Fluttering Feeling

Micah and I end up spending almost the whole summer together. Wandering through the woods, him with his little leather-bound notebook full of stories, and me with my pencils and sketchbook. We could spend the whole day out there, hand in hand, taking in every inch of our little patch of green. Eventually you run out of places to explore. We walked every trail, climbed every log, and took in every sight the woods offered us. When my dad saw how bored Micah and I were getting, confined to our woodland territory, he brought home one of those bikes with the luggage carriers on the back. Suddenly the world was open to us, two kids making their suburban home their own.

Micah and I decided to meet at the edge of the woods, where our two neighborhoods connect. He showed up wearing a sweatshirt two sizes too big for him, even though it was ninety degrees out. He always wears stuff like that, a little twig of a kid drowning in heavy fabric. "You ready to go Micah?" He nods quietly, which is a little unusual for him. "Is everything okay? You're acting weird. Where's the excitement? Come on Micah, show some energy bud!" I give him a lighthearted slap on the back, like my dad does whenever I seem down.

"I can't...." He mumbles under his breath. "You can't what Micah?" He shifts nervously under my gaze. "I can't ride a bike. No one ever taught me." I have never seen him so embarrassed before. His face bright red, his eyes desperately avoiding mine. I hop on the bike and pat the luggage carrier. "Get on! I'll handle the bike. You don't have to worry about a thing!" Gingerly, he climbs onto the back of the bike, and as soon as I'm satisfied he's stable I push hard into the pedals. A small amount of dirt and dust kicks up behind the wheel, and Micah frantically grabs for my waist. "Grab tight Micah! I'm not responsible if you fall!" His arm tightens around me, and I take us away toward downtown.

Downtown has always been a point of fascination for me. Sometimes when I was younger the schools would take us down there for field trips. They'd walk us around the city center, and show us the big university buildings that dominate the area. This visit was different. This time the city was mine. It was Micah's. Both of us together making the streets ours! Or something like that, I don't know I think I heard that line on TV. As we cross the bridge to Broadway Street, I can feel Micah finally getting comfortable behind me. His grip is loosening, and his head is gently resting on my back. I don't know if Micah and I have ever been this physically close before. Yeah I've pulled him along by the hand as we've explored the woods, but there's something weird about this. I can feel a gentle thump in my chest, like my heart is pushing its way out. I pedal harder, trying to drown out the feeling.

We pull up in front of the local arcade, and my heart is still beating against my chest. I'm sure I look ridiculous, my little hand pressed against my chest, struggling to calm my breathing. Micah on the other hand looks positively refreshed as he hops off the luggage carrier. Hard to believe he was so intimidated by the prospect of a bike ride before we left.

"Amelie, are you ready to go in? I haven't ever been here before! Is it always this loud?" I can't say anything to him, I can only nod as he takes my hand and we head into the arcade.

Danny's Funcade is a local fixture. The owner has been in business since the eighties and his arcade has always been a hotspot for local kids. Some of the adults I know say it used to be almost all pinball when it opened, but pinball doesn't sell as well as it used to, so he added a lot of fancy light gun games and stuff. I don't care about the shooting games or the DDR machines, I come here for one reason: Hitting the high score on my favorite tables. I got really close one time, I'm pretty sure if I had just hit the jackpot one more time I would have had third place. I've been chasing that spot ever since. Micah's mom doesn't like the idea of arcades. She thinks they're too distracting. She always claims that the boys who went to the arcade all the time when she was younger were weird and never did well in school. My mom on the other hand was VERY into arcades. She and her mom would go to the one in her old hometown and play Pac-Man and Galaga and stuff for hours when they had spare money. This is the first time I've been here without my mom, actually. It's kind of liberating if I'm being honest.

I sidle up to my favorite table. Medieval Madness. Now I may just be a thirteen year old but in my esteemed opinion this is the greatest pinball table ever made. It's also my white whale. That coveted number one high score is always just out of my reach. I slide two dollars of quarters into the machine, and I get myself ready to play. I lean over to press the play button when I see Micah staring intently. His green eyes boring holes into the side of my head. It's making me a little nervous. I've had people watch me before but not with this sort of intensity. I take a deep breath and start playing, hoping my nerves will calm down a bit. I launch the ball, ready to show off my frankly prodigious skills and... Drain. I laugh awkwardly and glance over at Micah, the intensity in his eyes hasn't faded at all. "Heh, just uh... Getting warmed up! I'm like a pro at this, you'll see!" Next ball up, this time I've got it. I play for a minute or so, but I can't get my rhythm. I just feel Micah next to me, his gaze unbroken, like lasers on my skin. Drained again. Damn, I'm not even going to get a free play out of this one at this rate. Another deep breath. I can do this, I've done it before.

I can't do this. Micah won't take his eyes off of me the whole time I'm playing, and it makes it impossible to focus. God, I bragged so much about how good I was at pinball and now I'm making a total fool of myself. I lost every game without even scratching the high scores once! I turn to Micah and put on my biggest fake smile. "Alright! That's enough pinball for me! Why don't you pick the next game?" His face lights up as he grabs my hand and leads me around the arcade. He flits from game to game, stopping to play a quick round before we bound off to the next cabinet. God you'd think he never got out of the house the way he's acting. But I'm happy he's so excited. He's normally so subdued, just following me wherever I lead him.

We leave the arcade a few hours later. I'm weirdly exhausted. I like to think I'm pretty high energy, but I couldn't keep up with Micah today. I've never seen him so full of life. I unlock the bike and we start riding home. Micah is quiet again as we ride in the light of the setting sun. Is he as tired as I am? I just don't know what's going on in his head today. Did today feel weird for him too? My head is buzzing still, the look on his face won't leave. I don't really understand what that feeling in my chest was earlier.

The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon when we reach Micah's house. The porch light is on, and his mom is waiting for him just inside the door. I don't really understand why she needs to be waiting for him right when he gets home, but mom says all families are different. Micah steps down from the bike, all his energy from earlier gone. He looks like he usually does, his chin tucked into his chest, making himself so small. He grabs my sleeve and finally looks me in the eye. His face is bright red. "Thank you Amelie... Today was really nice." He turns away and dashes inside before I can respond.

My chest still feels weird as I walk home. I can barely focus during dinner, my parents words just sort of float past my ears. What was up with Micah? Why was his face so red when he went inside? I end up staring at the ceiling when I finally lay down to sleep, my heart still pushing strangely against my chest. I wonder what he's thinking right now. Maybe he's as confused as I am. I drift off to sleep, my last thought is of him laying his head on my back as we rode through the streets.