FRIEND

CHAPTER NINE
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❝FRIEND❞

　
　

MIKE WAS NOT downstairs. Despite Jade's hopes, he did not meet her at her locker, did not sneak up on her.

　Jade had been standing at her locker for a few minutes now, staring at the photograph of her father. His face, his eyes were full of life; he was a beautiful man, and he still was—he had just lost that warmth. Naturally, of course, as things and people usually did after death.

　What Jade didn't see was Mike, standing at the end of the corridor—not far away. He was behind the glass door, though, shivering up a storm. She didn't know that Mike had awaited her, although he wasn't sure whether it was a great idea or not. Then he heard her light and distinguishable footsteps descending the stairs, and he had bolted for the exit.

　She didn't know that he was watching her now, filled with mingling senses of guilt and affection. Didn't know that he was staring at her and imagining that he could hear her soft voice. Imagining that he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers, and it was wrong, it was so wrong that he should love anyone other than Eleven, but he couldn't stop staring at her and wishing that he could—

　Jade shut her locker. There was an utterly heartbreaking look that didn't belong on such a beautiful face. Mike told himself one thing: It wasn't love. What he felt was infatuation. He did not have the capacity to love anyone else, let alone two people at one time. But Jade was turning away, headed back for the staircase, and it broke Mike's heart.

　He told himself one more thing: That it was simply the suspense that caused him to act. He wanted to know what happened next. He just wanted to know what Henry Bowers and his gang did to Ben Hanscom. So Mike opened the door, and called Jade's name.

　She whirled around, eyes wide with surprise. Even from this distance, Mike could make out the forest green of her eyes.

　He could be her friend. He could be her best friend. He could satisfy himself, be around her, talk to her, know her. He could do that.

　"Mike," she called, almost reluctantly; her voice was colored with surprise.

　"Sorry I'm late," Mike said, rubbing his gloved hands together. "Um, can we continue reading?"

　As Mike approached, Jade stared at him, unmoving. There were a million thoughts racing behind those green eyes that Mike would never know. But he wanted to. He wanted to know every inch of her soul.

　"Sure," she finally mumbled, and moved to meet Mike in the bathroom. He entered before her, and was already sitting in his usual place when she found him. He still wore his coat, and his dark curls ran wild. One strand curled under his eye and made Jade shudder.

　But she was curious, too. Just like he wanted to know what happened next in It, she wanted to know what the hell had happened last Friday. Jade settled against the opposite wall, after glancing in the mirror. She pulled her thick book out of her tan backpack, set it in her lap...and sat still.

　Mike had not been looking at her, but he noticed the silence. He glanced up, and met her expectant gaze. One hand rested upon the cover of It, as if barring it from Mike. She did not speak, but her eyes said enough.

　"What?" Mike finally asked, feeling guilty for some reason he didn't even know.

　"Are you going to explain what happened on Monday?"

　Mike felt his stomach drop. "Uh...I don't know what you mean."

　"I was just worried, you know? You went sort of weird, then didn't show up for the rest of the day. Did you get sick or something?"