LUKE

Thankfully it's Sunday, and I don't have to go to school today, trudging through meaningless classes and stoic teachers. Even school here, in this silent ghost of a town, is worthless. I've met plenty of friends through basketball and Ashton, but the process of dragging myself like a corpse through the classes makes me want to toss myself in front of a train.

I crash through bushes and do my best to avoid slamming into trees as I walk the path to the stone hanging like a cliff over the river. Squirrels leap away at the sound of my feet hiking ungracefully through the leaves, scurries away to the safeties of their own homes. I don't mind, the hope that Michael Clifford will be at the stone like he said he would coursing like ice through my veins.

It was so random, so unexpected to find the silent boy leaning against the tall tree like a skeleton, staring at me beneath his dark eyelashes to get my attention when I was talking with my friends. The moment I turned to him, he slipped back into the darkness of the woods and I was terrified I would lose him in the shadows, but instead he was there, leading me wordlessly through the trees like it was the most casual thing in the world, after weeks of keeping quiet.

My feet carry me to the stone, where a figure sits slumped over the edge, a shock of messy, lilac purple hair confirming my suspicions of the body's identity. I walk quietly over to him, sliding down beside him and leaning forward to get a view of the river below me, making sure my feet were tucked safety under me. Michael, however, fearlessly let his legs dangle over the sides, his bum hardly on the rock at all. As though if something happened and he slipped over the edge, he wouldn't care at all. Michael turns his head to look at me, his pale eyes eying my blue ones silently, and then a smile embellished his lips.

"You came." He says softly, the deep timbre of his voice sending palpitations to my heart and I put down the guard I had up.

"Yeah." I say, and look up to the horizon. "Of course." Michael turns back to the river and his eyes draw up, up to the mass of green trees and shrubberies creating a wasteland for animals and hidden adventures people have yet to seek. Michael lifts one of the hands that had been curled in his lap and points it somewhere in the cluster of land.

"Do you see up there? There's a cave." He says tenderly, as though if he lifted his voice the world would disintegrate. "I've always wanted to go up there. I haven't been able to." I follow his small finger up to the greeneries, until I found a gap in the shrubs, revealing grey rock that dipped into a dark structure. However, as my eyes returned to Michael's small pale hands, I see the sleeve of his sweater has been tugged back a bit up his arm, revealing a series of dark bruises adorning his skin.

Without thinking, I reach out and grasp onto his arm. Michael jumps, nearly falling straight off the cliff, and I can feel the pulse beat to the timing of trill under his pale skin. The boy yanks his arm away from my grip, pulling his sweater down to cover up the welts from my sight. He refuses to look at me, his face drained of any color.

"Michael, how did you get those?" My voice comes out rough, and I clear my throat to soften it, but the words are out and hanging like bricks in the air.

"I-I just ran into some trees. I spend a lot of time in the woods and I'm not c-careful enough." Michael stutters out, his voice sounding a bit desperate. He turns and focuses his grey eyes on me, doing his best to look sincere but I see right through it. I'm about to call him out on it to get him to tell the truth, but I'm scared he'll run away into the obscurity of the woods and never return. So I nod, but I've been in fights before, back in the city, and I know what it looks like to get beat up.

"So, how did you find this place?" I force myself to ask, and Michael's seems to deflate a little.

"I was-" he stopped, his breath hitching, and then he restarted, "I was just wandering around, and I stumbled across it." he leans over riskily and admires the rushing river below. He nods toward the ground, where a thin strip of slippery rocks decorate each side of the river. "I sometimes go down there. It's really slippery though, and it's easy to fall. I prefer to stay up here."

I peer down, my stomach churning at the thought of balancing on the wet rocks, covered in layers of slick algae and fighting to keep your poise. I scoot a bit further away from the edge at the idea of it. Suddenly a memory comes to mind- standing with Ashton on my first day at Greenwood and seeing that flash of purple behind the thick collection of trees. That was Michael.

"I saw you on my first day here. Right by the Mini Mart, behind all the trees." I say, and Michael looks at my questionably. "I didn't really see you, I just saw your hair."

A smile graces Michael's lips, as he shyly lifts his small hand to touch his colorful hair. "Yeah, it's pretty bright."

"I like it." I say honestly. Michael stares at me for a moment before his pale eyes flit away, returning yet again to the river, which continues to tumble over rocks and boulder directly in front of our eyes. Silence fills the air like honey, but it's not uncomfortable. Both of us just sit, fearlessly crouched on a stone hanging high over a river, and get lost in our own minds.

"Would you want to meet Ashton and Calum?" I ask suddenly, my heart lifting the more I thought of it. Beside me, Michael is wilting like a white rose. The purple flyaways of his hair drift in the breeze as he shakes his head softly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Why not?" I ask. Michael looks up, his pale eyes lifting to the horizon line, up to that cave he wishes to be at so bad, and his chest deflates.

"I don't want to. They don't know I live here." Michael whispers, his voice an echo of the river below. His sweater slips off his left shoulder and reveals pronounced collarbones, dangerously prominent in an unhealthy way, as though he thinks too much and eats too little.

"It'll be okay. They're really nice people, I promise." I say, my voice falling to a murmur identical to Michael's. Michael's small hands curl into tiny fists as he rubs at his eyes.

"I don't know." He says gently, and my ears strain to hear the three careful words. He drops his hands and his eyes slide to mine, dark shadows casting underneath them.

"You can do it. They'll love you." I say. Michael's shoulders droop, his chin dropping to his chest as he shoves his hands through his wispy hairs. He breathes out a heavy sigh, seeming to be fighting a thousand voices in his head as he gets to his feet with jerky movements, as though he is a puppet at the will of someone else. I stand to my feet as well, pushing off the stone with my hands and standing beside Michael, a few inches taller than him.

I reach out to touch him, a sign of encouragement, but Michael flinches away as my hand drew near, as though afraid I would hurt him. I draw my hand back, and Michael opens his sweet pink lips to stammer out an apology, but I just nod at him to follow me through the woods, although he knows the area much better than I do.

We enter the woods once again, the crashing sounds of the river fading like the sky as we stumble through the dirt, our worn converse treading across the dead plants crushed to fragments under our soles. Michael touches the trees as we walk the trail back to the Mini Mart, where I know Calum and Ashton will be, his short finger tracing the configurations of the bark. When we reach the edge of the woods, where the dirt comes to a crumbling end and the dusty concrete starts, Michael halts, his grey eyes looking white as the sun shines on him. He licks his dry lips, and I see his fingers twitching slightly, his unblinking stare gazing at everything and nothing. I walk forward out into the town, people strolling idly by, paying no mind to a colorful boy with jumbled up thoughts take his first step out of the woods in years.

We let our wordless thoughts fill the tense air between us as we walk slowly towards the Mini Market, my blood pumping hot in my veins, heart throbbing to the beat of our footsteps. We arrive much faster than I know Michael would have liked, and I take the leading step to the door, holding it open for myself and Michael, the cold metal of the door handle sending ice to my arteries. I walk in, instantly spotting Calum and Ashton sitting in the 50's style booth, sharing a basket of greasy fries. With a hesitant glance at the introverted boy behind me, I walk carefully to the booth, where Calum spots me quickly and sets a huge grin on his face.

"Luke, hey, mate!" Calum exclaims, beckoning to the seat beside him. "Sit down! I was just trying to explain basketball to Ashton, who clearly does not understand." Ashton pushes back his curly hair and rolls his hazel eyes, grabbing a floppy French fry from the center of the table.

"It just doesn't make sense." Ashton argues, dipping the flimsy snack into a bowl of red ketchup. "What's the point of throwing a ball into a hoop?" He brings the fry to his mouth after giving me a small wave, neither of them noticing the shy boy cowering behind me.

"Uh, guys," I clear my throat awkwardly and step to the side, exposing Michael in his sweater and dark jeans. "This is Michael. He's a...a friend of mine."

Calum lets out a cough when he sees the hidden boy and puts on a welcoming face. "Oh, hi! I didn't see you. I'm Calum."

Michael stares at him, not blinking. He seems to be paralyzed, his muscles locked into permanent slumber as he stands in the middle of a crowd of faces, his lilac purple hair standing out vivaciously. Ashton swallows and waves with a friendly smile.

"Here, sit down Michael. I'm Ashton." My short cousin offers, and when Michael glances at me, I give him a reassuring nod as I take a seat beside Calum. Michael slowly eases himself down beside Ashton, sitting on the very edge of the seat. He tugs on the sleeves of his sweater and ruffles up his hair nervously, his eyes darting around.

"Michael. I've never seen you before. Are you visiting?" Ashton asks politely, sensing the vulnerability of the boy. Michael's breath hitches slightly and he shakes his head.

"I-I live here." He responds shortly, looking at the spot above my head instead of at Ashton. Calum and Ashton both let out surprised sounds and lean forward with interest.

"Really? Why haven't I seen you around?" Calum wonders, tapping his hands on the top of the table. I watch carefully, scrutinizing Michael's anxious facial expressions as he stammers out answers.

"I don't really go into t-town very much." He replies, breathing out from his nose a couple of times to calm himself. I relax in my seat, not realizing how rigid my bones were.

My two friends nod appreciatively and then turn welcomingly to the four of us.

"I was thinking Ashton and I were going to perform All the Small Things at the bar in a couple of days." Calum says, gesturing to Ashton and him. "We've been practicing some and we think it's a pretty good choice."

"Blink-182?" Michael speaks from his little corner of the booth. His voice brings in a wave of interest to the subject, looking directly at Calum with hopeful eyes, shocking both himself and me.

"Yes! Do you like them?" Calum asks, a smile on his face at the opportunity to have another person to obsess about music with. Michael nods rapidly, and the two of them launch into a lengthy conversation about the various songs by the band, and it doesn't take long for Ashton to chime in as well. Michael's voice starts off tender, but the more comfortable he becomes the less he stutters and the more he smiles. I sit like a rock to the side, unmoving as I watch this beautiful transformation evolve in Michael, see the fire spark in his eyes as he talks about something he truly cares about.

Michael catches my eyes along the conversation, his eyes telling me everything he can't bring his lips to say. I know he is happy. I know he likes Calum and Ashton. I know Calum and Ashton like him. I know what it looks like to see Michael smile, his pink lips spreading out as his cheeks fluff up with the hint of dimples. His voice still does not reach even close to the loud proximity of Calum and Ashton's voices, and he still tugs on his sweater sleeves as he talks, but the boy in the 50's booth talking about All Time Low is just the thin shell of the boy who sits in the shadows of the woods.

"I've got to go, it's getting late." Michael says sensitively as he slips quietly off the booth, the conversation dying. I swiftly stand up, walking with him to the door of the Mini Market after waving goodbye to Calum and telling Ashton I'll meet him at the house. Michael gives me a soft smile as we walk out into the chilly night, the sky a dark ghost of what it was a couple hours ago.

"Meet me at the stone tomorrow?" I ask, and Michael nods, promising me before slipping like a shadow into the woods again, his frame swallowed up into the darkness. I nod to myself, Michael's voice echoing in my head before walking the familiar trail back home. I breathe in the fresh air through my nose and feel a smile tug at my lips. I've gotten used to the hushed town that is called Greenwood, all quiet and uneventful in every way possible. I've gotten used to the constant sound of the rushing river far away, and I've gotten used to living with my aunt, my short cousin, and two younger cousins that feel like siblings to me now. I almost don't want to go back to the city, where I will be forced to endure the loud noises- taxi's blaring impatient horns and my mother's hurried kisses before dashing off to work. I don't really want to go back to the city kids and the fights I always used to get in to stand my own ground. I find that I really just want to stay in the lonely town with Michael, sitting in front of the river with the secret cave beckoning to us in the distance. I haven't had a friend like that in a while, and I'm in love with the comfort I find in the essence of a purple boy named Michael.

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A/N I had no idea how to end this chapter and thisis a mess but here you go

I'm planning to update every Thursday (skipping this upcoming one since its already almost Tuesday) but yeah :)

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