✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

31: Thanksgiving

ARI.

There was a lot of things I was thankful for. My health, my home, my family, my friends and of course greasy, cheesy pizza. Sometimes, when we're caught up in our lives, we complain about the little things, forgetting that there's people who have problems far worse than whole milk in lattes or no cell service. And today, I had a ton of things to be thankful for.

Thanksgiving break rolled in and so did the day when Turkeys are spent the entire day cooking, when we watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and then after stuffing ourselves with all the mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce our stomachs can fit, we head over to the shops to buy that big screen TV without getting trampled.

Not only was it Thanksgiving, but it was also the same day Luke would be released from the hospital. After a couple of weeks, several IV-drips, a small complication with bruised organs, my best friend was finally coming home.

Because Ashton and Calum didn't really celebrate the holiday, they agreed to come over and help my mom and I with our Thanksgiving dinner. My mom thought it'd be best to combine both dinner and a welcome home party for Luke, to which I did not object to. I thought it was very generous of her.

"A little to the left and up about an inch Cal," I stood a few feet away from Calum and Ash who stood on stools, suspending a homemade banner against the wall. As I tilted my head to the left and then to the right, scrutinizing the placement of the welcome home banner, the guys surprisingly followed my orders. Though I was pretty sure they were scared about screwing up because they knew they'd get an ear full from me.

"How about now?" Calum questioned, turning his head over his shoulder to glance at me.

"Perfect!" I grinned approvingly and giving him a thumbs up. He and Ashton both sighed with relief, finally able to rest their tense arm muscles.

As the boys scaled down the ladders, they joined me from the other end of the living area to observe their work. The banner hung symmetrically in a scalloped pattern beneath the large arch that separated the main living room and the kitchen area. In addition to the sign, we had balloons-- 7 out of 20 already popped because Calum and Ashton couldn't stop playing around. We also had streamers and of course, a huge Happy Feet themed cake. That actually came from my mom's own mind not mine.

"Not too shabby," Ashton nodded approvingly. "I think Luke is really going to love this."

"I think we all are," Calum corrected, "this house smells like heaven and I can't wait to get into that Turkey your mum's been cooking all day."

"I bet Luke is going to be so excited to eat actual food. I think he actually lost some weight," Ashton mentioned, "he's not too keen on the hospital food."

"Of course!" Calum agreed. "I tried the pudding-- it tastes like feet."

I scrunched my face in absolute horror, "ew, when did you try feet?"

"Never, but the pungency of that pudding was..." Calum never finished his sentence, as he simply shuddered in reminiscent of this so-called feet tasting pudding.

"Moving on," I started, swaying the subject, "do you know if Michael is coming over later?"

I missed him.

And it was more than just a lot; it was the kind of missing that actually hurts. When your stomach aches and your heart keeps twisting. When there's a 30 ton weight on your shoulders that won't disappear and crying to sleep becomes the norm.

Michael was my first real friend; my truest companion and I couldn't throw away almost ten years of friendship over some out-of-context, eavesdropped conversation. I loved and still do love the lilac-haired boy and my mind refused to believe that he had anything to do with Luke and the mystery texts. I wanted to talk to Michael, but I rarely saw him for the last two weeks. He was acting strange, even for him, and I just wanted the old Michael back.