Micah was on edge.
In fact, for an entire week, Micah had been on edge. Micah was beginning to think he didn’t know what it felt like to be off the edge. He was starting to feel like he’d absorbed every ounce of Bradley’s awkwardness and swallowed the other man whole – a metaphor probably best kept inside considering what most people thought the nature of their friendship was. The point was, he felt batshit insane with anxiety and about 77% sure that he’d never be calm ever again. Admittedly, 77 seemed like a pretty rogue number, but Joey had once told him that 1977 had been a pretty significant year for the increase in interest surrounding hauntings – thank you Amityville and Enfield Hauntings, am I right? – so 77 felt like a good, solid number for what he was feeling right now.
Look, Micah really fucking hated honesty hour. And similar games like truth or dare and other shitty activities that involved spilling your guts and sharing your deepest, darkest secrets against your will in some weird, outdated societal obsession with poking your damn nose in other people’s business when it wasn’t needed or wanted there. He thought the whole thing was stupid as hell and only really existed to humiliate people in a moment of vulnerability. Was Eddie completely correct in surmising that he was totally butthurt and projecting his hurt feelings over Joey’s words onto literally everyone else around him? Actually, yeah, probably.
Things had been awkward since Joey had confirmed that she’d never feel anything other than plain old platonic friendship for him, but neither one of them seemed particularly eager to say it out loud and hash it out. A part of Micah had wanted to cling onto some semblance of his dignity, as well as the slightest bit of hope that he’d maybe misread the situation. After all, she had said that he’d never see her that way. Maybe Joey had been harbouring the same crush on him as he had been for her across all these years? Maybe she was just as terrified of rejection as he was and had been projecting in all the ways that Eddie thought he was.
It was unlikely, but he had all of ten minutes to be delusional before Joey got home from her afternoon with Chess and Hazel. The minute she stepped through that door, he knew she’d be all forced smiles and anecdotal tales from her afternoon with the girls, once again avoiding the elephant in the room.
After pacing their living room for the duration of those ten minutes, Micah scrambled to the sofa the second he heard her key turn in the lock. He fidgeted, readjusting his limbs every which way before settling on simply leaning against the arm of the sofa, pretending to watch whatever showed up on the tv when he turned it on. He groaned inwardly. American Pie, seriously? God, he hated that damn movie.
“Hey, peanut,” Micah addressed her, trying to inject an air of casual surprise into his tone as he turned to face her. Joey had always been able to see through him, but he hoped now more than ever that she couldn’t quite tell just how desperately he wanted to claw his own face off. “You have a good day with the girls?”