Roses & Bullets

XVI. Mikey

CLAIRE

"Sorry about that," I tell Mikey, embarrassed that Erik didn't even shake his hand.

"What's his deal?" he asks as he makes his way to the kitchen. I follow him, and we both take our seats.

"He's a little..." I hesitate, not sure how I should describe Erik. When I can't come up with the right word, I just say, "shy."

"He doesn't look shy to me," Mikey disagrees. "I think he's a douche.

"Mikey, you don't even know the guy, okay?" I playfully punch him on the shoulder.

"And you do?" he asks, his head c****d to one side.

"No, I don't. So, it's not right for me to judge him."

"Whatever you say. Hey, do you have any food? I'm starving."

I roll my eyes but get up anyway to prepare something for him. There are still some pancakes left and sausages, so I put those on a plate and serve them to him. There's no more coffee, so I have no other choice but to give him some orange juice. Mikey seems to enjoy his breakfast, though.

I watch him as he eats, and I can't help but smile. We've been friends since we were little kids, and even though he's two years older than me, we've been inseparable ever since. When I look at him, I see that nothing much has changed.

Except for his physical appearance, of course. Mikey is six feet tall, with undercut blonde hair and a toned body. His hazel eyes are his asset, and just above his right eyebrow, there is a small scar which he got from falling from a monkey bar when we were little.

Mikey is already a part of our family. We've been through so much together that I'm not sure how I could've survived my ordeals without him by my side. He has always been there for me, especially during the darkest moment of my life, when my mother died.

"Do you have any maple syrup?" Mikey asks me, his mouth stuffed with pancakes.

"Here you go." I chuckle as I give it to him. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

Mikey laughs heartily. I wonder how the food in his mouth is not spraying everywhere, and then I laugh with him. It feels so good to laugh.

"How's your dad, by the way?"

"He's doing okay," I reply. "He likes to walk alone outside the hostel, though. He doesn't want me coming with him."

"I can accompany him if you like," Mikey says, stabbing the last piece of the pancake before gobbling it. "Just let me know when."

"Thanks, Mikey," I say, reaching out for his hand. "But he doesn't like that either. I think he wants to prove that he can still do things on his own, you know?"

"I understand." Mikey's plate is so clean that I can't even see a single crumb on it. He's now starting to drink his orange juice.

"It's hard, Mikey. Running the hostel, taking care of dad and Corey, all the while, I dream of becoming a writer." I pause and look out the window, where I see a lone robin hopping on the lawn. "I just don't think I have any chance here."

My eyes get misty, and I hate it. I feel guilty whenever I think of leaving this place, especially during the time when my father needs me the most. I let out a shaky breath, and Mikey squeezes my hand.

"Hey, you're not alone, okay?" he assures me. "You can call me anytime."

I believe Mikey. He's told me that several times. But I can't just rely on him.

Our conversation is interrupted when Erik returns, his hand a bloody mess. He quickly turns away and goes to his room, and now I feel uneasy. What the hell happened to him?

"Did he get into a fight?" Mikey asks me when Erik is gone.

"I'm not sure. I should check up on him?"

"Are you kidding me?" Mikey clearly hates the idea of it. "The guy looks dangerous."

"You're overreacting, Mikey," I say, trying to look unbothered. "He's still a guest here, so he's my responsibility."

"I can't believe this," Mikey scoffs and stands. "Then I'll go with you."

"What? No, you're not. You might agitate him."

"So he's unstable? All the more reason why I need to come with you."

Typical Mikey. He's so overprotective. No wonder people think that he's my boyfriend.

"I didn't say that," I reply as I glance at the stairs, worried that Erik might hear us. "Will you keep it down?"

"I don't care if he hears us, Claire. He smells of trouble.

I sigh. "Mikey, I'm just going to see if he's still alive or if he's already bleeding to death."

Mikey rolls his eyes and raises his hands in surrender. "You are so stubborn, Claire."

"I know."

"Fine. If anything happens, scream."

"I will." I smile, and he hugs me tightly.

"All right. I'll go ahead. And thanks for breakfast."

"No problem."

Mikey leaves reluctantly, and that's when I take the first aid kit from my room before heading upstairs. I knock three times on the door, and Erik answers it immediately as if he's expecting somebody.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I think of what to say to him.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"I think I should be the one helping you," I reply, eyeing his hand. "Can I see that?"

"No, thank you," he answers curtly.

"That might get infected. Just let me see it briefly, and I promise to leave you alone."

He looks at me with unreadable eyes, but eventually, he lets me in. I sit on the edge of his bed, and I tap the space beside me, letting him know where to sit. Erik unhappily obliges.

As Erik sits with me, his eyes look gray when hit by sunlight. He's got an ivy league haircut, which I'm pretty sure used to be a crew cut. I only realize that I've been staring at him when he calls my name.

"Earth to Claire."

I blink. God, that was embarrassing. I gently reach out for his injured hand, and he doesn't protest.

I unwrap the gauze to check the cut, which isn't that deep. I check what ointment he put on it, and glad that he used an antibacterial one. When I'm satisfied that there's nothing wrong with it, I rewrap it with new gauze before putting a surgical tape to keep it in place.

"Seems like you did everything right," I remark.

"Former Navy SEAL, remember? And besides, you don't need medical training for a simple cut like this," he says, slightly raising his hand.

"Right. I forgot."

I don't want to keep him from doing anything he's supposed to do, so I quickly pack away the first aid kit as I prepare to leave. But deep inside, I want to stay.

"Why is this place called 'Hostel Corazon?'" he asks out of the blue.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's not even a hostel," he answers. "Aren't hostels supposed to have bunk beds like those in a dormitory? You know, the kind of place where students stay?"

I chuckle. "My dad originally built this for young travelers, like students. Unfortunately, they rarely had any student visitors, so over the years, he and my mom renovated it and turned it into a motel or a cabin of some sort, only it's not in a remote area."

"I see."

"That was before I was even born," I add. "They just didn't change the name, and until now, I don't understand why."

"Ah."

I don't think he's really interested. I'm about to stand up when Erik asks about Mikey. That is something I didn't expect.

"Is Mikey your boyfriend?"

"What? No, he's my best friend," I reply without hiding the surprise in my voice.

"Really?" he asks sarcastically. "Does he know that?"

"Know what?"

"That you two are just friends?"

"Of course," I answer annoyingly. "He's my childhood friend."

Erik only nods before rising, and that's when I stand too. He heads to the door and opens it for me.

"Thanks for your help, Claire."

I take the first aid kit with me as I leave. "If you need any painkillers, just tell me." I don't wait for his reply and quickly head downstairs.

I go back inside my room, where I replay our conversation in my head. I shouldn't get ahead of myself. He's probably just curious.

Or is he?