Cold water trickles down my hair in relentless rivulets. Every time I think it'll stop, another stream finds its way down my face. Why don't I just wipe it off? Right…the kid. I look down at her trembling in my arms. The flames behind us roar, hypnotic and hungry, refusing to be doused by the rain. Heat radiates against my back. Am I scared? That could've been me in the building…that could've been—
"What—" I spin to face the cheerful girl who just shoved me. How long had I been zoned out?
"You're going to end up pushing me onto the road one of these days." The sound of my own voice startles me—distant, unfamiliar. Her face lights up and I feel a smile crawling onto mine as she giggles.
"Don't zone out so much then! If I wasn't here you'd get hit by a car."
"Like getting hit by a car could kill me."
"Uh-huh…" She fixes me with that expression she always does—a failed attempt at smugness that only makes her look cute. Despite being sixteen, I'm never sure how old she actually is in the head.
"Do you want to talk about the lasagna incident from last night?" Her caramel eyes dart away from me.
"Shut up! You're the one who couldn't find the fire extinguisher! Plus it's not like you can cook any better." She isn't wrong. My cooking is…interesting, to say the least.
"Have you seen me make those instant noodles?" I'm really good at making instant noodles.
"Uh-yeah. Maybe 'cause that's all you make?" Ouch. Despite her annoyed tone, I catch the little smile playing at her lips.
"I'll let you redeem yourself tonight." I flash her my signature cocky smile—teeth revealed, lips curved slightly to the right.
"You look stupid."
"Don't be mean." Her fist connects with my arm before I stop at the phone booth. I give her a nod and set my school bag on the ground before stepping inside. What's her number again? I wedge the receiver between my ear and shoulder, fumbling through my pockets until I find the crinkled piece of paper.
"Gotcha." I rotate the dial—one, nine, two—after punching in all ten digits, I let it ring. Leaning against the booth, I can't help but watch her through the glass. Her eyes are so light compared to mine. I'm almost jealous. I've always loved dark eyes, mine especially—dark enough to be mistaken for black. Hers are the exception, though. They accentuate her—
"Why are you yelling?" I jerk the phone away from my ear, wincing at the crackle of incoherent noise from the other end.
"Why are you calling me?"
"Why do you think? I sent you some money."
"I don't need your money, Micheal. I'm fine."
"Yeah, yeah, you don't need my money, you don't need me, I've heard it already. Make sure you use it on yourself. Get stuff for school before spending it on clothes. I'm serious. And no lending it to Elora."
"I know. I'm the one stuck with mom." Her voice flattens—the same tone she uses when she's shutting me out. I can't think of a response. All I can do is grip the phone tighter.
"I heard you've been skipping school. Don't." Her frustrated sigh tells me my voice came out harsher than I intended. She'll listen to me. I am her big brother, after all—even with how much she resents me.
"Bye, Micheal." Just like that, the line goes dead. The stupid beeps after a call always annoy me. Beep. Beep. Beep. Like they're rubbing in that she's gone again. It's not like I want to leave her with my mom. I've told her to come stay with me, but she wants to be all independent and mature. She's making herself suffer out of spite, and it kills me. Despite the frustration coiling in my chest, I place the phone back on the rack and walk out, slinging my bag over my back.
"Soooo, how did that go?" She asks with cautious optimism. How do you think it went?
"You know how she is. She's the most stubborn person I kno—" She raises a brow. Does she really take being called stubborn as a compliment?
"Sorry, she's the second most stubborn person I know." I emphasize the word, and it's worth it when I see her giddy expression. We continue walking, our apartment building coming into view. Taking in the surrounding area—nothing special, just a parking lot and a large tree. As beautiful as it looks, I step away from it and head toward the entrance. I open the door and follow after her. The lobby is small but has a friendly atmosphere.
Great. She's here.
I watch the old lady retrieve her mail, her devilish smile spreading as she starts to wave.
"How are you doing today, hot stuff? It's been so nice out lately, hasn't it?" The old woman's raspy voice fills the room as she tries to trap us in one of her long-winded conversations. I wave back with a smile before picking up my pace. The previously ecstatic girl beside me flashes me a death glare before plastering on a wider smile and letting out forced laughs. The old lady clasps her hand and launches into a story.
I do the only logical thing I can think of—I ditch her.
After bounding up the stairs, I unlock the door to my apartment. Though small, it's filled with memories—faded photographs on the walls and the lingering scent of last week's takeout stubbornly clinging to the air. The sound of barking greets me as I swing the door halfway shut and drop my bag and jacket on the floor.
"Heyyyy, Reaper!" The black furball leaps into my arms, his tail whipping everything within reach. My voice unconsciously rises several octaves, like I'm talking to a toddler.
"Who's a good boy? You are!" I run my hands through his soft fur, scratching around his neck and along his body. His dark eyes flutter shut as he soaks up the attention. Our reunion is quickly interrupted by the angry slam of the door behind me.
"You're stupid." Oh…she's back. I scramble to my feet, but it's too late—her backpack flies toward me. I'm surprised at how fast she can swing that thing.
"You really ditched me? Would it have killed you to listen to her talk for a little bit?" Ouch—did the textbook just hit my head?
"What was I supposed to do? I can't listen to her talk for eternity!" Her relentless assault doesn't stop.
"Don't be mean. Watch—when you're an old man, everyone's going to avoid you too."
"If I get to the point where the supermarket sale is the most interesting thing going on in my life, just kill me."
"Micheal!" She slaps my arm with a sting. With an exasperated sigh, she ceases fire and collapses onto the couch. The old woman is a nice lady, really. She just tends to talk…a lot. I can't do it, not like she does. Maybe she's just too kind to find any conversation boring.
"Did you know you can eat Cherry Blossom petals? Miss Saito really likes Cherry Blossom trees. Turns out she actually grew up in Japan." Reaper seems happy to see my assailant, and she laughs as he licks her face. Though I don't know how happy I'd be in her position…why's she smiling at me like that? What does she want now?
"What?" I ask, already feeling the effects of her infectious smile.
"We're watching a movie tonight." Sweet as she sounds, she's not asking.
"I—"
"Micheal! Please~ I want to enjoy our night off!"
"Our night off? Do you not intend on going to school tomorrow?"
"What I mean is we don't have any homework or work tonight. Come on…let's relax a bit." It's hard to say no to those eyes. I glance up at the clock—it's already getting dark. Leaving school late really did affect us. If I'm back by ten, everything will work out. I sling my bag over my shoulder.
"I'm going to go say hi to Mr. Kyushei." I start to open the door. I see the way she's looking at me—a knowing glint in her eye. Can she tell I'm lying? Of course she can. She's known me for ten-ish years now. Maybe I've got a tell—some look in my eye that gives me away. With a wave, I close the door behind me.
"See you later, Luna."