When a Bird Sings Chapter 2

As the weeks went by, Cate smiled more and more and her self shown brightly from her cloak of anxiety. her voice started to be used more and more and her eyes became more lively. Michael would lean against the wall, watching her pitch to his friend Thomas. She was good- better than his unorthodox buddy, he couldn't lie about it. What struck him the most was the way she fit in so well. How could she not have made friends throughout the year? It baffled him.

" Hey! Throw me the ball! It's my turn." He called, gaining the attention of his friends. The Blonde headed boy turned and threw the ball expertly into the open hand of Michael. He caught barehanded, a slight stinging sensation tingling his hand. He gestured with his head for Cate to get ready for his throw. Though his main sport was football, he enjoyed a small game of competitive catch. "Cate!" He barked and the ball sped from his hand. For one split second, the girl's eyes widened in fright. But her mitt was steady as the ball slapped the net with a sound thwack. Cate jumped with a grin on her face as she threw back the ball with a force unexpected from someone like her. Michael nodded, he was impressed. She was better than some guys... much more beautiful too.
Yet beauty hid many things, such as insecurities. Though Cate was inexplicably happy with the friendships that she had created with Thomas, Tori and Michael. But there were things that kept her awake in the deep silent hours of the night. Though the day calm and safe, the night brought on her darker thoughts.
.....
Michael noticed that something was off with Cate. Her usually perfect posture faltered and her complexion was drawn. He frowned, what could have happened to her? The young teen was surprised, but didn't say anything and just let it be. But he wondered as the bell called for end of school.

Cate let a smile curl on her lips as she watched Michael approach her at the end of class. Knowing he was there gave her an actual sense of sense of calm. Michael's also lit up as he saw the young teen lean up against the column. Cate nodded towards, him, adjusting her jacket. Though she smiled, Michael could tell that she was lying. 

Mental note: Cate is a bad liar. He thought as he flashed her a gentle grin. " Hey." Michael said, tugging at her usual ponytail.

" Hello there."

Hello there. That was so... unusual. Michael raised an eyebrow and got straight to the point," I know this might sound weird, but you don't look okay. What's wrong?"

Cate shrugged," Nothing. I just don't feel well." That was a lie... Before she could refuse, Cate was enveloped in an extra layer of human warmth. Michael had grabbed her and squeezed his arms around her shoulders.

"What hurts?" He asked, a worried tone showing.

That was a loaded question

She shrugged, "I just don't feel good. But thanks for asking- and the hug." She could feel his chest move against her own, and though it was time to leave, she didn't want to. Not yet anyways.

"Well, it's my pleasure. I don't like when my friends feel bad. Anything I can do?"

Slowly and reluctantly, Cate slid from under his comforting arms," No, there isn't anything. I'll text you later."
He walked down the parking lot, "Okay! Make sure and take a nap. It'll make you feel better."
Cate waved in agreement and walked to her truck and drove off. She sighed, another day, another lie She was used to it. It was apart of her life now... unfortunately.
....
The balls of Michael's feet hit the turf with precision as he weaved his way through the defensive line, sweat beaded along his forehead underneath his helmet, but he almost didn't notice. His mind was elsewhere. He dwelled on Cate's apprehension, the way she adjusted her jacket. It was warmer than it had been that day, so why the hoodie, a black hoodie? She had looked tired, the circles under eyes gave it away and so did the complexion and posture of his friend. Michael flew off his feet and onto his back with a thud, losing the air in his lungs.

"Michael!" Yelled Coach Kicston, a look of confusion and frusturation on his face.

" Yes coach!" He hollered, jumping to his feet and obediently jogging over to the tall bald man who was menacing during the Season.

"Where's your mind at, boy? 'Cause it's not on this field where it should be!"

Michael shook the sweat from his hair,"   It was just a mistake, coach. I won't let it happen again." He assured Kicston. The man grunted.
" It's the fourth time you've been tackled today." His face soften slightly," What's up, Michael?"
The boy shrugged, " Nothing sir, just a frustrating  day is all. I won't let it happen again." He stood tall and erect. Kicston nodded and nodded towards the field.

" Get out there, I want to see your head back in the game." He slapped Michael's helmet," Use frustration as a strength, it'll get you farther down the field."

" Yes sir!" Michael hollered, running back amongst his comrades that were huddled in the center of the field. He wouldn't let his mind slip again, he couldn't, but he just couldn't help the thought of her not being okay. It made him frustrated.

Use frusturation as a strength, it'll get you farther down to the field

Coach's words echoed in his mind and he grinned. Yes, the sooner he used it as a strength, the sooner he could get out of there and get to Cate to see what was really bothering her. Because it was really bothering him too.

....
Cate fumbled with her thumbs instead of doing her Advanced Biology homework due the next day. She looked in the mirror across from her. Her reflection greeted her with tired eyes that reminded her of usually clear rushing river water. Her face was slender, but short, sharp at the chin. Freckles sprinkled themselves along the bridge of her nose uncertainly as if they didn't belong on her olive complexion. Her hair tied in a knot atop her head, mussed and wirey looking. She was short, not even five feet and a half, but her figure would have been classified as 'willowy' instead of 'childish' if she had been taller. She didn't hate the way she looked, but if she could, she'd change a lot of things.
Cate stood and grabbed her hoodie that had been kicked to the floor and now lay haphazardly amongst a bunch of scrap paper in the corner of her room. Turning her light out, she climbed through her window and scampered to the small acre of woods behind her house. She loved the woods, but she never went farther than the creek.  Cate  wasn't allowed to, but sometimes her curiousity got the best of her.

Today was one of those 'sometimes'. She skipped daintily across the stones and onto the mossy bank on the other side. She let out a breath, this was fun. The sun had started to set behind her in a plethora of oranges and cotton candy pink. It warmed her back through the crevices in the branches. Cate dug her hands into her pockets and walked slowly along, her chucks not making a sound against the brush. She shivered; it had gotten colder. This was a time she enjoyed, the quiet in which this tiny piece of nature could sing. It spoke to her, calmed her, soothed her. She breathed in the scent of the trees and wildflowers  and then halted. There was a new smell. She sniffed the air again as a dog would- strange though it seems. It smelled musty, sweaty. Along with it came the sound of a knife against wood. Cate became tense, she had never crossed anyone in the woods. True, she had never come to this part of the woods. She was close and peaked around the edge of a pine. A figure sat on a large rock near a clearing by a row of fence. His sleek black hair was plastered to his neck as his eyes were captured by a piece of wood and a sharp blade that whittled away, shavings flying with a flick of his wrist. His shoulders were small, but broad as they poked through the drenched muscle shirt. The boy was hunched over, enraptured by his work. But Cate knew that silhouette. .

"Michael?" She called. He turned, his face red and hot. When he finally recognized her, he grinned.

"Cate!" He cried with a grin, ushering her over.

"What are you doing out here?" Cate asked, crouching next to him. He looked up from the knife.

" I always come out here. I just haven't been in a while and I thought it would be nice to come out here and relax."

Cate raised her eyebrows," Really? I come out here too! I don't understand why we have never crossed paths."

Michael shrugged, " I live right behind that fence."

Cate chuckled," I live right past the creek." She pointed towards the way she came. It was Michael's turn to be surprised.

" Since you live so close, why hadn't we met before?" He asked, placing his things on the ground beside him.

" I never went past the creek. That's why I guess." She replied.

" Well," He said, picking his wood and knife up off the ground and continuing," I'm glad we met when we did. It looked like you needed a friend."

A small smile crept up on Cate's face as she watched her friend's hands," Yeah, looks like I did, huh? What are you making?"

He looked at her, her eyes were even more vibrant than before. The forest colors really set them off prettily. "Oh this? It's just a little hobby I picked up back in 7th grade. I'm just detailing this wood, maybe it could be a handle for a knife or something. I don't know."  Cate observed the intricate petals of a rose that wrapped around the end with vines scrambling their way up to the top. She tapped a finger on it, careful of the knife.

" Once it's stained and painted, it'll be really nice."

" You can have it once I'm done." He suggested, giving one last twirl of the knife and looking at her. Cate shook her head.

" No! I can't do take that from you. You're working too hard on it."

Michael grinned, standing. " I insist, it'll be yours by the end of the month."
Cate looked up at him, " No indeed." Michael offered his hand to help her up. She took it and he pulled her up gingerly.

" Too bad. It's gonna be yours." He replied with a smile," I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow."
She started walking back to her house," See ya."

" Hey."

Cate stopped, turning back towards her friend, " Hm?"

" Are you sure you're okay? We're friends, Cate, you can tell me anything." He said, his face gentle and concerned. For a minute, Cate wanted to tell him. She opened her mouth," Micheal, I..."

If you tell, he'll never see you the same again.

" Cate? What is it?" He asked, stepping towards her. She shook her head.

" I'm fine."

Michael raised an eyebrow," You sure?"

She nodded with a smile," I promise, don't worry about me."

Michael looked over her one more time. She was petite, had she been losing wieght over the past few months? He sighed inwardly," Okay Cate, but know that I'm right here if you need anything."

" I know." She said quietly and turned back towards the direction she came. Michael watched her leave, waiting till her sillohuette was out of sight. Her hair shone against the black hoodie that swayed against her back. A breath caught in his chest, she was beautiful.

" I don't think you know that though, Cate." He whispered turning his back towards the creek and walking back to the fence," I wish you did."