#bosemika

Her dad even found her journals hidden beneath her floorboards. Three of them now, containing the complete story of ShoutOut. Every mistake is recorded there, telling her how to be better. Every lesson she learned is there; how to throw a punch and land a roundhouse kick. She made a guide on how to best patch herself if something goes sideways. A profile on all the weapons ranked according to her confidence with them. She’s recorded every villain she fought thus far and their known weak spots. Her entire superhero career is in those books.

If they don’t want her in Danger Force now, they really won’t when they read those.

That was half an hour ago. She lies flat on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. With all connections to ShoutOut gone, the colours on her once-vibrant walls feel faded and washed. The four walls that once denoted her safe space now feel like barbed wire around a fence. What’s more, she feels empty, incomplete. As if her dad took a limb or an organ when he left along with her things.

She clenches her jaw and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. If she presses hard enough, maybe she’ll wake up, and this was all a bizarre dream. It’s what she used to do when she was really little and wanted something to stop. It never worked, obviously, and she should be too old for silly tricks like that. But the other option is allowing it to be real. So she pushes until colours explode behind her eyelids and until her head hurts, hoping that somehow there’s a way out of this.

A sharp tap on her window jerks her out of it. She sits up, blinking her vision back into focus. Her power unfurls at the back of her throat on instinct, building like a car engine. She crosses the short distance from her bed to the window and steadies her trembling hand as she grabs the curtain. She doesn’t think about how someone might have found her so quickly, only that she’ll scream them out of the freaking sky for trying her here.

She yanks back the curtain, ready to scream. But the face on the other side stops her in her tracks, and her powers fade like an abandoned campfire.

“Bose!”

Her parents thankfully haven’t thought to put lock her window (yet), so she hastily pulls the frame up and steps back. He pulls himself through like he’s done so many times, his landing only slightly unsteady. His bright eyes are tinged with red; his eyelashes are spiked with fresh tears. His chest heaves, his cheeks flushed, and she realises he must have run at least some of the distance from his house to here. His hoodie is tied around his waist, his hair wild and windswept around his shoulders, and she looks him up and down again because he’s really here.

“Hi,” he says casually, as if the rest of today didn't happen.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, only to decide it doesn’t matter. She launches at him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. His shirt is slightly damp, confirming her theory that he ran here, his heartbeat quick against her chest. He doesn’t hesitate in hugging her back, his arms tight around her waist. She buries her head in his shoulder, revelling in the safety his presence always brings her. She squeezes him as tight as she possibly can because he’s here, and he’s real, and he’s beside her.

There’s something beautiful in the way Bose O’Brien hugs; so open and honest that it brings sanity to her frenzied mind. She’s glad to see that’s not changed.

“I was worried I wasn’t going to see you again,” she confesses into his shoulder.

“Me too,” he replies. He tightens his hold on her until she’s pressed flat against him. Maybe if they hold each other tight enough, they can hold the pieces of Danger Force together between them.

Minutes pass before they finally break apart. She leads him over to her bed, and they sit down, her cross-legged, him with one leg tucked beneath the other. Their knees touch, their hands brushing together on the covers.

“How are you holding up?” he asks. “How’s Miles?”

“Miles is…” Her voice trails off into a heavy sigh. She wishes she could say that Miles is Miles, keeping calm, waiting for a solution to present himself. She doesn’t want to talk about the defeat she saw in her brother’s eyes, the slump of his shoulders, and the horror she felt, realising the perpetual optimism she secretly envies has finally been defeated. Telling him about the soft cries she heard on the other side of Miles’ door feels unfair to him too. So avoids Bose’s eyes and says, “He quoted the Constitution at our parents and said they were violating our inalienable rights to freedom of movement and association.”

Bose chuckles warmly, although Mika strongly suspects this is the first time he’s heard about the Constitution.

“Sounds like Miles,” he says softly. “But I’m guessing it didn’t work.” His lips press into a thin line, and he runs his hand through his hair as he looks at her, brown eyes wide and impossibly soft. “And… what about you?”

She bites her tongue. She could tell him she can’t remember ever feeling as bad as this. Her one purpose in life is gone, and she doesn’t know what she’s meant to do now. She misses him and Chapa. She feels like she let them down and that the blame for all of this sits like a rock on her chest, and she can’t breathe without thinking about it. About how her inadequacy has threatened to swallow her whole since the minute that tape came off her mouth.

She could tell him; part of her wants to, but she doesn’t. Because if she does, it’s all real, and she won’t stop once she starts. So she presses her nail into her palm, swallows the lump in her throat and gives him a simple, “I hate this”.

Bose nods and pulls her into another hug. His hand rubs up and down her back, and she deflates against him, her hands curling into his shirt. She might not have said anything, but the thing about her and Bose is that she doesn’t really need to. He knows her too well by now. It’s equal parts reassuring and terrifying.  

“What about you?” she asks. She lifts her head from his shoulder. “I mean… first off, how did you even get here? My parents turned our house into freaking Guantanamo Bay. I’d thought yours would do the same.”

“Oh, is Guantanamo Bay that video game Henry told us about?” he asks. “I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

“Honey…”

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. She rolls her eyes fondly. The smile on her face feels both good and alien. Stupid as it sounds, she was worried she wouldn’t smile again after tonight.

“My mom is pretty mad at me,” Bose tells her. He looks down at his hands, fingers pulling and picking at his nails. “I tried to explain everything to her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. It got… it got pretty bad. She said some stuff, and then I said some stuff that she really didn’t like.” His jaw clenches, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Then she sent me to my room.” His hand curls into a fist, his shoulders tensing. Anger doesn’t look right on his face. His face was made for giggles, smiles, and dimples and seeing him like this hurts her in ways she can’t explain.  “I snuck out through the side entrance, though. She doesn’t know about it.”

“I thought she found that entrance during that thing with the cat.”

“Other side entrance,” he says. “I didn’t even know about it until two weeks ago. It’s still good for sneaking in and out. Probably better than the other one. I’ve snuck out twice, and they didn’t even notice.” He lets out a heavy sigh, eyes closed for a second. Mika wonders what images are playing out in his mind. Going by the look on his face, they’re not good, and she grasps his hand. He gives her a grateful smile as she rubs her thumb across his knuckles, squeezing her hand back.

They sit silently for a few minutes, hands clasped and heads touching. Bose’s free hand curls and uncurls on his knee, his jaw clenching. Mika just tries not to let her self-pity drown her, but the look of absolute hopelessness on her best friend’s face doesn’t do much to stop her.

It shouldn’t be about her, yet she can’t look at him without feeling like she did this.

“She hasn’t told my stepdad yet,” he says weakly. “At least, she hadn’t when I left. I don’t even know how he’ll react.” He smiles bitterly, an expression so unlike Bose it almost makes her heart stop. “I don’t think he’ll be too happy to find out his favourite superhero was his dumb stepson.”

“Bose…” she whispers softly. Her hand travels to his shoulder, rubbing in circles against his shirt.

“She said she might call my real dad and tell him, though.” He shrugs, picking at the cotton on her bedsheets. “So I guess there’s that.”

“Oh honey,” she sighs. The nickname rolls off her tongue, as natural as his own. He sighs and lets his free hand slide over to hers. His fingers run over her knuckles, the feather-light touch a stunning contrast to his heaviness slumping his shoulders.

“Can I ask you something?” She blinks his response kind of unexpected given the circumstances.

“Uh, sure.” He slides off her bed and stands up, pulling at the hoodie around his waist. He bounces on the balls of his feet, radiating so much anxiety that Mika stands too, arms folded over her chest and her steps tentative towards him. “Everything okay?”

“Uh… yeah.” He wets his lips quickly, tossing the hoodie sleeve between his hands. “I just wanted to ask, um… when you told your mom we were kissing-”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. She didn’t know where that question was heading, but it wasn’t there. That moment honestly seems like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah?” She takes a deep breath and prepares herself to remind him that they weren’t really kissing.

“When you told her we were kissing, but it was a lie, obviously,” he continues. He laughs a little, trying to combat the nervousness that hums in the air like electricity. She nods slowly, and he runs his hand through his hair. She sees him wet his lips slightly. “But… what if we really had been kissing? What would you have done? Would-would that mean anything?”

The words take a bit to register with her. Partially because of how they’re worded, because it’s Bose, and words sometimes are different for him than they are for everyone else. But then she realises, and the next few seconds are dedicated to her absorbing their weight. All the while, Bose looks at her, his hands still fidgeting with that hoodie sleeve.

She’s an intelligent girl. It’s what people know her as. So she’s not in the business of lying to herself just to make her life easier. She won’t pretend she doesn’t know why her mind immediately jumped to kissing Bose. Or why her heart picks up whenever he brushes past her. Or why his smile often leaves her breathless and his embrace feels like home. Why he’s sometimes the first thing on her mind when she wakes up, and why she always sees his face when she listens to those stupid love songs.  

So yeah. She likes him. Yes, in that way.

But he doesn’t like her in that way. She knows that because she knows Bose, and because she saw him with Glerp. She watched him go on his thousand dates. She knows how he acts around girls he likes, and it’s not how he acts around her. She won’t kid herself into thinking he does. Because she’s smarter than that and because it hurts less this way.

She’s also smart enough to know how awkward it would become if he knew she liked him. And she cherishes this friendship more than anything in the world. So she paints on a gentle smile, straightens her spine, and meets his anxious gaze.

“Bunny,” she says softly. “It was just a lie to throw off my mom. It didn’t help in the long run, but… that’s all it was. Pretend.” She pats his shoulder and hopes her smile is enough to hide the pain. “Don’t worry, we’re not actually going to start kissing.”

“Oh. We’re-we’re not?” He frowns, his face falling, and Mika’s hand freezes. She knows she recognises the disappointment creasing his features and the sadness in his puppy-dog eyes, but her brain tells her it’s impossible. Realisation creeps up on her, slowly, until it threatens to engulf her entirely.

“W-why?” Her mouth is impossibly dry, her voice cracking on a single word. She clears her throat, but it does little good. “Why would you ask that?”

Bose takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising beneath her hand. Her hand moves of its own accord, travelling down to wrap around his wrist. Their thumbs brush, his hand turning against hers. She doesn’t know if the quickened pulse she feels is hers or is.

“Because… I like you, Mika.” He looks down, a pink blush across his cheeks. “Like, I like you like you.”

For a second, there’s nothing, just the two of them and the words hanging in the air between them. He waits, his eyes searching hers before he steps away from her, his hand slipping out of her grip. He spoke the words so quietly and carefully as if he was afraid they’d break something, but they echo around her head and plaster themselves on the walls.

I like you, Mika.

She prides herself on her way with words, but all she can do here is a simple “What?”. He stands at her window seat, pulling on his hoodie. She hadn’t even noticed that it had started raining outside.

“I like you,” he says again. He runs his hand through his hair, and flashes her a smile she almost believes. “But you don’t like me back and that's cool. It’s fine. We can still be friends; I am so okay with still being friends-”

“Bose.”

“Maybe Schwoz can build another memory wiper. Or Ray can talk to our parents. I’m not sure if I want him around my mom, but my stepdad, sure-”

“Bose.”

“And if you don’t want to be friends, that’s fine too. We can just… You know… be in Danger Force. And I promise I won’t bring it up-”

“Bose!” She ended up in front of him, her chin tilted up to look him in the eyes. Bose’s ramblings die on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“It’s okay.” He goes to say more, but something stops him. She stares up at him, a million thoughts racing in her head. She filters through them and narrows everything down to three common threads. Number one, she’s liked Bose for god knows how long. Number two, she convinced herself Bose didn’t like her back. Number three, she was clearly wrong because he just said he likes her.

And he’s here, standing in front of her.

This might be the closest she’s ever been to him; their breaths mingling, the overhead light dancing in his eyes. His hand cups her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. Her hands are shaking, but she hooks her fingers around his belt loops. She pauses for half a second, wondering if this is really happening, then pushes herself up on her toes.

In all the time she’s liked him, she’s never once wondered what kissing Bose would feel like. She'd thought there was no point in wondering about something that won’t ever happen. Well, she was wrong about that, and now she knows what it’s like. Bose’s lips are soft, and he wraps his arm around her waist. His kiss is careful but also playful, and that infectious happiness she loves radiates through his touch. She grins against his mouth, her hand tangled in his hair. He kisses her in a way that makes her toes curl, her heart flutter, and a giggle sticks in the back of her throat. His kiss makes her feel all the things she usually associates with; safe and reliable and more at home than she feels here, in her own bedroom. He kisses her in a way that doesn’t make her forget what just happened or make it unimportant, but puts it all in a box and puts it to one side.  

“Mika-” They break apart just as the door clicks open. Her mom steps into the room, whatever she is about to say dying on her lips. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she sees Bose. Specifically when she sees Bose’s hands on her daughter’s waist. Bose lets her go and stumbles back, pulling his hoodie further down his body. Mrs Macklin folds her arms and looks him up and down, her demeanour more than making up for her initial shock.

“I think you’d better go home, young man,” her mom says.

“Yeah. Of course. Uh… good night Mrs Macklin.” His show of politeness doesn’t impress her. He turns to Mika instead, pulling his sleeves over his hand. “I’ll… see you later, Mika?”

Mika nods. It’s not a definite answer. But she’s not giving up on Danger Force, and certainly not on him. She hugs him again, not caring if her mom is right there. She hugs him because she needs it and in case this is the last she sees of him for a while. She lets it linger for as long as she can, and Mika feels overwhelmingly hollow when he lets go.

He climbs up on the window seat, giving her mom her third heart attack of the day.

“Through the front door!” she snaps. Bose winces and slides back down. He gives two little thumbs up and, despite everything, Mika hides her grin behind her hand. “Of course. That’s how people get in and out of houses.”

“Wait in the kitchen,” her mom says. “I’ll get my husband to drive you home. Do your parents know you’re here?”

“No.” Her mom exhales and rubs her forehead. Mika winces and looks at the floor, hands pressed behind her back. She knows a stress headache when she sees one.  

“Well, we’ll all have to have a serious conversation about this. Chapa’s parents too.” She opens the door further, a signal even Bose can pick up on.

Mika looks up and catches his eyes one last time. She tries to smile at him, and it’s helped when he grins over at her. Butterflies dance in her stomach, and she doesn’t hate it, at least this time.

Bose waves at her before disappearing through the door, his footsteps growing quieter on the stairs. She hopes Miles is down there and runs into him too.

Mika bites her lip, her mom still hanging in the doorway.

“So you weren’t lying about the kissing thing?”

“Technically… yes, I was,” she confesses. She sighs, her shoulders deflating in time with her mom’s. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ll say.” She doesn’t close the door on the way out, but Mika denies the invitation. Downstairs feels even more difficult than her bedroom, and she doesn't want to say goodbye to Bose for the third time.

Instead, she sinks onto her bed and closes her eyes. Having your world turned upside down twice in one day tends to make a girl dizzy. She’s not opposed to change, but adjusting will take some time. From part-time superhero to full-time nobody. From silently crushing on her best friend to kissing him in her bedroom. It’s a lot, and it pulls her in two different directions.