Chapter 11: Cherries

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Inside, I kick off my vans, and flop onto the couch, feeling the cold air conditioning cool the sweat off my skin. I lay there flat on my back listening to my heart slowly calm back down, Micah's eyes and body language sent familiar anxiety coursing through my veins, and I'd very much like to regain the peace I woke up with. Meanwhile, I accidentally drift into yet another doze...

Instantly I'm dreaming again. Echo is there as usual, he's beaming, his white teeth radiating along with his white hair and white skin, all shining with a glare that makes my eyes hurt. I look at him, and I feel sudden irrational anger beyond control, and I kick my foot out and manage to hit him! Much to my satisfaction, I strike him with my fist as well. He seems to just fall on the spot, but when he hits the ground, he turns into Micah, bloodied and beaten on the floor. I rush to grab him, feeling warmth seeping into my palms when...

The front door bangs open.

"Will!"

"Mom!" I leap upright nearly colliding with the coffee table.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Sorry. I was sleeping, you scared me." I gasp.

My mom appears in the living room, holding groceries from Trader Joe's. "You were sleeping? I'm sorry." Already the dream is fading into the background, the details fuzzing as my mind processes other more important things, leaving it comfortably on the back burner.

"No. No it's good I don't want to be up all night ag--" I almost said again. She tilts her head. I'll bet she knows I've been out late 9 times out of 10 these last few nights, she knows everything, like God.

"I've got to... um.... feed the dog." I mutter, more so just needing an escape to regain my composure.

"Yeah. Yes. Do that, I'll make some food." she places her hand on my cheek. "I haven't seen much of you lately, lets catch up." Catch up. Right. I'll have to think up a script.

I walk and feed Beatrice and the cat and when I get back much too soon, my Mom is making me a plate of bowtie pasta and veggies. "Tell me about your life!" She says excitedly sitting at the bar with me. "Summer life!"

I smile. She's innocent, like how my friends all see me apparently. I try to think of something that doesn't involve my excessive feeling of loneliness and my growing dependency to cigarettes as the hours tick down. The single cigarette still sitting in my beat up pack makes my stomach wrench, I have an errand to run tonight. Nothing new or exciting comes to mind. What's wrong with me?

"Didn't you go to the nature park the other day with Angel and Hannah?" She suggests. Oh yeah! That feels like ages ago, though, it must've only been a few days.

"Yeah! Yeah we did that," have I really not sat down and had a conversation with my mom since we went to the nature park? Where have I been? 

"And how was that? Was that any fun?" I picture Angel and Hannah running off into the tall grass to make out, and I figure my mom doesn't need to hear about that part. "Well..." I begin. For some reason I don't want to say anything about Micah being there either, since she doesn't know him. I end up making something up about Hannah getting bit by mosquitos, a misfortune that really happened to Micah, and then we left. I don't mention the subsequent party either.

"And what did you do today?" She asks me after that, despite my blandness she still seems delighted by the idea of my teenage summer lifestyle. At least one of us is.

"I hung out with this guy I know..." I shrug, finally conceding. I really want that cigarette. Mom is even more elated to hear I have other friends she doesn't know about, and she pleads with me to hear about them.

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