Alyssa

I sigh and lean my head against the cold wall behind me. Michael seemed to shrug the whole situation off, but I still feel horrible. I apologized profusely on the entire car ride to the hospital, but it doesn't feel like I've made any difference.

I absentmindedly twist the strings of my hoodie. I can't remember the last time I wore one of these, but I'm way too hungover to think about looking cute right now.

The waiting area is quiet besides the tapping of the receptionist's fingers against her keyboard. People walk by in the hall, mainly doctors and nurses rushing from patient to patient.

I suddenly spot Michael's dad as he walks by with a nurse. "Hi Mr. Adachi," I call and wave.

He stops and gives me a small smile. "Oh, hello Alyssa." He whispers something to the nurse who quickly nods and heads off without him. "What are you doing here?"

"Michael is getting his cast off." I asked Michael if he wanted me to be in the room with him, but he was very firmly against it. Excuse me for trying to be supportive.

He raises his eyebrows. "Wow time sure flies, eh? That means it's already been..." he trails off as he seems to struggle to do the mental math.

"Just about two months," I quickly finish for him.

"Right," he says. "I guess I lost track of time, I didn't realize how long it had been since I last spoke to him."

I do my best to be polite and hide my surprise. Two months? My family and I chat at least once a week.

"Did he mention his sisters' birthday party next week?" he asks. "You're welcome to come along if you'd like, we'd love to have you there."

I try to hide my confusion and quickly shake my head. "Oh, no he hasn't mentioned it, but thank you very much for the invitation."

I don't think Michael has told me anything about his sisters.

It looks like he'll have to now.

-----

I glance over at Michael when I pull up to a red light. "How does it feel?"

Michael examines his arm slowly. Fortunately, the doctor said that it healed nicely. "Sort of strange, I'm still getting used to being able to feel things with it."

"I'm sure it'll feel normal soon enough," I say. Even I'm having a hard time getting used to it. He pretty much didn't need any help getting into the car and strapping his seatbelt.

Michael nods and absentmindedly stares out the window. There's not much to look at, besides traffic lights and street lamps. The evening rush hour has slowed everything down to a crawl.

Inside the car is just as dull. Michael doesn't like to listen to any music while driving – not even audio books or podcasts. This rule apparently extends to me when we're in the car together.

Michael clears his throat. "About this afternoon," he mumbles, "I thought about what you said-"

"I'm really sorry, Michael," I apologize again. "Please don't be mad."

He shakes his head. "No, I think you're right," he says quietly. "I know I take life too seriously sometimes, and it makes me seem like I don't care about anything."

He never seems to take a break or want to have fun. He's always either studying, in meetings, or working on articles. He's probably the most pragmatic person I know. It also makes him stubborn and closed off, but I decide it's a bad time to bring it up.

"But why?"

He laughs dryly. "No offense but you're too sheltered to understand, Alyssa. I've had to deal with a lot of shit in my life, and I don't want to talk about it," he says. "Please just know that it isn't my intention to seem heartless, there are plenty of people and things I care about."

"Alright."

----

"S-sorry I took so long," I wheeze as I climb back into the car. The package is much heavier than I was expecting it to be, and I parked in the far corner of the post office's lot.

Michael glances up from his phone. "Yeah, no problem. What is it anyway?"

"A package from my family." It was supposed to be a surprise, but Anthony accidentally spoiled it during our last family call. I debate waiting until I get home, but curiosity gets the best of me and I open the box. Placed on top is a small white envelope with a letter inside.

Alyssa,

Hope you're doing well, everyone back home misses you. You told me how homesick you've been when you visited for Thanksgiving, so I had the idea to put together a care package for you.

Lots of love,

-Grandpa

P.s. Don't worry about the accident too much, sweetheart. I did some pretty stupid things back when I was your age and I turned out fine!

I can't help but smile. Leave it to grandpa to always be the one who can cheer me up.

I set the letter aside and rummage through the box. There are a few packs of my favourite snacks that I haven't been able to find here, a framed family picture from my last birthday, a card from mom and dad, my favourite mug that I couldn't fit in my suitcase when I first moved here, and a stress ball. At the bottom is a new helmet with a small note taped to it:

From your brothers.

I bite my lip and stare at it.

"You haven't really been riding, have you?" Michael asks quietly.

My stomach twists into a knot. I quickly take the neon green stress ball out and grip it tightly. "No, not since the accident."

I've tried again a couple times, but it's the same every time. No matter how hard I try, I can't bring myself to turn the key in the ignition. It immediately brings me back to that night, the memory is as vivid as ever.

It's silent between us for a moment before Michael finally sighs softly. "You know it's ok to not be perfect all the time, right?" he asks.

"I can handle my problems just fine on my own," I insist – not that I even really have any. "Look at me, I'm totally fine."

Michael looks at me warily. "Just because you carry it all so well doesn't mean it isn't heavy," he says. "What weighs you down doesn't have to be yours to carry alone."

I'm taken aback by the genuine kindness in his tone. "Um," I mumble, squeezing the stress ball, "I'll ask for help if I need it."

Michael nods but I see the doubt in his expression. He switches his attention to the letter from grandpa. "You two are close?" he asks, quickly changing the subject.

I nod, slightly relieved. "He has seventeen grandkids, but he's probably the closest with me."

According to dad, grandpa always wanted a daughter but ended up with six sons instead. I was his very first granddaughter, and he's adored me since I was a baby.

In hindsight, his patience is admirable. When I was little, I would make him join the tea parties I held for my stuffed animals. He taught me to play the recorder and I played hot cross buns endlessly on loop whenever I went to their house. Sometimes I'd put makeup on him when he was asleep.

I'm the youngest in my family, and everyone has always treated me like I'm a baby - except grandpa. I've always appreciated him for that. He grew up as the youngest too and knows how much it sucks to be coddled.

"Speaking of family," I try to say in the least suspicious voice possible, "you have sisters, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's nice, how old are they?" I ask.

He furrows his brows together and thinks for a moment. "Fourteen, almost fifteen."

"Oh, so their birthday is coming up?"

"Yeah."

I wait to let Michael continue, but he just stares at me blankly. "Michael," I groan in exasperation, "why didn't you tell me that you were going to your sisters' birthday party?"

"I'm not obligated to tell you about my personal life," he scoffs. "How the hell do you even know about that?"

I do my best not to take it personally, but his words still hurt. I thought we'd been getting closer – much closer than our agreement originally called for, but Michael seems to have suddenly put up a new wall around himself.

"I saw your dad at the hospital. He invited me to the party."

He raises his brows. "You saw my dad?"

"Um, yeah. He said he had an appointment to rush off to." I thought he would've stuck around and waited to see Michael, but I guess doctors are busy. "I'm sure he would've wanted to see you otherwise," I quickly add.

The two of them seem to have such a strange relationship that I don't understand. Knowing Michael, I'm sure trying to pry wouldn't do me any good.

"Right," Michael says dryly and rolls his eyes. "Does that mean you're actually coming?"

"Of course."

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A/N:

Anyone else have close relationships with their grandparents? I always think it's super cute 🥺

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