You're The Reason//Michael Clifford

One.

Throughout the years, Michael and I were conjoined at the hip. There were so many memories shared between the two of us. From sharing our first kiss together in the tree house in his backyard that our dads built together, playing hide and seek in my basement for hours and hours, going to our first middle school dance together, talking to each other from our bedroom windows all night long, our first fight where we thought we would never talk to each other again, which only lasted for an hour. He ended up knocking on my bedroom window and apologizing. We never could stay mad at each other. After all, we were best friends.

Now, ten years later, at the age of sixteen, nothing has changed. We're still the best of friends and I'm forever thankful for it. We were at our new hang-out place which was just on the roof of our tree house because we had out grown the inside. At least Michael had since he grew up to be like ten feet tall. The view of the sunset was perfect from the tree house roof and we come up here to talk about anything and everything that were on our minds.

"So Chevrolet, what are your plans for after high school?" Michael asked, putting his hands behind his head, substituting for a pillow.

"I don't really know. I want to get the hell out of this town, that's for sure."

When I was eight, my mother just up and left my dad and I. She had told me that she needed my help packing her things because she was going on a little vacation. I did what I was told and even packed a bag for myself, thinking I was going with her. When I was walking out of the front door with my packed bag in hand, she was in the process of reversing her car out of the driveway. I ran after her, leaving the front door wide open, and yelling for her to wait for me. She quickly sped off, leaving me in the street in the middle of the night. I stood out there all night, confused and abandoned, until Mrs. Clifford saw me and brought me back inside of my house. I told my dad what had happened and he explained to me that she wasn't coming back. I never understood what he meant by that until I was older. My dad was a wreck at first but now he's re-married and my step-mom is a living nightmare. She was very strict and had a set of rules. If you didn't abide by those rules, her punishments made you wish you had. You thought Cinderella had it bad.

I shook myself from the terrible memory and looked at Michael, "What about you?"

"I just told you that- you weren't listening, were you?"

"I'm sorry. I zoned out again."

He playfully rolled his eyes and hit his shoulder against mine, "I told you that I hope my music career takes off. It's been my dream for years now."

Ever since he picked up a guitar and taught himself how to play, it's been his dream to start a band. He has one started now with his other friends, Luke and Calum. They're just having troubles finding a drummer at the moment. They sound pretty damn good actually but only when it's not three in the morning. It's funny because I'll hear his mom screaming at them to shut up and go to bed. I've laid in bed, cheering for Mrs. Clifford because I also want them to shut up and go to bed.

"It will, if you would just call Ashton and tell him he gets to be in the band." I dragged out the last part and tapped his cheeks, giving him a smile. All he did was push me away in a joking manner.

"Did you see how goofy looking he was? No way. I mean, who wears a purple shirt like that?"

"Do you know of any other decent drummers around here?" Michael looked up, clearly annoyed, and shook his head no. "Then I suggest you give Ashton a call and stop being a picky bastard, BRD."

"You just want me to call him so you can stare at him with your googly eyes," Michael widened his eyes at me and I looked at him in disgust. In all honesty, that was just a tiny part of the reason. Ashton wasn't bad looking but I mostly act like I'm interested in him because I know it annoys Michael.

"That's definitely not the reason. I just think you should give him more time to prove himself than just a few hours of practicing with you guys and not judge his talent from the color of his shirt."

Michael started at me with a knowing look. I added, "Even if it was a hideous shirt."

Before Michael could say anything else, my devilish step-mom was hollering for me to get back home. She doesn't quite understand the concept of cell phones and the fact that she could have just called me instead letting the whole town hear her. I looked at Michael, "Well, I better not keep the devil waiting. Window talk tonight?"

Michael shook his head and kissed my cheek before I jumped down from the tree house and disappeared inside my house.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I gave Ashton a call," Michael started the conversation before I could even get comfortable on my window bench, "we're all going to practice tomorrow after school. You should come and watch us."

I grinned, "I'd love to. Just don't suck this time."

"We don't suck. You're just jealous because you're not in the band."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm definitely not jealous. Just don't forget about me when you're famous."

"I could never forget you. You're my best friend, Chevrolet."

We talked for another hour before Michael started yawning and fought so hard to keep himself awake, "I think I'm going to call it a night. If you can't sleep, my window is always open."

Michael and I have this thing that if the other person can't sleep, or is having family problems, they can come over and sleep. It's usually me going over there. Sometimes I go over there just to be next to him and sometimes I can't sleep unless I'm with him.

I shook my head, "Goodnight, Big Red Dog."

We stared at each other for a few minutes before he cleared his throat and tapped his hands against the windowsill, "I'll see you tomorrow." All I did was barely nod my head and move from my window to my bed. I stared up at the ceiling, listening to the bickering between my dad and step-mom for a couple of hours. I kept tossing and turning but it felt as if their yelling got louder and louder with each passing second. I got out of bed and crawled out of my window and in through Michael's.

I shook Michael awake and he rubbed his eyes to look at me, "Are they fighting again?"

All I did was nod my head not wanting to say anything. Michael scooted over in the bed and opened up his blanket for me to get under. I laid down beside him and he covered me up with the other half of his comforter, leaving his arm drooped over my body and nuzzling his face in the back of my neck. He muttered a goodnight before falling back asleep. I took in the quiet atmosphere and listened to the sound of Michael's steady breathing before falling asleep.