Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble

Micah was beginning to feel Iona was a lot like a distant cool air he could only feel from another room. They never saw each other.

Yet, he knew her scent which he found a little peculiar. Not that it was bad, but sweet and yet a certain illness too. He couldn't remember exactly how he knew of it. But it was sadly familiar.

Not so much in the bed where she slept since she always changed the sheets but her pillow was nearby and sometimes he'd find himself talking it from the bookshelf. Yes, he hated this feeling of missing her. He didn't want too. Honestly, he didn't think he was capable of such nonsense.

Sure, he would see her in passing. She seemed to get along with everyone at the grocery store. Customers liked her as well as co-workers. Unlike Micah who was tight-lipped and stayed away from everyone.

He just couldn't find the right time to meet up with Iona. It wasn't like she left him many opportunities. It was as if she went out of her way not to see him, and it hurt a little. How could she be so nice to everyone, but him?

And then one day when he was reaching under the bed for his sneaker that he found the empty insulin bottle. He snatched it up and thought of his brother who was diabetic. Of course, he hadn't seen his brother in years. His mother was always after his brother and what he needed to do if he wanted to survive. Of course, his brother was still at home, probably being babied. But he was still in his studies, probably getting a master degree in banking.

Of course, Micah wasn't thinking about his brother, he was only thinking of Iona. Did she even care about her health? He wanted to march right down to the grocery store and yell at her, but he knew she'd be furious if he did such a thing.

But he was waiting for her as soon as she got off work. He'd bought a new vile of insulin at Wal-Mart.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He wanted know on their walk home.

She winced as if he was being a bother.

"I'm fine," she said.

"What if I don't believe you? I don't think you've been taking anything," Micah snapped. He reminded he remembered all that bacon and pancakes she'd make for breakfast. "Have you always been diabetic?"

She shook her head, no. It had happened after an acute illness of pneumonia in her Junior year of high school. "It's really not that bad. If..if I exercise a lot and don't each much, I'm..I'm just fine."

"When's the last time you've seen a doctor?" Micah wanted to know.

She shrugged and said it was some time ago. She got her insurance through the Reservation, but she'd let it lapse and she could get the insulin over the counter at Wal-Mart.

"Let me help you," Even Micah couldn't believe he would say those words. He'd never helped anyone.

He could see her laughing at him even if she held it in. "You can try," she shrugged, "But you know, I have a mind of my own."