Colors//m.c

Twenty Two

  I had no idea where I was going until I was actually there, unlatching the hinges on Michael's white gate once I saw nobody was home.

This is basically tresspassing. I kept telling myself, but I didn't care. Not anymore.

I locked the gate back up, and trodded on the tile to a beach chair on the side of my pool. I sat on the seat, staring into the sky. I remembered the night where Michael showed up at my house, high as hell, and said the sky was pretty.

He's right.

I remembered the feel of his lips on mine, the tingling sensation flowing from head to toe. I remembered the faint taste of smoke on his lips.

I remembered when I found out about his dad. He explained how no matter what, he couldn't hate his dad. Well he could. But he still loves his dad.

Love is blinding.

I hadn't realized that the gate was being opened until I heard the sound of it being locked back up. I sat up, preparing to throw myself over the opposite gate if needed.

"Hey." I watch as Michael goes to fling his hoodie a few feet in front of him, instead overthrowing, and the jacket sails into the pool. "Balls." He skips the profanity and mutters a slightly more funny word. "That didn't go as planned. Nothing does though."

I didn't question his musings, and instead stayed silent as he sits by my legs on the pool chair.

"You are aware you tresspassed into my property, right?" A dry laugh slips through his chapped lips.

"That did occur to me, yeah." I smiled. "I just didn't know where else to go. I tried calling."

"I saw. Sorry I didn't answer, I was supposed to be away this weekend on a business trip with my dad."

"Why are you here now?"

"Well..." Michael surprises me by taking off his shirt in one swift motion, flinging the shirt onto another chair, successfully making it this time. That's when I notice the bruise. Already turning purple, the large hand sized bruise was inflamed, and swollen.

Jesus.

"Michae-"

"I did something my dad deemed wrong. So he told me i'm staying home for this weekend." He ignores me. "I don't mind. I get to see you." He grabs my hand, an attempt to pull me onto my feet. "Let's go swimming."

"Alright." I hesitantly agree. "I see your bruise. On your chest. Did your dad do that?"

"Yeah." He shakes his head roughly, and only then did it really occur maybe everybody had problems. Yeah, I knew Michael had problems. But he hides it well. He's slightly normal. He doesn't tell just anybody about everything else. But i'm an open book. I mean- who shaves their fucking head out of anger? "But let's swim."

Without giving me a chance to take off anything, he pushes me roughly into the pool, and I come up for air, spluttering and coughing due to the chlorine I inhaled.

"Balls!" Michael smiles once hearing that word, and jumps in after me, splashing me in the face.

"Cannonball." He laughs loudly, having said the catchprase much too late.

Even during swimming, I couldn't get the inflamed bruise on Michael out of my mind. How could anybody ever do that to their child? Especially somebody as amazing as Michael?

"I remember when I kissed you in here." Michael says all of a sudden. "That was so cliche. And slightly gross. Not that your groos. Just the lack of air and the water getting into your mouth and ew. I just thought it would be a good time to kiss you."

I laugh at Michael's explanation, and without really knowing what to say, I splash Michael with water.

After a few minutes full of us splashing eachother, he starts swimming laps around the pool. "Did you know I used to be on a swim team?" He floats on his back for a second.

"No."

"Do you want to spend the night?" He asks all of a sudden. "Like a big sleep over. With just both of us.  First we can get coffee and come back to watch Disney movies and basically be losers. "

"Alright." I say without hesitation. Michael's dad won't be home, so what have I got to lose? Not that were going to have sex or anything. "Where will we get coffee?" I knew his answer. The place that we met.  The smoky, coffee place, where its normal to be smoking a joint whilst reciting pretentious poetry on open nights. My old home.

I never realized how much I drifted away from that place. After I met Michael, I saw no need to be there.

"You know where."

He leaves me momentarily in the water, when he runs inside to grab towels, and races back just as fast, two thick towels draped over his arms.

"Here you go." He waits as I climb up the steps, my clothes feeling heavier with each step, and I regret this decision. I wrap the towel around me gratefully, following Michael into the familiar airy house of his.

"You can wear clothes of mine, right? Unless you would rather run home fast." Michael tells me once were inside his bedroom.

"They actually don't know i'm here. We sorta got into a fight. So I jumped out my window." I accept the sweatbants and faded shirt from him gratefully, stepping into the bathroom, while he stands outside the door talking.

"Why?"

"Well I don't really remember. But apparently Dave wrote letters to me when I thought he abandoned me."

"Wow."

"Yeah. He always acts so different. Like once he will be telling me I dress like a slut, and is super over protective. Or he will ignore me completely. Its odd."

I step out of the bathroom, running a hand through my now slightly longer hair. "I'm ready!" I announce. "We can have popcorn later, right?" I reach for his hand.

He laughs. "Right. Now let's go."