There was an awkward silence between Charlotte and Michael as they sat next to each other after class had ended. Michael was once again bouncing his leg as impatiently as ever while they waited for Henry to pick them up. Junior year and neither of them had a car. It was almost embarrassing. Of course, Michael already had his license, he just didn’t have a car, and Charlie was still learning because she had put it off assuming Michael would’ve gotten a car sooner. Really, what else did either of them expect?
Charlie couldn’t help but notice Michael looked more of a nervous wreck than usual, which was a feat in itself considering he almost always looked like he was about to cry. Well, really he always looked beyond pissed but it didn’t take very long around Michael to notice that it was all a front to look tougher than he was and he was always on edge. On edge about what? That was an answer Charlie didn’t know despite knowing the other all her life, but he was definitely on edge.
“You know, literally no one notices my dad picks us up,” she teased, hoping that would calm his nerves, though that just made Michael furrow his brow further, his face screwing into a confused expression before an incredulous chuckle escape from between his teeth.
“Yeah, I know,” he sighed, rolling his eyes as he tried to lean back and look calmer. He wasn’t good at faking his emotions, and he definitely wasn’t good at self soothing. Charlie just shook her head and rested her hand on his shoulder, watching with a concerned eye as he winced away from the small display of affection.
“Did you hurt your arm?”
Michael looked away from the girl with the expression of a guilty dog, as if that was exactly what he didn’t want to hear but he let out a disappointed sigh.
“No. I didn’t- I didn’t hurt my arm.”
“You sure? You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird.” Michael’s voice was getting strained trying to keep a calm demeanor, a stressed smile on his face before he sighed, leaning back once more.
“I’m not. Acting weird. Today’s just one of those… days.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a sigh, looking down the road for Henry’s old beater of a Ford, a truck which only managed to hold all three of them if Charlie was halfway on his lap which he, if he was being honest, enjoyed more than he wanted her to know.
“Is it because it’s Valentine’s Day?” Charlie teased now that she managed to get something out of Michael despite his pouting. “Are you upset no one asked to be your Valentine, Michael?”
“No, I’m not- It’s not about all of that, alright?” It was absolutely about all that.
Charlie could barely hide the smirking grin that spread on her face at his not-a-confession confession of what got him so down. She calmly crossed her legs, sliding the backpack she had on off her shoulders and placing it neatly on her lap, leaning forward to study Michael’s face.
“Well, who was it?”
“Who was what?” She held back a giggle at Michael’s almost disgusted expression at her question.
“The lucky lady you were hoping would take the plunge, obviously.”
“There’s no lady.”
“A guy?” A playfully scandalized tone had Michael groaning.
“No. I’m not a fucking-”
“I know, I know,” she brushed him off, waving her hand to shut him up before laughing. It was clear her teasing was getting to Michael as his face slowly turned pink, hiding the bottom half of his face with a hand, his jaw clenched as he closed his eyes.
“Aw- Mikey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Charlie murmured to him, Michael’s heart skipping a beat at the playful nickname that he knew meant nothing. She heard a muffled statement from behind his hand that caused her to tilt her head in confusion.
“What did you say?” It didn’t take long for Michael to rip his hand from his mouth, an expression Charlie could only describe as embarrassed rage clear on his features.
“It was you, okay? I was hoping you’d say it, I got you this and everything,” he huffed, throwing a hand into his half-opened book bag and retrieving a small plush lion with a heart stitched into his chest. A simple but rather endearing gift.
The silence once again enveloped the two as Charlie stared at her friend, mouth slightly agape while Michael slowly felt his rage falter into pure guilt for having expected something like this to begin with. He gulped as he felt the tension grab his neck and slowly strangle him, shoving the lion back into the bag and going to stand up before feeling Charlie grab onto his arm.
“Hey, I liked it,” she barely managed to squeak out, a notably flustered expression on her face as she realized what Michael was trying to say.
“You liked it?” The disbelief was clear in his voice, an eyebrow cocked as he stood there, halfway standing to just walk home at that point.
“Well, yeah, it’s a gift from you,” she laughed, “and I… like you.” The blush that had made its home on Michael’s face was shared between them, his eyes flickering about her face looking for some sort of sign she was telling a joke. A cruel joke, but one nonetheless.
“You like me?” He pointed at himself, looking even more confused. If there was anything he was expecting, it wasn’t for his best friend to admit she liked him back. “You mean it?”
“Why would I say it if I didn’t?”
The words rang true and it only made Michael more confused about the situation. Definitely not the most conventional way he could’ve confessed his feelings but it gave him butterflies all the same. He took a breath before grabbing the lion out of his bag once again and shoving it into Charlie’s hand, looking away with a pout.
“Don’t let your dad know I gave you that,” he sighed, “he barely likes me as is.”
Charlie’s giggle was sweeter than any treat he’d had in his life at that as she turned the small stuffed toy around in her hands, admiring how soft it was.
“Yeah, I know.”
There was a beat before Charlie spoke again, a gentle smile on her lips.
“So, are we like… A thing now?”
“D-Do you wanna be a thing?”
“I’d love to be a thing.” She leaned a bit closer than Michael knew how to handle, a breathy laugh escaping him.
“Then- Then yeah. I think, I mean, we, uh, we’re a thing, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It felt almost like a movie with how Henry pulled up right then, Michael watching in almost slow motion as Charlie put the lion in her hoodie pocket and stood up, gesturing for Michael to get up and into the truck. He couldn’t help his nervous movements as he scrambled to his feet, noticing Henry’s watchful, if not almost judgmental gaze, but he was too high on the adrenaline of a confession to care. He managed to tell Charlie how we felt, at least marginally, and that was all he needed to feel like a thousand bucks for the next month.