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tighter, I answer my own question. 

He wouldn't.

Amia

 

For the next couple months after spring break, nothing can bring me down. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his arm across my waist, his breath on the back of my neck. I hear his voice, telling me that he loves me. 

I don't see Mikey very often in that time. He stays pretty busy, between school, the radio, and his visits with Father Steve. They become close, and I try not to get jealous. Still, I can't help but think sometimes that every hour he spends over there is an hour that he's choosing not to spend with me. I don't say this to him, though, because I know that that's not how he thinks of it. Besides, just because he told me he loves me doesn't mean that he has to spend every second of every day with me. 

I see that being with the priest makes him happy, and that makes me happy. I don't like seeing him all depressed. I just wish that I could give him that happiness, that he didn't have to run off to the church all the time. Despite all that, I still catch myself smiling about him all the time. The rare times that we are together, he’s less distracted, so when he’s with me I get all of his attention.

As the end of the school year nears, my time with Mikey becomes even more precious. I don't know where he'll be next year, or even in six months. I can feel my time with Mikey coming to an end, and it honestly scares me. If he goes off to college, he won't be on the radio anymore. Will I even want to listen? Will I even be able to hear it? And he won't be around to talk to me, so I won't be able to hear his voice.  

After these last several months, I couldn't imagine going back to complete silence all the time. It wouldn't be fair. I’m not ready for it.

 I try not to think about these things, but sometimes I can't help it.

 

The week before graduation, Mikey and I don’t spend a whole lot of time together. I spend a lot of time studying for finals, but Mikey doesn’t have any more studying to do. The seniors take their finals early, and he has graduation practice next week while I take my finals. Which means that I won’t see him in the halls anymore.

By that Friday, though, he’s done with his tests. He comes over that night, and I take a break from studying. We go up into my room and sit on my floor, with our backs against the side of the bed. We face the open door, but no one’s home. We start talking about what we’ve been up to this last week, since I haven’t even been calling to talk to him on the radio. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Father Steve,” he says. “We even went out to dinner last night, nothing fancy, but just to talk. He’s been helping me a lot.”

“Yeah, you seem to really enjoy him,” I say, rolling my eyes.

He leans away from me, frowning. “Amia, are you jealous of the time that I’ve been spending with Father?”

Maybe it’s the worries about what’s going to happen in the next few weeks, and maybe it’s just me being tired from school and studying. For some reason, it seems like a very stupid question. “Well wouldn’t you be jealous if I was choosing to spend all my time with someone else besides you?”

He shakes his head, and he moves his hands from his lap onto the floor. “You can not be serious. What do you want me to do? Sit around here, depressed, while you study for tests when I’ve already taken mine? I’m not supposed to go see the guy who helps me think through things and feel better about the mess that my life has become, all because you’re jealous? He’s not some girl that I’m dating behind your back. He’s a priest.”

His voice isn’t loud, but I can tell he’s trying to hold back his anger. Still, for some reason, I just can’t let it go. “Why won’t you let me help you? Why can’t you tell me the stuff that you tell him, instead of running off all the time? We’re in a relationship. I love you, Mikey, I want to help you. Why won’t you let me?”

He quickly stands up and looks down at me. “Because you don’t help!” he yells. Then, quieter, calmer, he continues, “When I talk to you, you just tell me to get over it. You don’t acknowledge how big of a deal this is to me. And that doesn’t help me at all.” He starts walking out, and I get up and follow him.

“Mikey, wait!” He turns around to face me at the front door, and his face is red. He’s clenching his fists, gritting his teeth.

“No, Amia. This isn’t about you. This is about me. And I’m just doing what I need to do in order to get better. And having you get all angry and jealous for absolutely no good reason is not going to make me get better. I love you, Amia, I really do. And I wish that talking to you about everything made me feel better. But it doesn’t. Goodnight, Amia.”

He turns and walks out the door, slamming it behind him. I feel it in the floor, and I cover my face with my hands. Why did I have to say anything?

 

As I get ready for bed, I think about how much of a gift Mikey has been. He has made me so happy, and brought me closer to God. I still don't rely on God as much as Mikey does, but I've come a long way in the past eight or nine months. And I owe it all to him. So why do I have to go and ruin things?

I lay in bed for a few minutes, trying to get to sleep. But my thoughts keep me from even feeling tired. They all involve Mikey, which makes me roll my eyes. It’s like he’s the only thing I even care about in my life. It's times like this that I wish I had a girlfriend, someone who I could talk to and gush with about Mikey. 

A few minutes later, I get out of bed and go across the hall to Lisa's room. I knock softly as I push the door open. "Lisa?" 

She's sitting on her bed reading a book. She looks up at me and smiles. "Hey, sis," she says. "What's up?"

I step into her room, push the door shut behind me. "I just can't sleep, and need someone to talk to." As I walk to the foot of her bed, she looks concerned. "It's nothing bad," I say. "Actually, it's all good. I just have all these thoughts and emotions built up that I have no one to talk to about."

"Oooh, boy talk?” She asks, and I nod. “Hit me, girl!" 

I laugh, then sit criss-cross on her bed. "I just... I don't know," I say, smiling. "I guess now that I have someone to talk to, I don't really know what I want to say." 

She smiles at me. "Well, let's see. We can talk about... Oh! Tell me about your first kiss. I don't think I've heard that story yet."

I nod. "Well, it's not really much of a story, but I guess I'll tell you." Now that I think about it, this is kind of weird. As I tell her, I feel myself blush. "We were just at his cousin's New Year's Eve party, and we were outside, and it started to snow, and we... kissed?" 

She laughs. "Wow, you're really not good at this, are you?" I shake my head. I've always been one to kind of hide my affection when we're in public, and talking about it feels strange. But also... like it could be fun. "You have to tell it differently. You have to say... 'As he grabbed me in his arms, the world around me seemed to disappear. I could vaguely hear the people around me counting down to the new year. His eyes locked onto mine, and I couldn't look away. As his lips touched mine, the icy flakes cooled down our hot embrace.' Wasn't that much more interesting?"

I'm cracking up, shaking my head. "Maybe more interesting, Lisa," I say, "but it wasn't like that. It wasn't like that at all." 

She's laughing too. "Well then tell me how it really was.”

I nod. "Okay, okay. Well, first of all, I didn't hear anyone counting down. I didn't hear anything. Because, you know." 

She laughs. "Yeah, sorry." 

"But..." I hesitate. Up until now, I haven't told her or my mom that I can hear Mikey. "You have to promise that you won't say anything to Mom, because she'll make a huge deal out of it. And it'll start more stuff and more doctor's visits and it'll just be miserable. So don't tell her."

She nods and looks slightly concerned, but also excited. "I won't tell her. I promise. Just tell me!"

"Well... I can hear him. When he talks. Not just on the radio. It started out really slowly, and I couldn't hear everything that he said. But we were just out on the porch, and then I saw him mouth the numbers. And then, he just... he just kissed me. And it was just... it was warm. And then it started snowing, so I pushed him aside and caught some snowflakes on my tongue." This makes her laugh. "And then he grabbed me and hugged me and said 'Happy New Year, Amia.'" 

"Aw," she says, smiling. "That’s so sweet.” She stops smiling and looks serious. "Now let's talk about the important part of that," she says. "You can hear him? Even when he's not on the radio?" I nod. "Oh my gosh! Amia! Why didn't you tell me? That is so cool! God has big plans for you two!" 

"I can hear everything he says now. It started out as just like... a sound here or there, and then words, and then sentences, and now I can hear it all. And it's such a relief!"

We talk for a couple more hours. Once I get started, it just keeps coming. I tell her about some of the conversations we have, about the way he makes me feel. I talk about how awesome it is to have faith in God again, and how Mikey inspires me to draw closer to Him. I also talk about how I'm still a little worried about him. But mostly, I tell her about how great it is to feel loved, and to have someone who I can love.

After a while, my mom comes in. "You girls need to get to sleep," she says. "You can continue this gab fest tomorrow." She has a smile on her face, and I know she's glad that we're having this talk. It's been a while since Lisa and I have really talked for more than a few minutes.

As I get up to go back to my room, Lisa grabs my hand. "I'm

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