My mind was racing and my heart was steadily picking up the pace to keep up with it, my fingers absentmindedly running through the locks of Michael's hair as he rested against me. I'd never felt more comfortable in my life and I was confused, though pleasantly so, about his determination not only to not make love to me but to also not kiss me directly. Whatever it was, I was sure that it was somehow related to what he had not yet told me.
It has hard to try to piece this boy together from the inside out, especially when I didn't have all the pieces and I was sure he had a limited few himself. Somewhere along the way someone else had taken them and there would be things coming soon that would involve us having to look for them. I was willing to do this, no matter how hard it was. I owed him this much for making my first kiss a kiss to remember.
I had always thought I'd be embarrassed to be naked in front of someone else, to show my body to another person, but sharing it with Michael seemed right. Once I'd gotten over the inital shock, the feeling of his skin against mine was almost addictive. I wasn't so sure that when he woke that I would let him move. I wanted more, wanted it more than I knew I should because we hadn't known each other for very long at all. Regardless of whether it was right or wrong in someone else's eyes, it felt right to me. Whatever was holding Michael back was strong enough to overpower what he felt to be right, otherwise I'm sure he would admit to feeling the same.
He didn't sleep long at all, his eyes fluttering open and meeting mine. When he smiled, for the first time, he smiled with his eyes too. It made my heart skip a beat and I returned the smile at once, "Welcome back to reality."
He chuckled, closing his eyes again and kissing my collarbone. "Best reality I've ever woken up to."
His comment made me blush but I didn't stop playing with his hair.
"You're going to make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that." he said, yawning as if to prove a point.
I didn't stop, shrugging my shoulders. "Then that just means I get to enjoy this a little longer."
The fact that he didn't respond worried me but I laughed to hear him snoring. He hadn't been kidding. I tugged his hair, trying to wake him, and he groaned, reaching up to grab my hand. "That's not nice..." he mumbled through his second yawn.
"Neither is you refusing to kiss me properly, but I'm not going to complain too much." I countered. Of course I wanted him to kiss me but it wouldn't do to make him feel bad about it. For the time being I would take whatever I could get.
As soon as I'd said it the smile left his eyes. Goddamn it, I kept screwing up all the potentially heart-warming moments. Before I could screw up by trying to apologize and saying something much worse, he pressed his fingers against my lips.
"I will kiss you, but not today." he pulled his fingers away and made to sit up, but I grabbed him and held him tightly against me. His eyes widened but he didn't try to pull away, rubbing his cheek against mine and smiling. "I have to get up eventually, you know."
"Yes, but right now I refuse to let you."
"Come take a shower with me?" he asked.
I covered my face with my hands, turning a shade of red that would rival a fire engine. "You've got to be kidding..."
His laughter was a welcome sound but I kept my face hidden, feeling embarrassed. I couldn't understand why this bothered me since he had already seen me naked but it did. I didn't stop him this time as he climbed off of me and pulled on his boxers. I peeked from between my fingers and grabbed a pillow to cover myself. It didn't cover much.
"I'll be here when you get back," I mumbled, looking down at the pile of clothes on the floor. I couldn't go home with so many wrinkles in my clothes. Slowly, I sat up, letting the pillow fall and stretching. I hadn't realized just how much my back ached but it was hard to mind so much when I had been so close to Michael.
He nodded towards the pile of clothes on the floor, "Put on your clothes for now. We can wash them and get you fixed up later. I'm going to go feed Sasha...I've been so wrapped up in writing that I forgot to earlier."
I watched him go, padding up the wooden steps with his pants in one hand to put on once he got to the top of the stairs. As soon as I heard the door shut I climbed off the couch and pulled on my clothes, glancing around the basement to see if maybe there was something I had left behind like my cell phone or lipgloss. Just as I had gotten on my hands and knees I heard the door at the top of the stairs slam open and Michael screaming.
I couldn't understand what he was saying but I could tell he was overwhelmed. I jumped to my feet, racing to the foot of the stairs. It felt as if this moment should have been in some well known play and somehow the roles had gotten reversed where Michael was the damsel in distress and I was coming to his rescue.
It didn't take me long to realize that Michael looked as if he were about to faint and I ran up the steps, stubbing my toe painfully on one of the steps and jamming a splinter into my big toe. I gritted my teeth and ignored it, holding my arms opened wide to catch him as he dropped to his knees at the top step, shaking violently.
"Michael -- what's...?"
"Sasha...please..." his words were hard to hear through the tears and I finally just shoved my way past him to see for myself. I had hoped that he would follow, even grudgingly, not quite sure what had happened. When I went outside on the front porch the first thing I saw was a bloody crowbar and a letter that Michael had already torn open and dropped.
I picked it up and felt sick, letting it fall and glancing down at the paper with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. There were no words written -- only a single bloody paw-print. Obviously Michael hadn't left the front porch but in my fury I raced to the edge of it and jumped down, heading for the dog house that I knew would harbor only death.
I heard her before I saw her -- whimpering and sometimes uttering a low growl as if she were still being threatened. As soon as I rounded the corner of the dog house I had to turn my head away again, gagging back vomit, feeling tears sting my eyes. Michael couldn't see this and I didn't want her to suffer. Whoever had done this apparently went to our school and had a grudge against supposedly gay men. There was no other explanation -- either way, this was going far too much over the line.
Sasha's whimpers grew more insistent when she caught sight of me and her chain rattled as she tried to move towards me, her legs windmilling as she laid on her side. Hesitantly, I looked back at her and could barely manage to get out the words, "Hey pretty girl..."
Sasha was far from pretty -- half her skull bashed in and her eyes almost pure red. I was surprised that she could see at all and even more surprised that she was still trying to hang on. No matter how much Michael didn't need to see her this way something told me that Sasha wanted her best friend beside her before she passed. I didn't want to leave her alone, though, my heart aching as she tried once again to get closer to me.
"Michael!" I called, kneeling down beside her and resting a hand on her side which instantly caused her to let out a low, painful howl. The crowbar had contact with more than just the side of her head -- it was impossible to guess how many ribs were broken but it was apparent that she wasn't much longer for this world.
I heard Michael's footsteps crossing the porch and heard him grunt as he jumped off the porch. I assumed he'd taken the same route that I had but it took him longer to reach the dog house. I couldn't blame him -- would anyone want to run to see the sight of a dying friend?
His voice was barely recognizable as his, taking on a whole new tone that I'd never heard any living person use. "My Sasha..." was all he'd managed to say before falling to his knees on her other side, his hands shaking so badly that it was obvious he was afraid to reach out to her for fear of hurting her further.
My hands gently stroked her back, the only part that seemed safe to touch, trying to not look at her face for too long. Michael's hands finally ventured towards Sasha's snout, stroking it gently with the back of his hand and trying to murmur words that would sooth her. Whether or not he was saying actual words was hard to tell because each word was punctuated by a loud, gut-wrenching sob.
After a few strokes from Michael's hand, Sasha raised her head up enough to lick his hand once.
I'm not sure how long we sat with her until her large amber eyes closed and her whimpering stopped. As soon as Michael was sure that Sasha had passed her pulled her against his bare chest and held her tightly, closing his eyes and resting his head against hers. He didn't seem to mind the blood or the dirt or the flies that were already starting to swarm around us. I stood up and walked around to the other side of the dog house, allowing him to have a private moment, unsure of whether I felt more angry than sad. My eyes scanned the sidewalk and the surrounding yards for anyone who might be watching and laughing. As soon as I found out who had done this I would make sure to make their life a living hell.
I felt Michael's eyes watching me and didn't turn to look at him, balling my hands into fists, thinking of a million things I wanted to say to comfort him but being too full of rage to form a sentence that would sound compassionate.
"Janet..." his hand closed over one of my fists and yanked me around to face him. I was surprised at the force but I was sure he hadn't meant it. I too ignored the blood and pulled him against me, letting him cry onto my shoulder before we both fell onto our knees. He mostly pulled me down with him and I wasn't going to fight it, allowing him to cling onto me like a life preserver. I would be his raft if he needed me to be -- I'd spent years being strong for my sisters when they went through their childish heartaches. While this was incredibly different I was still capable of doing it.
"Michael, are you...what can I do?" I asked, matching his soft tones as if frightened to scare him away.
He shook his head frantically against my shoulder, clutching me tighter, "Don't talk. Just stay with me."
I nodded, reaching up with one hand to stroke his hair. There were moments when I thought he had finally managed to pull himself together and then, as if another dam had broken inside of him, the emotion poured out of him again and he would clutch onto me with a new sound of desperation in his cries. There were a few times when people walking by on the sidewalk would stop and stare and I could feel their eyes watching us even though my back was to them. In time they eventually moved on and I was grateful for the time alone.
"I...told Sasha goodbye." he finally said as the sky started darkening, finally loosening his group for the first time in what was probably hours.
I ran the back of my hand slowly across his cheek, nodding, "I know. Do you need help burying her?"
His one nod was all the answer that I needed.
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