LUKE

My cheeks feel dry and stiff from my tears as I blink slowly, watching as the morning shifts into late afternoon. I'm still in the same position, my bones locked into paralysis as the water rushes up to my feet, stopping just at the tip of my converse each time. Michael sits silently beside me, his hip pressed up against mine. He hasn't uttered a sound for a while, his mind drifted away into its own little world. I want to stay here forever, the sun warming our skin as we listen to the calming waves in front of us.

We need to get moving though, so I coerce my arms and legs to push me up into a standing position. I see the top of Michael's fluffy head turn to the side, and I watch his pale eyes glint in the sunlight as he gazed up at me. He carefully stands up, brushing some dried mud off of his hands before joining me at the edge of the stream, watching the water froth at our feet.

"So, how are we going to get across?" I ask, breaking the thick silence between us. I squint at the intense light reigning down from the huge mass of energy that is the sun, fighting the urge to cower beneath the trees. I haven't ever been an outdoors person. Only a couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in front of my X-Box playing FIFA, wearing a pair of boxers and a ratty t-shirt promoting some festival I went to when I was ten. I hadn't seen the sun in two weeks and I hadn't talked to a human being that wasn't blood related to me in months. Now here I am, standing in clothes I haven't changed out of in a disgustingly long amount of time, and analyzing the width of a river.

"I'm not sure. I've never tried to cross it before." Michael admits, his small body standing still against the slight wind. His purple hair ruffles up and his eyelashes flutter as he blinks. A small sigh releases from his pink lips as he observes the familiar river.

I purse my lips. "You could get on my back."

"What?" Michael whips his head around to laugh at me, but I shrug.

"Yeah, hop on." I turn around and bend my knees, lowering myself to his level so he could climb on. Michael just shakes his head, the smile disintegrating from his face.

"I'm too heavy." He says, and I straighten up, turning to him to scoff.

"No you aren't, what are you talking about?" I say, touching one of his skinny arms. "You're tiny. You're like a cute little firefly."

"A firefly?" Michael laughs.

"Yes," I say, and chuckle a little as my vision returns back to the stream. "Let's walk down and see if we find a bridge or something."

So we start walking again, heading to the left and following the endless river as it rages past us. I take a moment to stare at Michael. His small feet glide over the sticks and rocks under him, and his eyes flit around to gaze at the nature thriving around him. He constantly lifts a thin finger to touch the rough bark of a tree, the smooth surface of green ivy, the delicate pedals of a flower. He looks so at home here in the woods, far away from civilization. He looks so content, so at ease with being apart from the judging eyes of the town he's grown up in. I can tell he loves the geographical design of the trees around him, sprouting from random spots as though they could care less where they end up. I wish I could be like that- free. Waltzing with my own conscious, oblivious to the world flourishing around me.

I am studying the intricate lattice designs on a piece of tree bark when I hear Michael's soft voice float back to me through the clean air.

"Luke, look!" he is saying, and I look up from the wood to see Michael standing and pointing to the river, where an almost perfectly straight line of rocks have been placed into the water, creating a somewhat stable bridge to cross at. Although they are placed at an uncanny level of preciseness, it is easy to see that this was nature's work, not man's. I join Michael at the edge of the water, staring at this glorious discovery. Michael turns to give me a cheeky grin, joy clear in his eyes.

I slip my hand into his, almost subconsciously, to help him cross the slippery stones guarding the water to get to the rocks. Michael ends up stabilizing me as I step on the slimy stones, not accustomed to the slippery feeling. Michael however has stepped on these stones hundreds of times, perfectly adjusted to it. He squeezes my hand as we step on the first rock together, my hand embarrassingly sweaty against his cold ones. We make our way across the rocks, the water churning beneath us. More times than not, a wave would splash over our ankles and cause me to lose my balance, making me fight to regain equilibrium on the oily rocks.

Thankfully, it doesn't end up taking too long to get across, and I feel like a sack of sweat and nerves when I take that final leap across the water, landing in a pile of dirt and not really caring. Michael gracefully lands beside me, except he arrives on land with his feet on the ground. The colorful boy bends down to smile at me and pat my back.

"You did it."

"Yeah." I huff, pushing myself up and brushing the dirt off my already filthy clothes. I look up, brushing my hair out of my eyes and chewing on my black lip ring as I shield my eyes from the sun, walking under the shadows of the trees, Michael right beside me.

I regain my breath as we continue under the trees, letting Michael lead the way as he strolls along the forest ground.

"So." I begin, watching the bright sky from the afternoon fade a little in color, turning a bit darker as the world makes its subtle changes to evening. "When did you drop out of school?"

Michael glances at me, the shadows casting across his face flickering as we move beneath the trees. "When I was really young. Like, ten. It was illegal, I think, to drop out that young. But my father homeschooled me."

"Homeschooled you?"

"Well, more like give me textbooks to read." Michael answers lowly, not meeting my gaze as we blindly make our way through the shrubs.

"Did you care?" I ask. Michael purses his pink lips and shrugs his shoulders.

"Not really." He says, his eyes moving to meet mine. "I never liked school anyway." He places a barely convincing smile on his face. I turn my lips up in some sort of encouraging smile that I hope comes across as friendly as we proceed through the woods, breathing in fresh air. My lungs burn a little, not used to oxygen that hasn't been destroyed by tobacco smoke and other people's hot breath. The tortured air in the city is what I'm accustomed to, but I can certainly get used to the clean oxygen here.

"I don't really like school either. That's why I don't really care that I'm kind of dropping out by doing this." I don't realize how my sentence could be taken wrong until I see the guilty look drenching Michael's facial features.

"Trust me, Michael." I say, forcing Michael to look at me. "I would rather be here with you than be learning useless shit in that school." The boy smiles a little.

"Music always helps." I add, thinking back to my hellacious life in both schools I have attended. "It's a beautiful form of distraction. Better distraction than any drugs you can get ahold of."

Michael stares at me.

"You like Blink-182, right? Do you like Green Day, too?" I ask. Michael nods to both questions. "You should listen to Sum 41. Great band."

Michael doesn't speak much, staring at his converse as he maneuvers around logs lying on the floor. He glances at me occasionally, his eyes sparked with interest as I talk.

"You know, I've actually always wanted to be in a band." I tell Michael. He turns to me in surprise, grinning.

"Really?" He voice is dubious.

"What? Do you not think I can sing?" I joke. Michael shrugged, obviously doubting my singing skills. I turn straight forward and open my mouth, singing American Idiot on the top of my lungs. My voice cracks repeatedly from the force I am singing, and I can't help but laugh as I go, seeing Michael's lips turn up in a smile as he laughs, covering his ears with his hands. I do a makeshift guitar solo with my voice since my electric guitar is at home, and Michael's laugh sends warmth through my veins.

I tune down my voice a little and sing regularly, closing my eyes as I flow with the music. I haven't listening to music in a while, so it feels good to create some in these damp woods. After a minute of this, I notice Michael has fallen silent again, and I stop singing, opening my eyes to reveal a shocked Michael, his pallid eyes wide as he stares at me in wonder.

"What?"

"You're actually really good." The boy says softly, his voice nearly drowned by the noises of the woods. I flash a smile.

"Thanks. Your turn." I say, and Michael's cheeks flush, and his turns his gaze away from me as he shakes his head.

"Come on, I know you can sing. I can feel it." I tease, waddling closer to him as we walk. Michael frowns and shakes his head a bit more forcefully.

"No."

"Please, Michael?"

"No, Luke." Michael sternly looks at me, his light eyes turning a bit darker. It is apparently a touchy subject, so I back off, and search my brain for a different topic as we travel through the trees. I'm about to ask him about why he dyed his hair the odd color of purple when a bloodcurdling scream comes from Michael.

"Michael?" I whip my head towards the boy, who has stopped in his tracks, a terrified expression covering his face. "Michael, what is it?"

He lifts a shaking finger to a spot just behind a tall oak tree, to a pile of clumped together dirt. I stare at it, trying to figure out what is so scary about a pile of dirt when suddenly it moves, and hisses.

The snake moves from its place beneath the leaves and slithers deeper into the woods, off into a section thick with shrubs and bushes. I move over to the scared boy, and wrap my arms around his frail shoulders.

"It's okay, love." I whisper. I'm acutely aware of his trembling body under my careful touch. "It's gone. We won't go down that path, alright?" it takes a moment for the sixteen year old boy to respond, nodding his head vaguely as he melted into my embrace.

I keep my arms around him as we continue through the woods. It becomes apparent that Michael is still shaken up by the snake, and the temperature drops with each step we take. Its not late, five in the afternoon at most, but Michael looks like he is visibly breaking, as though the broken could break again.

So I veer off to the side, laying out a blanket and sitting the purple boy down on it. I grab some dry pieces of wood and gather them in a pile before pulling out a match from my backpack.

Tossing the match into the fire, I watch as the wood bursts into flames, sparks flying up in a fury as it rages to life. Michael scoots closer, eager to feel the fire's warmth. I sit down beside him, gently laying the two of us back until we are cuddled up by the fire. We don't bother staying apart since we both know we will end up next to each other by morning. Michael's hair tickles my chin and his fingers clutch my shirt in his small fist.

And I am content.

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A/N i swear i have a plan for this book okay stick with me here

i'm in study hall and i have no friends in here and im all alone help

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