Page 21 of Michael: The Hawthornes

“What the hell?” he said in confusion as he caught sight of Emilia.

“Hey, Titus,” she said, smiling nervously.

“You’re back?”

“I’m back.”

“Holy crap,” he said, glancing at me. “Where the hell have you been? Mick went nuts when you—”

“Titus,” I barked, cutting him off. “You stink, man. Take a shower.”

“You try running like five miles and see how you smell,” he shot back, lifting up his arm to sniff his pit. “Nah, I’m good.”

“You smell like ass.”

“Then I won’t get too close,” he said in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”

“Are you doing track?”

“Yep,” Titus said, peeling off his socks. “And I’m faster than everybody so I’m on varsity.”

They kept talking, but I tuned them out as I walked over and looked out the big window behind the dining table. Myla and Rhett were playing on the bottom level of the tree house that was really just a platform about a foot off the ground. Once upon a time, we’d had a little picnic table there. I watched as the two chattered away, talking a mile a minute.

They’d just met, but their expressions and the way they moved were so similar. With their matching brown hair, they looked like they were siblings.

Rhett said something to Myla, and she nodded then hopped off the platform. As she turned to face him, he jumped too. It should’ve been no big deal. The drop wasn’t very far, but something must’ve tripped him because he landed with a thump on his hands and knees on the gravel below, his sunglasses falling off his face.

I was on the move before I even heard him howl. I’d almost reached them when Myla lifted him onto her hip. If my heart hadn’t felt like it was going to tear its way out of my chest, the sight of them would’ve been funny.

“You’re okay,” Myla soothed as she hugged him, a little unsteady on her feet as she shifted his weight.

“Hey, pal,” I said, reaching for him. “You okay?”

“Fell,” he wailed, letting me take him from Myla.

“What happened?” Emilia asked, running toward us. As she stopped beside me, I could see her indecision between letting me hold him and comforting him herself.

“Fell,” Rhett cried. “Owie.”

“Aw, man,” Emilia said, coming closer. “That stinks.”

“Hurts,” Rhett cried.

He didn’t reach for her, and I felt about ten feet tall.

“Let’s go in and clean those owies,” Emilia said, rubbing Rhett’s back. “Okay?”

“Band-Aid?” Rhett asked as we started for the house.

“We’ll put a Band-Aid on if you need one.”

“I’m so sorry, Emmy,” Myla said, her voice quivering. “I don’t know what happened. He was just going to jump off the platform, but he fell somehow.”

“Not your fault,” I said, sending her a reassuring smile. “He tripped.”

“Ties,” Rhett said miserably, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could look at Emilia. “Shoe ties.”

“Aw, man,” Emilia said, grabbing Rhett’s foot. “I’m sorry your shoe came untied.”

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