In the midst of this, we did not notice the door open, and something soft brushed against my leg. I looked down; it was Brownie. I patted his head. He enjoyed it and was wagging his tail.

“I think he loves you more than me.”

“Nah, he is just curious about me.”

“Woof!” 

Michael put his hand on my shoulder. “He does not open up to others so easily.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Well, he keeps his distance from the new people he meets, like a 5-year-old.” He patted Brownie’s head. “Or maybe he is nervous like you?”

“Maybe to some extent, because dogs don’t overthink like humans.”

"Yeah, it’s true.” he chuckled.

I thought for a while whether to ask him or not. It was simpler to sort this out, then let the thoughts surrounding my mind surround me every time I was awake. “Do I make things... like, hard between us..?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. I mentally face-palmed myself.

“I mean, like, do I make things difficult or awkward between us?” I paused for a while, trying to reframe the sentences in my mind. Sometimes I question to myself why I chose to major in Mass and Communication when I myself lack the ability to express myself properly.

“You know, I don’t really talk much in person, and I am not into some stuff other people go into. Like sports, talking about shows or movies, discussing trends, being involved in gossip, and all that stuff.”

“There is silence between us, the majority of the time. I mean, it’s not only between us. It has been with others too, like Steph or Lucas, when they are with me.” I put my hands into the pocket to try not to fiddle with Brownie’s hair or the bed sheet. I continued, “I don’t really have a clue on where to start a conversation or how to do that stuff. But it’s not exactly like this; there are some times when I am able to do it, but those are rare.” I breathed in, “Do you like... find the silence uncomfortable?”

“Chris, I-”

I interrupted him, “You don’t have to say no; if you are uncomfortable, just say it. I don’t want to pressure you or anything like that, and I won’t hold grudges about it.”

“Hey, r-”

“If you are concerned about it affecting your relationship with Mason, you don’t have to worry about it. He won’t be bothered about it.”

“Woof!”

The curtains were flapping mildly aggressively due to a gush of wind attempting to enter the room. The game’s paused screen is still gleaming in the already lighted room. The wagging of Brownie’s tail and his huffing were clearly audible. Thinking of huffing, I finally let out the breath I had been holding so far. Waiting for him to break the silence between us, as the circumstances were before, like on the bus rides.

He moved closer to me and began to smoothly pet the dog, who happily accepted the petting unknown to things I just blurted out to his owner.

“It does not bother me, the silence. It is not uncomfortable.” He said.

“Wha-”

“BOYS, SAM IS BACK. COME DOWN.” We heard the voice of Cole from below.

Michael stood up and said, “Oh, Mom is back. Let’s go.” He stretched out his hand toward me. I did not think much about it and took a hold of his hand. My brain is internally asking me, Why did we do that?

A lady in formal wear came out of one of the rooms. Her hair was tied up in a bun. She was the woman from one of the pictures I saw before in the living room. She looked in my direction and squinted her eyes.

Cole chuckled. ”You forgot to put on your glasses, Sammy.”

Sam muttered something under breath, went back to the room, and came back this time with glasses. "Oh, so you are the boy Michael was talking about last night.”

She brought her hand forward and asked. “What was your name again?”

“Christopher Wilson,” I said while shaking her hand.

“I am Sam Miller. Mic’s mother.”

“Mom!” Michael shouted from behind. “What did I tell you guys about nicknames?”

"Oh, come on, it’s not that hard to figure out. Right, Chris?”

I looked in between Cole and Sam. “Yeah, anyway, so how was your day today?” I said.

She said, “It was a bit of a rush as I took a half day today from work. But I feel quite relaxed now.”

“That’s good to hear, though I am surprised. How did you get a half day today?” Cole asked.

She said, “I am a diligent worker; anyway, are you all hungry?”

"Yes, we are.” Michael said.

Brownie greeted his owner, who recently came home, and headed towards the kitchen.

Cole said, “I have got the chicken fingers and mozzarella sticks ready. The French fries are still yet to be done.”

She asked, “Sandwich are we making?”

Cole told her, “Yes, now help me with its seasoning.” He headed towards the kitchen, and she followed him.

“Let’s go to the living room, we can watch a movie.” Michael said.

Was he not going to talk about what I mentioned before? Did I make things worse? I said, “Ok.” when he gave me a confused look while I sat on the couch.

“Any ideas on what to watch?” He asked.       

“Anything as long as your mom and grandfather don’t shoot daggers at you in case we end up putting up an inappropriate movie….?”

He chuckled. “Oh, thank you for the gentle reminder, but that still does not answer the question I asked you before,” he said while scrolling through the movie section. His smile felt distinctive yet made me feel as if I were being given a dose of dopamine.

But he was still not talking about what we talked in his room. Did he not want to continue or completely clear out the question I had asked before? Was it making him uneasy? He was behaving his usual self before and after, which was the same. But was this maybe an act of his? But why?

“You spaced out again, Chris?” He asked while nudging my shoulder. I looked towards him, but this time he was not looking at me but at my hands. It was then that I realized that my hands were fiddling with the ends of my sweater, to the point that if one of the threads were pulled out again just one more time, it would mess up the whole knitting of the sweater. I thought I remembered them putting them in my pockets…?

“No..” I immediately moved my hands away from my sweater ends.

“You okay, here?” He shifted closer to me. “I mean, you chill with my mom and grandpa? They don’t mind you at all, if that’s what bothers you.”

“What? No, I am chilled.” Yes, absolutely not freaking about things I cannot put together currently or about the ambiguity in my mind about you, Michael. I want to know more about him, but I don’t know how to ask.

"Boys, what movie are you putting up?” asked Cole from the kitchen.

“Not decided yet,” Michael said.

Cole said, “Let me help you guys with it.”

"No, no, Dad, you stay right here. Help me here with French fries and then with assembling the sandwich together.” Sam told her.

We could hear him whining. Michael told me to think of any movie or my favorite one.

I told him I don’t exactly have any; there are times when I loved horrors for their twisted entities or their unexpected moves, like when the clown played with the minds of children during their summer holidays.

Then sometimes I was on the edge of my seat, when the thrill of whether the character would make it out of the loophole of escaping the killer from both her past and present, only to be put on a cliffhanger, which was not fair, by the way.

“If things like these were to happen in real life, I would be the first guy to end up dead or get stuck. These complex and intertwined stuff feels great as long as they're fiction for entertainment purposes.” I told him. He nodded. I continued, “But in reality, I would hate it and avoid it as much as possible. I don’t want to get into complexity; a subtle thing is enough to alter the direction of our lives in scenarios shown in movies.”

He kept scrolling through the list of movies and said, “Yes, it would sure be difficult. If stuff like those shown in the movie were to happen for real, I don’t think I would survive either of the scenarios. But what about the genre of movies where there is drama and romance?” He asked while tilting his head toward me.

I said, “I don’t know. When it comes to this genre, the question is not exactly about life or death or eliminating entities that do us harm.  Understanding what others think and feel towards you is a mystery to me. What about you?”

“Yes, understanding others is hard. But it’s not like we fully understand ourselves, do we? In spite of that, we still sometimes try to go out of our way to understand someone who is dear to us, or we are just curious about them.” He said while glancing at me.