CHAPTER 9
PAST
MIKEY - Age 11
“Mikey, will you marry me? I want to get married now. Look how beautiful Hinata looks in her wedding gown!” Lily asked me, her violet eyes so wide and sparkly.
“Duh.” I sighed. “Who else is going to marry you, Liliana?”
And just as I thought, her entire face turned pink. She was so predictable, my Lily. I called her mine because I knew she was made for me. I knew that from the moment I met her.
When Mama asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told her I never wanted to wake up. I recall at that time, Mama just laughed, telling me that one day I’d find a purpose in waking up every single day. Ever since I met Lily, that was all I wanted to do. I wanted to wake up and go see her.
See her talk for hours and hours about anime, see her violet-blue eyes glitter when they peered at me, and see her toothless grin.
Everything about her did funny things to my heart.
So she had to be made for me, right?
“Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbled as she went back to her drawing, giggling to herself. She always did that when we were watching anime. “Who else is going to marry me if not you? But wait.” She jolted upright, bringing her eyes back to me. “Will you pinky promise? That means you can never marry anyone else, or else you’ll lose your pinky.”
I shook my head. She was so silly, but I did it anyway because I would do anything to see that smile on her face.
She gave me the brightest grin before she got back to her sketches.
And my eyes drew back to the screen, watching the final episode of Naruto getting married to his love.
It was our favorite routine, and we did it almost every day while Emmie was out learning the guitar from his uncle Stephen. He was so obsessed with it that he spent every moment fiddling with some tune. I was secretly glad that he left me alone because that meant I could spend more time with Lily. I was here all the time, so much so that the Jamesons thought of me as a member of their little family. Sometimes I was really jealous of how close and happy they were because Mama, Dad, and I had never been happy. I didn’t even remember the last time we actually had dinner together.
“Mikey, now I’m sad it’s over. Should we watch it again?” She raised her brow. Her tongue pressed on her upper lip like it was the first time she asked me that.
I sighed. “Isn’t that what we always do?”
“Yes.” She laughed, switching back to the first episode.
We’d seen this so many times that I even knew some of the dialogue they would say next. I knew it even better than the math they taught in school. But I’d rather watch this a thousand times than go home. Dad was sick again, and Mama always asked me to hide in the closet. I didn’t like it one bit. So Mama asked me to stay here for the weekend. I was worried about Mama because she had been crying a lot recently.
“I’m done. Does it look good?” Lily sat up by my side, leaning close to my shoulder as she gave me her little art. “It’s you and me at our wedding,” she said, pointing at a girl in a flowery purple kimono and violet-tipped bob showing off a purple stone ring and a boy with long blond hair wearing a samurai-style kimono under a cherry blossom tree.
“We don’t look anything like that. My hair is not long and yours is not purple,” I mumbled, frowning to find the similarity, though our faces looked somewhat like us.
“Mikey,” she admonished. “It’s you and me when we grow up. See we are older here, like after school, maybe. I don’t know what age people get married, though.” She frowned, tipping her lips upward. “But your hair will be longer by then, and mine will be violet. It’s my favorite color. I want to do it now, but Mom says I’ll look too rowdy.”
I nodded. “But Lily, older boys have short hair. It grows, but they cut it. Only girls have longer hair.”
“No,” she whined, giving me a doe-eyed look. “Don’t cut yours. You’ll only be nice with longer hair.”
I scoffed, lifting my brow. “How do you know that? You’ve only seen me like this.”
“I just do.” She scrunched up her nose. It only made her cheeks rounder.
“Fine.”
And she grinned.
God, I can never say no to her.
“Psst,” hissed a voice in my ear. After watching anime for hours, Emmie finally joined us and fought with his sister over the TV. Thankfully, Emmie’s Mom called us all in for dinner, and we had the best meal, making jokes and laughing. And then it was bedtime.
“Psst,” the voice hissed again.
My eyes shot open. I knew exactly who it was and what it wanted.
It was the little mouse that woke me every single night I stayed here to make her favorite midnight snack.
I slid out of Emmie’s bed, who was deep asleep. Lily clasped my hand tightly as we sneaked out of his room.
“This has to stop, you know. Your parents won’t let me stay here if they find out,” I said as we walked into the kitchen.
She pouted, hopping herself up on the breakfast chair. “But Mikey, Mom won’t make me ramen when I ask her. She says it’s bad for health.”
I rolled my eyes as I started the pot to boil the water. “It’s because you ask her every day, Liliana.”
She flushed red. “Stop,” she mumbled, averting her gaze.
I smiled; it was so cute to rile her up.
“Here you go.” I brought the steaming pot of her favorite ramen in front of her. Yes, it was ramen and not noodles. I got the biggest lecture of my life when I called it noodles one day when I saw Naruto eating it. Lily screamed, pausing the show, and went on an hour-long lecture about how noodles were not ramen. Though she was annoying sometimes, I could watch her talk all day.
“Thank you. You’re the best cook, Mikey.”
“I know, little mouse.”
“Ugh,” she groaned, swirling her fork through some ramen. “I hate it when you call me that. ”
“But you are a little mouse. Only a mouse wakes up people when they are sleeping.”
“Pig,” she muttered, blowing on the steam before she ate it. Her expression instantly changed to wonder. “This is so good.”
“Yeah, it is.” I had some myself.
By the end, we were both fighting for the last bite since we always shared the bowl, and I ended up giving it to her like I always did.
Because Lily didn’t have to ask me anything. Whatever I had was already hers.