Choking back his laughter, Charlie reached for the plans Mikey held out to him. They were supposed to be making a green alien lampshade with three
arms on either side. “This is ambitious.”
“Yes. But we can do it.”
“Charlie…” Mikey begged silently with his eyes.
“Ari, you ever done papier-mâché before?”
“Of course. Remember we made planets in fourth grade.”
“No,” Charlie gently shoved her out of the way and took her seat, “I made planets. You ate paste.”
“You can’t just manhandle me out of this. I’m project manager.”
Laughing, Charlie eyed his brother. “You want to fire her or will I?”
Looking serious and regretful, Mikey turned to Ari who was standing over them with her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, Ari. You’re fired.”
She made a few spluttering noises before crossing her arms over her chest. “That was so harsh.”
Like always, Ari’s silent treatment lasted five minutes. She hovered over them as they started from scratch, making them snacks and bringing them soda,
and offering commentary and suggestions that were ignored as he and Mikey spent three hours creating a papier-mâché alien lampshade. By the time they
were finished, Mikey’s eyes were drooping.
“Right, it’ll be dry in the morning. You better get to bed.” Charlie steered Mikey towards the hall.
Mumbling thanks to Charlie, his little brother sleepily stumbled his way up to bed, calling a lazy goodnight out to his mom as he passed the sitting room.
Sighing wearily himself, Charlie went back inside the kitchen to see Ari had miraculously cleared everything away in seconds. He smiled at her gratefully as he pulled his backpack up off the floor.
“I suppose I better get going.” Ari yawned and then eyed him as he took out the math chapter he had to finish for tomorrow’s class. “You haven’t done it yet?”
Charlie shook his head. “I got waylaid, remember.” At her silence and unwavering stare, Charlie frowned. “What?”
She smiled at him suddenly and impulsively reached over and kissed his cheek. Charlie felt his skin burn hot where her lips had touched him and he
laughed a little nervously.
“What was that for?”
“You’re such a good brother.” She slipped onto the stool beside him. “I’ve finished this chapter. I can help you get it done quicker.”
“You don’t have to, Ari. What I did tonight… it was nothing. It was a stupid lampshade.”
“A stupid lampshade that meant a lot to Mikey. I wish I had someone like you. Admit it.” She nudged his shoulder playfully. “You’d do anything for your
brother.”
Huffing, Charlie rolled his eyes. “Are you helping me or what?”
“Not until you admit it.”
Seeing she was serious, Charlie smirked, giving in. “Fine. I admit. I’d do absolutely anything for the little creep.” He shoved the math book at her. “Now will you help me or not?”
… Charlie gazed at the ceiling, light from the street lamps outside casting shadows across it. He watched shadows of the leaves of the tree outside dance in front of him and wished, like he wished every day, that he could dance the shadows out of his soul. Not a day went by when he didn’t have a flashback to some ordinary day with Mikey – ordinary days that had suddenly grown extraordinary now, if only for the fact that they alowed Charlie to talk to Mikey again in his memories.