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The moment Gavin Free’s eyes lit up with an idea, Michael knew it was going to be a bad one.
It wasn’t surprising – most of Gavin’s ideas ended in catastrophe. They’d learned to expect it after eight years of friendship. Some ‘brilliant laid’ plans were worse than others, but as both boys gazed up at the olive green pine tree, Gavin’s next words put the idea at the top of the list.
“Tree climbing contest.”
Michael looked at him. “That’s over a hundred feet, Gavin, no fucking way.”
“But look!” Gavin said, pointing to a van parked just under the thick blanket of bottom branches. Michael had no idea what type of tree it was, but they were rare around Austin and nearly brown in the winter. The weather was finally beginning to chill, but the pines were still a muted green. “That can be our starting line.”
“We’re not standing on a Comcast van,” Michael laughed. “We’d get in huge trouble.”
“You say that like trouble ever stops you,” Gavin said with a pout. “You’re just saying no because you hate losing to me.”
“It’s hard to hate something that’s never happened,” Michael grinned. As it was, the proposal piqued Michael’s attention, and his eyes wandered back to the tree.
The base of the tall structure was bare, but fifteen feet from the ground a ring of branches protruded proudly from the trunk. Should Michael and Gavin stand on the roof of the van, the branches would be within reach.
Gavin caught onto Michael’s hesitation. He inched towards the van with an inviting grin. His foot planted onto the bumper, slightly rocking the car. “I can beat you to the top. Hundred bucks?”
Michael’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Even with the next GTA coming out next week?”
Nothing in Gavin’s eyes faltered. He nodded with a smirk, glancing tauntingly at the van. “Hundred dollars, Michael.”
“American dollars,” Michael said aggressively, excited at the prospect of finally being able to pay Geoff back for buying him lunch for the past few weeks.
Gavin pressed some of his weight onto the van. It tilted towards him, despite Gavin’s lanky body. “Come on, Michael, it’ll be fun.”
“I never said it wouldn’t be fun, it’s just stupid as fuck,” Michael said, though he was already sliding his phone out of his pocket. He hid it in the grass near the base of the tree and caught Gavin’s questioning stare. “I got lucky Mom bought me this in the first place – we could barely afford it, and if I break it in some stupid stunt, she’ll beat me with a wooden spoon.”
Gavin pursed his lips. Michael turned his phone to full volume and covered it with weeds.
He followed Gavin up the back of the van. Despite Gavin’s twiggy body shape, he was lithe and adept at contorting his body. Michael felt his first twinge of doubt when Gavin had to help Michael get his feet under him on the top of the van.
“I’m not going to drop mine,” Gavin said confidently, rubbing his iPhone through the pocket of his tight skinny jeans. Michael rolled his eyes.
“Right. Alright, so whoever makes it highest?” Michael asked, squinting up at the tree. The glare of the sun caught in his glasses and he nearly lost Gavin’s nod.
Gavin’s arms – which were just beginning to fill out – were just long enough for his fingers to wrap around the lowest branch. Michael mirrored the action, though his fingertips didn’t touch the wood at all. He’d have to jump.
“Ready?” Gavin asked, wiggling his butt in preparation. Michael nodded, face solemn with the sudden competitive edge. “Three, two, one – go!”
Michael’s palms scrapped against the jagged bark as he lifted himself to the branch. The path he began to follow led him away from Gavin, but he could hear the Brit’s grunts and huffs as the two raced up the side of the tree.
It was some sort of pine tree, with sparse branches and harsh wood. Gavin’s taste in trees for climbing wasn’t bad, but the higher they got, less branches were in reach. Michael was soon struggling to gain ground, but he could hear Gavin having similar trouble.
Some of the thinner branches snapped under Michael’s feet. He caught himself each time it happened, but the inch he fell made his heart stutter regardless. Gavin squawked with each snapped tree branch.
“Are you trying to sabotage me?” Gavin eventually yelled between pants.
“No, I guess I’m just fat!” Michael hollered back. Gavin’s laugh was whipped away by the breeze.
As the branches thinned, they delved further into the tree until both boys were flush with the trunk. Michael’s face pulled into a sneer.
“Gavin, get your fucking hands on your own side,” Michael said, poking at Gavin’s white-knuckled hands.
“Where else am I going to put them?” Gavin said. He was looking down, something Michael had forced himself to avoid. Michael focused on Gavin and the trunk only, fearful of psyching himself out. “This tree is a lot taller from up here.”
“This tree was tall to start with,” Michael pointed out. They were both paused in the same spot, slightly light-headed with the change in air pressure. Gavin looked down again. “Stop looking down, dumbass.”
“It’s cold up here,” Gavin said, wrinkling his nose.
“Giving up?” Michael said lightly, smiling like a shark.
“No,” Gavin said instantly before pulling himself up a foot. Michael followed. The trunk was beginning to thin so much that he could lean forward and kiss Gavin if he wanted.
“Good, because neither am I,” Michael said airily. He looked around for a branch to grab, but the next one was only within jumping distance. Without thinking, Michael looked down to assess the branch he was standing on and paled.
Gavin hadn’t been exaggerating. It was over a hundred feet up – a fall from here would certainly cause serious injury, if not death. His hands trembled and seemed to flush cold. Heart leaping between his ribcage to jackrabbit frantically, Michael gasped and hugged the tree trunk.
“Ow,” Gavin yelped when Michael’s fingers caught his chin. “What was that?”
“Fuck, you were right,” Michael growled into the bark. “This is really high.”
Gavin’s swallow was audible. He looked up and down. “How about we start climbing down?”
“Yeah…” Michael murmured. His eyes sharpened. “Who wins?”
Gavin looked at him. “Neither of us?”
Michael’s mouth twisted. “How about you give me fifty and we call it a draw.”
“Why would I give you fifty for a draw?” Gavin snorted, shaking his head. “Hundred or nothin’.”
Michael craned his neck to see if he was technically above Gavin, but Gavin was half a foot above him. “Goddammit,” he cursed. He looked up at the next branch for which he needed to jump.
Before he could convince himself not to, Michael made a tight, controlled little jump and wrapped his thighs around the trunk. His shoe made contact with some body part of Gavin’s, but he was almost two feet above the Brit now.
“That was – ow – Michael, stop!” Gavin said, voice catapulting four octaves. From around the trunk, Michael could see the left side of Gavin’s face. The visible green eye was frighteningly large. “Michael – okay, fine, you can have the hundred. You know that you can always ask if you need money –”
Heat burst in Michael’s cheeks. He jerked back at the accusing words. “I’m not groveling for your fucking money, Gavin. We made a bet!”
“I wasn’t saying that!” Gavin rebuked. “I just know that it’s tight at your house –”
“That doesn’t mean I’m begging for handouts,” Michael said hotly, embarrassment causing his chest to feel overheated. “Nevermind, you can keep the money. I don’t want it if you think I’m trying to squeeze it out of you.”
Gavin grumbled something into the other side of the trunk. Their positions put Gavin’s hands just above Michael’s knees, and Michael could feel it when Gavin nervously twitched his hands.
“You go down first,” Michael said after an awkward pause. “Otherwise I might step on your fingers.”
Gavin muttered something else, but Michael consciously didn’t listen. Gavin’s hands inched their way down, brushing against Michael’s jean-clad legs, until they reached his ankles and paused.
“What?” Michael asked when Gavin didn’t move.
“I can’t reach the next one unless I let go,” Gavin said.
“Hug the tree and slide down,” Michael suggested.
“And scrape up my frontal bits?” Gavin said incredulously. “No way. I’m going to come to your side and scoot down from there.”
Michael snorted and pulled up his legs to allow Gavin room. As the Brit stretched a leg around the trunk, however, a loud snapping sound made both boys jump. Michael looked down, but the view was blocked by his own chest.
“What the fuck was that?” Michael demanded.
“The branch!” Gavin exclaimed. “It snapped under my weight! I could’ve been standing on that, what if I’d –”
Michael interrupted before Gavin could work himself all the way to hysteria. “Do you have a place to stand now? Are you okay?”
“I have a branch,” Gavin answered uncertainly. “But what if this one breaks?”
“It won’t,” Michael assured him. “Some of them are weaker than others, but if it hasn’t broken yet, it won’t.”
Gavin just squeaked a bit in reply.
Michael took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his spinning head. Panic at being trapped this high was already beginning to quicken his breath, but falling into hysteria – or worse, an asthma attack – up here would lead to nothing but disaster.
“Gavin.” Michael said tightly. “Can you go any further down?”
There was a pause as Gavin assessed his surroundings. His return was nothing hopeful. “No, I’m bloody stuck. I can move back to my side, if you want to try, but if I can’t reach, you won’t be able to either.” Gavin wriggled back over to his side of the trunk.
One of the larger branches must’ve hollowed and broken, and there was now a large gap between the next ring of leaves. Michael had to swallow down his next inhale – it felt dangerously tight.
“Michael,” Gavin said fearfully.
Unsure if Gavin was aware of Michael’s airways gradually constricting or if Gavin was just beginning to panic, Michael coughed out a harsh breath. “Yeah?”
“We can’t get down without falling that short distance,” Gavin said. “Or doing what you said and sliding down, but that would bloody hurt.”
“I think we’d just end up falling,” Michael said honestly. “Uh – you have your phone, right, Gav? Call Ryan.”
“Ryan?”
“He’s tall enough to reach between the branches. We could probably step on his shoulders and get down.”
“Why not Geoff?”
“Geoff isn’t going to climb this tree. Ryan will.”
Gavin paused. “Okay, calling Ryan.”
Michael waited anxiously as Gavin spoke to a bewildered Ryan Haywood. He shifted further up the tree so he could sit comfortably on the branch and pull his jacket tighter. The night breeze was beginning to coast in, and soon the temperature would begin to drop.
“He’s coming,” Gavin said in a strangled voice. Michael frowned.
“What’d he say?”
“He didn’t understand why we were up here,” Gavin said, but he was hiding something. Michael simply waited for more. Gavin sighed. “Ryan said he was picking up everyone else before coming for us.”
Michael tensed. “Gavin, it’s already getting cold! By the time Ryan gets here, we’re going to have hypothermia!”
“He only has to pick up Ray,” he defended weakly.
“Gavin, I’m going to fucking murder you,” Michael said in a forced monotone. Grinding his teeth together, Michael pushed his forehead against the bark, the rough chips of wood digging into his skin. Gavin didn’t reply, stewing in a pouting silence.
As Michael predicted, it began to get cold within the hour. It was late afternoon, with the sun still husky in the sky, but both boys began to shiver nonetheless. Idle conversation kept ending up back at the situation at hand, and they soon gave up.
The sound of car doors slamming made them both perk. Familiar voices drifted up to them.
Geoff’s shout was distinguishable enough for both boys to smile. “Holy fucking shit!”
“Yeah,” Gavin called back.
“I mean, holy shit –”
“We get it,” Michael yelled down. “It’s high! Now, Ryan, can you please just help us get down?”
“What do you want me to do?” Ryan demanded disbelievingly.
“We’re missing a branch!” Michael said.
“Be our branch!” Gavin added.
“How do you expect me to get up there?” Ryan yelled.
“How the hell did you get up there?” Ray joined.
“We got on top of the van and it was easy from there!”
There was a pregnant pause.
“What van?” Geoff eventually said.
Michael and Gavin met eyes. Michael’s horror was reflected there. The van must’ve driven off, and now no one could follow them up the tree.
Gavin swallowed. “How high do you think we are?”
Michael could hear murmuring as they conferred. “Hundred, hundred and twenty feet?” Ryan guessed.
“Too high to jump,” Michael said quickly, before Gavin could ask.
“But the branches would slow us down, right?” Gavin said, but it was half-hearted.
“We’re not jumping,” Michael said firmly before raising his voice enough for the others to hear. “Well, what should we do?”
Geoff sounded as scared as Michael felt. “Do you want me to call–?”
“No!” Michael and Gavin simultaneously yelled.
“Well, how are you getting down?” Jack demanded. His voice carried better through the branches than any of the others.
“Can’t you find a ladder?” Gavin shouted.
There was another pause. “I mean we can try!” Ray finally said.
Michael looked at Gavin and shook his head. “There is no way they’re going to find a tall enough ladder to reach the branches. What are we going to do?”
Gavin squeezed his eyes shut and made his face of ‘I’m thinking; don’t talk’.
“Wait!” Michael cried. “That shady guy I part time for! He has a stretched ladder that might reach!”
Gavin’s eyes popped open. He nodded quickly and dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone and reaching to hand it to Michael. But before Michael could stretch out a hand, the phone slipped through Gavin’s tan fingers.
They watched the device fall, occasionally hitting a tree branch on the way down, until it was no longer visible as it hit the ground. Gavin’s mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. He looked up at Michael with saucer-like eyes. “Do you think that cracked the screen?”
Michael snorted. “Gavin, if that didn’t completely break the phone, I’ll eat this branch.”
Gavin’s face displayed nothing but distress. Michael chuckled dryly before the gravity of the situation returned to him and nearly knocked him out of the tree. He leaned a cheek against the tree.
“He probably wouldn’t have come anyway,” Michael said dully. He couldn’t stand the look on Gavin’s face. “In fact, I don’t even think I remember his number by heart.”
Slowly, the horror faded from Gavin’s face and he was somewhat normal again. He seemed to be internally debating something behind his eyes, and it wasn’t until he offered a hand that Michael understood.
Rolling his eyes and swallowing the butterflies, Michael took hold of Gavin’s sweaty hand. Gavin’s fingers constricted like small pythons around Michael’s palm. “Christ, Gav,” Michael hissed with a wince.
“We can’t find a ladder!” Ryan called up suddenly. “This neighborhood blows!” He paused. “Michael, your phone is ringing from down here!”
“Who is it?”
“Your mom!”
Michael cringed. “Answer it! She’ll be pissed if I ignore it.”
There was a pause as they presumably talked to Michael’s mother. Waiting with bated breath, Michael tried to keep his breathing slow and even. His mother would be furious at his stupidity. He wondered how long she’d ground him for, what she’d restrict from him. No TV, no computer, no video games –
No inhaler. He didn’t have his inhaler. Michael patted the pockets of his jacket and searched his pants. There was nothing but lint and three pennies.
“What?” Gavin asked in a shaky voice.
“I – uh,” Michael stuttered. During his list of ‘no’s, he realized that he also had no inhaler – he’d left it at home.
“Michael?” Gavin questioned.
“I can’t breathe,” Michael finally stammered. Hyperaware of his missing inhaler, the reality of the sudden life-threatening danger slammed into Michael like a boxing glove.
“What?” Gavin practically yelled. A hand scrabbled along the bark until Gavin’s fingers curled in the fabric of Michael’s jacket and pulled him flush against the trunk.
“Gav–” Michael started. He was interrupted by a pre-asthma attack hiccup. “Oh – hic – God.”
Gavin’s hand tightened in his shirt.
“Uh oh,” he thought he heard one of the boys mutter from below.
“What?” Michael demanded, pushing back the hot, bubbling panic in the back of his throat. “What did you tell her?”
“Blame Jack!” Ray called up.
“She’s calling the fire department,” Geoff said, but he didn’t sound particularly upset. Michael’s stomach clenched but he wasn’t surprised. There was no other solution at this point. Michael could only hope that it wouldn’t be a huge fuss once the fire truck got there.
Gavin’s hand periodically tightened and loosened as they waited in tense silence. Michael was unsure who Gavin was trying to console – himself or Michael. Looking at the Brit, Gavin didn’t look as nervous as he was acting. It occurred to Michael that when he’d last had an asthma attack, Gavin had been the only one there. Gavin was probably worried that he’d be put in a similar situation and expected to help.
And Gavin Free was not good at providing help.
“Michael?” Gavin ventured. “You’re not – breathing funny… right?”
Michael huffed. “No,” he said stubbornly, forcing the word to come normally. “No, I’m fine.”
Gavin fell silent, but continued to clutch his hand tightly. Michael squeezed back for the first time just as the fire truck arrived. Following after the truck were three flashing cop cars.
It became chaos moments after.
Geoff, Ryan, Jack, and Ray vanished into the mayhem. Gavin’s anxiety level seemed to skyrocket when the voices of their friends disappeared. A stranger with a bullhorn took their place.
Michael let Gavin do the talking, choosing to instead retreat inwards to keep calm. His breathing became tighter and tighter as time passed, chest burning. It was difficult to push air out as well as suck it in. A deep, crackling sound grinded up Michael’s windpipe with every inhale. The rising vertigo forced him to cling to the trunk of the tree, letting go of Gavin’s hand in the process.
Michael didn’t realize he was falling until something snapped under his back.
It was anti-climactic – and later, Michael wouldn’t remember the events leading up to it – but he fell from the tree with lifeless grace. He hit branches on the way down, bruising lines of purple and blue across his back, but it saved his life. The speed at which he hit the ground stunned him, but he never lose complete consciousness.
He came back to himself when someone pressed a familiar plastic between his teeth and filled his lungs with a huge, filling breath.
His eyes fluttered open. The sky was gorgeous. It was a paint swatch of blues, orange, reds, and purples. Michael appreciated the view lazily, dimly aware that Geoff was repeating his name.
A firefighter – a burly fellow with thick stubble and heavy gear – was sitting cross-legged in the grass next to Michael. His helmet was off. It was a bizarre sight – one that did not help Michael return to a clear mindset. He had a small oxygen tank next to him, complete with a mask and tube. Geoff, however, had his inhaler.
Breathing through his mouth, Michael gently pushed Geoff out of his face and sat up. The firefighter straightened and moved forward to support his back. The three were given space by the growing crowd still staring and pointing up at the tree.
“Michael Jones?” the man said at the same time Geoff said, “Michael?”
Michael nodded as he absently rubbed his sore chest. While it hadn’t been a violent attack, he must’ve slipped into the trance that accompanied. But one spritz from his stupid inhaler and Michael’s lungs opened back up.
Geoff, who’d never worn a serious expression in his life, was looking about three shades of transparent. His Adam’s apple bobbed in a rough swallow. “Holy shit, dude,” he said in his characteristic voice crack.
The firefighter held up a hand, signaling for Geoff to wait. Geoff nodded and sat back to give Michael room. He offered the redhead the inhaler, but Michael shook his head vehemently.
The firefighter patted his back with hands the size of dinner plates. Michael’s mind was in a space other than his head, and he realized belatedly that he was wheezing once again. Forcing the air through his nose rather than his mouth, Michael looked at the man.
“My name is Jon,” the firefighter said in a clear voice. “Are you experiencing any pain?”
Michael nodded. It felt like his heart had swelled and clogged up his throat.
“Where?” Jon prompted gently.
Michael shook his head. His breathing became audible, a strange and throaty rasping building low in his chest. Tears sprung into his eyes and he coughed to clear the invisible blockage, but it only produced a noise akin to a death rattle.
Through the film over his eyes, Michael could see Geoff move forward with the inhaler, but once again Jon held up a hand. Reaching behind him, Jon retrieved the oxygen mask and fit it over Michael’s nose and mouth.
Instantly, his convulsing lungs were stilled, expanding with the constant flow of filling, slightly sweet air. Though it was no substitute for asthma medication, his lungs stretched pleasantly at the fresh breath.
When his chest finally loosened, Michael could feel Jon patting his back again. Strong fingers probed around his back in search of bumps or deformities. Michael pulled the mask away from his face to speak.
“Did they,” Michael tried in a gasping croak. His voice was pitched oddly low. He cleared his throat. “Did they get Gavin down?”
Geoff cracked a wobbly smile, though he was visibly shaken. “They’re carrying him down now. Congrats, dude, I think you pulled out an entirely new array of noises from Gavin.”
Michael laughed, a horribly dry hacking sound. He spoke while Jon tested out his limbs, flexing his wrist and fingers in search of dislocations. “Did I scare him?”
The look in Geoff’s eye was something more than a ‘yes’.
“Good,” Michael grinned. “T-The fucker got us into that mess.”
Geoff’s lips thinned. “Well, you also scared everyone watching. What happened?”
“High altitudes, anxiety, and asthma,” Jon answered for him. “Two of those is a bad situation. All three can be fatal. What the hell possessed you two to pull that kind of stunt? How did you even reach the branches?”
“It was a bet,” Michael rasped. Jon wordlessly pushed the mask back over his mouth and fixed him with a disapproving glare.
Geoff frowned like the information had disappointed – but not surprised – him. “Okay. The barbeque bet was funny. The gummy bear was fucking disgusting, but it was fun to watch. Even the ketchup bet was good. This was… stupid. And dangerous.”
Michael busied himself with the oxygen mask, scowling slightly. He ached to reply with something along the lines of, You’re one to talk, Geoff, because Geoff was one to talk. Geoff had tattoos and ear piercings – and was just beginning to grow out of his ugly duckling years – and he was the king of pulling stupid stunts. No one ever got mad at Geoff when he broke bones on his skateboard, or when a dude named Porch put a dent in his head.
But Geoff rarely put his life at danger. Geoff also did not have severe asthma.
Growling, Michael pulled the mask away from his face and said, “Where’s Gav? I need to collect my winnings.”
Geoff pursed his lips. He looked at Jon, who’d ended his examination unceremoniously. “Find anything?”
“He needs X-rays on his right shoulder. What for bruising on your ribs,” Jon said seriously.
Michael snorted and already knew none of that would be happening. His mom was unemployed and he had no health insurance. They couldn’t afford a simple checkup. “You’re a firefighter, what do you know?”
“I have a degree in medicine,” Jon replied. “Your ribs might be cracked or bruised. You fell from a great height. I don’t think you have any internal damage, but it’s always better to be safe.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Are medical degrees required for beefheads?”
Jon rolled his eyes but smiled. He stood, edging towards the small oxygen tank. Michael clutched the mask closer to his face and inhaled deeply, but Jon didn’t try to take it. “Let’s move over to the truck. We have security blankets and water bottles.”
Michael allowed the firefighter to pull him upright. Geoff hovered like an over-concerned humming bird as Michael wobbled. His sides burned with every inhale, but it was a familiar feeling. Thankfully, Geoff didn’t try to offer the inhaler just yet. Instead, it disappeared into Geoff’s back jeans pocket.
Jon helped him to the fire truck. Michael had never seen one up close, but they were much more complicated than he imagined. Jon sat him down on a ledge of the truck, near the hose, and threw a soft, red blanket over his shoulders. A chilled water bottle was then pushed into Michael’s hands.
Michael snatched up the mask again and closed his eyes blissfully when his lungs expanded properly. He could feel Geoff’s weight dip next to him and glanced up to see familiar faces.
“Michael!” Ryan called as he led the way through the small crowd. It mostly consisted of firefighters who didn’t notice as the three boys barreled past. Jack and Ray were close behind the handsome blond.
They all stopped just short of the redhead, sweaty and wide-eyed.
“That was probably the sickest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ray said, sounding literally nauseous. “That was more insane than when Gavin went cliff diving and brained himself on the reef.”
Hiding his haggard voice, Michael spoke into the oxygen mask. “Where is Gavin?”
“He’s fine,” Ray assured. “Freaked out and grounded for about a month – and they’re making him sit and talk with a police officer – but he’s fine.”
Michael laughed wheezily before pulling away the mask. “For a month? That’s – That’s a little harsh.”
“Jesus Christ, Michael,” Ryan cringed before physically pushing the mask back into place. “Stop talking. You sound like a broken squeaker.”
Michael frowned, nodding.
“So what happened?” Jack asked, looking between Geoff and Michael. “Gavin said a… tree climbing race?”
“I won,” Michael muttered.
“Did you jump?” Ryan asked, baffled. “Did Gavin push you? What the fuck happened?”
“You said to stop talking,” Michael said evasively, unwilling to describe what exactly had transpired. Later, Gavin would undoubtedly relay every second in frightening detail, including how Michael had limply slid off the top of the tree. It was embarrassing in every way.
Ryan rolled his eyes but seemed to understand. His head turned at the sound of a woman yelling Michael’s name.
Despite knowing Ray, Ryan, and Jack wanted to haggle him for more, Michael hopped off the truck and unhesitatingly leapt into his mother’s hug. The blanket clung to his shoulders and he could feel Mom’s cold, shaking hands worm under the fabric to grip at his shirt.
She squeezed him, perhaps too tight. Pain, sudden and stabbing, throbbed on the right side of his torso. His mom’s arm rubbed up right against the sore spot and caused Michael to flinch out from the embrace.
Her hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. He was surprised to see a smear of blood on her skin. Reading his face, she said, “Oh, hon, you got cut up on the way down. They told me what happened.”
He laughed when she lightly slapped him. It was nothing more than a quick, hard pat on the cheek – meant to scold, not hurt. “Sorry, Ma,” he said, voice gravely. Her eyes abruptly sharpened and he could see when she pieced out the puzzle.
“Boy,” she started. “If you tell me you didn’t have your inhaler–”
“No, no, ‘course not,” Michael said quickly. “I – I mean, I didn’t have it with me, but Geoff –”
“But Geoff did,” she said angrily. “So Geoff – whose lungs work perfectly fine – had your inhaler, but you didn’t.”
Michael sighed, but it ended in a cough. The anger faded from her expression, hands fluttering above his chest. Her brown eyes took on a motherly edge. “You’re grounded,” she said without heat. “For a week. Now go let them take care of you.”
Michael didn’t mention how they’d basically discharged him at this point. He nodded and wrapped large hands around his mother’s dainty ones and squeezed gently. While she wasn’t a small woman, he was beginning to overtake her height and size. It didn’t lessen her superiority in the household, despite Michael being the only child still living at home.
Combing her hands through his messy curls – dislodging twigs and leaves along the way – she gave her son a hasty, embarrassing peck on the cheek and told him she’d be waiting for him by the bus stop.
For once, no one ragged on Michael when he rejoined the others. His breathing had become strenuous once again, and it was with a challenging glare to his friends that he took back the oxygen mask.
He only caught up to Gavin one time the rest of the night. The minute darkness fell – and Gavin had given his statement to the police – everyone began to disperse. Thankfully, Michael didn’t live in this neighborhood; none of the activity had bothered his neighbors. Gavin, however, looked miserable and tired when Michael saw him next.
In a show of sensitivity that Michael hadn’t thought Gavin to possess, Gavin wrapped Michael in an aggressive hug on sight.
“Woah,” Michael said over Gavin’s shoulder. While Michael used to be inches taller, they stood at equal height now. “Gav? You didn’t fall, too, did you?”
Gavin pulled back, hands on Michael’s shoulders, confused. “What?”
“No concussion?” Michael joked weakly, rapping his knuckles lightly on Gavin’s skull.
The fire truck pulled off the curb of the street and drove away. It left them in near darkness, with only the streetlamps.
“You have a concussion?” Gavin asked, misunderstanding.
“No, no – nevermind, Gav,” Michael laughed. “Could you see a path where I broke all the branches? They’re saying that saved my life.”
“It was bloody terrifying! The noise was like firepops–”
“The hell is a firepop?” Michael questioned.
“– and then you just didn’t move at the bottom,” Gavin finished and Michael realized that Gavin wasn’t laughing. Michael’s smile dimmed.
“It must’ve looked like I was dead,” Michael sympathized, though it came out slightly mean.
“It did, you donut,” Gavin said with rare venom. “It wasn’t funny. You have no idea how terrifying that was, to watch you fall. And then, for like five minutes, they wouldn’t tell me if you were even alive–”
“Okay, okay,” Michael interrupted, guilt souring any pleasure he could’ve possibly drawn from Gavin’s regret. “Sorry, I’m sorry. You’re still giving me that hundred bucks, though, right?”
The tension in Gavin’s eyes was replaced by a familiar exasperation.
“Yeah, he’ll need it for the medical bills,” Geoff joked, appearing over Michael’s shoulder. He grinned at Gavin’s horror. “You’re going with him to the hospital.”
Michael’s insides iced over. He hadn’t mentioned to his mom the ‘order’ to get X-rays, knowing that she’d sacrifice a week’s worth of her meals for just a precaution. “Uh, no.”
“Uh, yes,” Geoff mocked.
“Geoff, please, you bust a bone at least once a month,” Michael said dismissively. Geoff huffed, disgruntled. “Besides, my mom wants me home. She’s waiting for me by the bus.”
“My mom can give you guys a ride home,” Ray offered.
“Nah, I don’t want to deal with Mama Narvaez tryna hit us up for another fuckin’ dinner date,” Michael laughed and Ray smiled in rueful agreement.
“Fair enough.”
Michael grinned and turned to Gavin, intending to playfully push him out of the way, or softly punch him on the arm, but the frown seemed to have festered and morphed into something thicker. The unstable look in his eyes unsettled Michael.
It wasn’t something that Michael wanted to joke about, so the words stuck in his throat, and an uncomfortable moment of tension passed between the two.
And, in typical Gavin fashion, he plastered on a painful smile and disappeared between Jack and Ryan.
Confused, Michael looked at Geoff.
Instead of providing an answer, Geoff said, “Go get some sleep, dude, you look like pure shit. And stink.”
Michael waggled his eyebrows and lifted his arm, taking a sniff. He mostly smelled of dirt, with a hint of BO. “What, eau de Michael isn’t your taste?”
“Not unless the Michael is friends with the soap,” Ryan replied, chuckling.
“I’ll walk you to the stop,” Geoff said. Michael waved farewell to the others and walked in stride with Geoff.
Sliding a hand from his pocket, Geoff wordlessly handed over the inhaler. Michael resisted the urge to throw it on the ground and stomp repeatedly.
“I don’t know why it bothers you so much,” Geoff said. He slowed their pace.
“It doesn’t,” Michael said begrudgingly. “I got enough shit from my brothers. You know… ‘yo paper lungs’, ‘hey Wheezy’, ‘sup Squeaker’.” Geoff cringed, familiar with the ribbing between the Jones’ siblings. “Trust me, Geoff. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”
Geoff sucked on his teeth.
“It does piss me off a little,” Michael eventually allowed, when Geoff offered nothing. “I’ll eventually grow out of it, but if I can’t climb a fucking tree…”
“Well then, stop fucking climbing trees!” Geoff exclaimed, and Michael couldn’t disagree with that. “And don’t let Gavin talk you into dumb shit like that – he keeps offering me a grand to sit in the middle of the Park’s fountain and cry. Just cry.”
“A grand?” Michael echoed. “For a damn fountain? Why don’t you do it?”
“Because it’s fucking stupid, and he wouldn’t pay me anyway,” Geoff said. “And once I actually agree, he’ll back right out of it.”
“That’s true – I think that entire debacle was a waste of time,” Michael said. “He’s not going to give me anything – except shit for falling out of a fucking tree.”
Geoff was already shaking his head before Michael finished the sentence, but by then they were at the bus stop. Michael could see his mom sitting under the overhang.
“Nah,” Geoff said. “Maybe for the asthma thing, but I think you actually may’ve scared his dick out today. Gavin isn’t a stressed out dude, but when his feet finally touched the ground again, he was shaking.”
“Alright, alright, I don’t need a guilt trip. It was his fucking fault – I can pull at his nerves a little.”
Geoff sighed through his nose. He patted Michael on the back in a strangely sincere gesture; Geoff’s normal physical affections tended to feel sarcastic, like he was making fun of himself.
“Michael?” Michael’s mom called, turning around in the booth to peer over the glass. “Sweetie, c’mon, I have four water bottles the nice firemen gave me.”
Michael rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to Geoff, who walked away trying to smother his grin, before sitting down next to his mom.