"She had spent her life being the one who left before she could be left. Then he came for her, and she forgot how to walk away." ~ Unknown
Michael returned to his room and closed the door behind him. The noise faded to a distant murmur. He stood in the quiet for a long moment, then moved toward the bathroom, letting the hot water wash away the lingering chill of the pool.
When he came out, he pulled on a pair of blue sweatpants and a black vest, his hair still damp, curling slightly at the ends.
His guitar leaned against the wall by the window. He paused, looking at it.
He had brought it hoping for a quiet evening, a few songs played under the stars, maybe even someone singing along if the mood was right.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly. Selina stepped inside, her movements hesitant.
Michael turned to face her, his expression calm.
"Michael," she said, her voice quieter. "I-I wanted to talk to you."
"Okay."
The coolness in his voice made her flinch, but she pressed on. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I was just, I was in a bad mood. Something happened with my family, and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have- "
"A bad mood." Michael's voice was flat. "You were in a bad mood."
Selina stopped.
"If you're hurting," he continued, "do you want to make everyone around you hurt too? Is that how it works?"
"No. I just- "
"Selina, I've seen people like you." His arms tightened across his chest, a barrier she had put there herself. "My younger brother is like that. People like you push away the ones who matter. I don't know if I matter to you or not."
She stood silent, her eyes fixed on the floor. He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders, the way her fingers twisted together. He turned away, picking up a few things, busying his hands.
"Anyway," he said, "you don't need to worry about me. If you think I befriended you for personal reasons, there's nothing I can do about that." He slid a small toiletry bag into his suitcase. "But it does feel bad to be judged like that."
"I don't think that." Her voice was urgent now. "I know you didn't approach me for anything. You don't need to. I was wrong. Please, don't leave like this. It would… it would make me really sad."
Michael stopped. He turned and looked at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face open in a way he had never seen before. She was just standing in his room, asking him to stay.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. "What if I stay and you do this again?"
Selina opened her mouth, but he held up a hand.
"I've been through this with my brother. He's family. I can't break that. But you- " He met her eyes. "You're just a friend. What happens the next time something goes wrong in your life? Do I just get pushed away again?"
Selina shook her head, but her voice faltered. "Then what do I do? I don't want to lose you like this. I don't want to part on bad terms."
"Then change." He said it simply, without accusation. "In high school, you were like this too. Years have passed."
Selina was silent for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was smaller than he had ever heard it. "Because… No one told me I was wrong."
"Everyone always gave in to me. They flatter me. They never told me I was pushing people away." She swallowed. "My friends never left. Maybe they stay because I'm important to them. Or maybe they stay because of my status." She looked up at him, her eyes bright with something that might have been shame.
"But you're different. You don't need status. You don't chase people."
He held her gaze, saying nothing.
"I felt close to you," she continued, the words tumbling out now. "From the train, from the games, from everything. And I think I'll really regret letting you go. So instead of leaving me like this…" She took a breath. "Why don't you teach me?"
Michael's composure cracked, just a fraction. "Teach you what?"
"To be better." Her voice broke on the word. "No one ever did. Change me into someone I can be proud of. Please." She stepped closer, her hand reaching out, then stopping before it touched him. "Stay. Stay and be my friend."
The room was very quiet. Michael looked at her, at the tears she was trying to hold back, at the hand that had almost reached for him.
He didn't answer right away. He let the silence stretch. Then he reached out and picked up his guitar case, setting it aside.
"I'll stay," he said.
Selina blinked. "Why?" She thought he would reject her.
He met her eyes. "Because you wanted me to stay."
She didn't understand at first. Then she did. He hadn't needed her to promise to change. He had needed her to show that she wanted him to stay.
He stood. "I'm not going to fix you, Selina."
"But I'll be here." He picked up a towel and dried the ends of his hair. "As long as you don't push me away again."
She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "I won't."
He looked at her and something in his expression softened.
"You're going to have to tell me when you're hurting. Before you take it out on someone."
She nodded, a small, fragile movement. "I will."
The tension in the room eased. Selina's shoulders dropped; her hands unclenched. She looked around, suddenly aware of where she was, of the tears she hadn't quite managed to hide.
"I should go," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the door.
She moved toward the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. "Michael?"
"Yeah?"
"The pancakes were really good."
He did smile then, just a small one, but it reached his eyes. "I know."
She laughed and slipped out the door.
Michael stood in the quiet for a moment. Then he unzipped his suitcase and began pulling out the things he had just packed.