The Hours We Have

chapter forty-three

I crept up to my window. 

I made sure to keep my head down, just below the window sill, until I was close enough to peek over. 

I instantly recognized the person standing in my backyard at nearly midnight. She was wearing the pink camouflage hoodie I had given her last Christmas and it stuck out in the dark like a sore thumb. I undid the locks of my window and slid it up. Chilly evening air rose goosebumps over my damp skin and I shivered a bit. 

"Malia!" I hissed as quietly as possible, "What are you doing here?" 

"Do you not want to be friends anymore?" came her response. 

I faltered. "W-what?" 

"You haven't answered your phone in like a week," She sounded angry now, even if I couldn't see her face in the dark, "You didn't return my texts, it's like you dropped off the face of the earth. Do you not want to be friends anymore?" 

"No--I mean, yes, yes I want to be friends," I stumbled over my words, I felt so stupid that I had forgotten to check my phone at all with everything that had happened, "Malia, you're my best friend. I'm not... ever going to stop being your friend." 

"Then why have you been ignoring me?" 

"I've been really busy," I said, "I honestly forgot and that's the truth, it's not some bull lie." 

She was quiet for a long time.

"Malia?"

"Can I stay the night?" She asked. 

They say that a best friend always knows when something is wrong, even when the words aren't spoken, and I knew Malia had something going on. I mean, it was unusual for her to sneak to my house, even with the belief I didn't want to be her friend. Especially when we lived an hour apart, and it was pitch black over the sleeping city. 

"Yeah, sure," I answered. 

"Without your brothers finding out?" 

I found my lips twitching. "They live here, they might find out." 

"Jordyn, come on, please?" 

"Alright, fine, I'll do my best," I rolled my eyes and with a quick glance over my shoulder, I stepped out onto the roof. Malia followed me to the end of the roof and I crouched down, "There is some lattice," I pointed, hoping she could see me in the dark, "It should hold for you to climb up." 

"Okay," Malia nodded and I hadn't realized she had a small pack until she slung it over her shoulders. Her fingers searched for the wooden lattice in the dark and then she began climbing, "Is this the way you sneak out?" 

I chuckled, "I don't sneak out anymore." 

"You did," She teased, grasping the edge of the roof and I helped her the rest of the way, "Remember?" 

"That was one time," I glanced at her face but it was shadowed and only sparse features were defined in the faint light from my room, "It was your idea anyway, that's why we got caught."

 When I had turned eighteen, I had a bit of a rebellious stage in my life, especially without parents, and Mikeal absolutely hated it. Of course, I invited Malia to join my mischief, and we had the time of our lives--for those short moments, we were happy. 

It was the last summer before college. 

A time where you have to spend every last moment of your late childhood reliving all those happy memories with a melancholic heart. A few shorts months to try and explore the world with barely spread wings because when the last childhood summer ended, it seemed the world stole the child that had lived in our hearts.