michael.
Today was one crazy day.
I fell asleep early and woke up around 8 AM. A pity; I was hoping to have some time alone, and the only me-time I have is the night. I don't remember any dreams, though. Maybe I was too exhausted.
Aniko surprised me with the next drawing. He said he drew me, but even though the art looks very badass, it doesn't look like me. He wasn't upset about my comment, though, and I appreciate him for that. I can be honest without the need to tiptoe around the eggshells.
I am very surprised by the tempo of his artistic growth. It appears that his learning pace is significantly faster than ours. What a blessing, honestly. I wish I had the same mental capacity, but, alas, I am limited by the averageness of my species.
Now, about Mic… Where do I start? Okay, he ran away from home. He sneaked into his dad's cabinet and managed to send me a message from his phone. He didn't take it, though, because he could be easily tracked down through it. A smart move.
We met at the park and then spent the whole day walking, talking, and playing CDS at the local club. Mic probably stole some of the money, because he paid for the rather long gaming session for both of us. We were lucky enough to play our favorite roles too!
But in the evening he understood that getting back home means trouble, and he doesn't know where he can spend the night safely. I invited him for a sleepover. My parents do not care as long as they don't see him sneak in. They never enter my room when I say I am going to study and I need to focus. This is the only way to make them respect my privacy, so thanks for that.
As for Michael's parents: my house is the last place on Earth they will check, because for them we are rivals and sworn enemies and whatever else. So in the end it's a win-win.
We bought some snacks on the way home, and we have many plans for tonight! Funnily enough, we never had a chance to spend time together as friends do. Adults always kill the fun for themselves and the others. Imagine hating someone because of the stupid test. And they call us edgy.
Anyways, I am guarding the bathroom door just in case; Mic is almost done with taking a shower. Both of my parents are downstairs, and my stepfather tells yet another corny story from his work. Mom will surely say she has seen something similar in one of many trashy sitcoms she's watching every day.
…I don't even know why I keep saying "parents." My father is dead. And the person downstairs is a total douchebag.
Okay, Mic is done. See you later.