New Year Promise
by Winter

New Year's Eve was a great day to have your own balcony. Especially one with a view over Pine Lake. Micah stared, wide-eyed, at the colourful bursts of light against the starry sky. He had seen fireworks before, of course, but always from the ground. Up here, from across the lake, it felt as if he were at a level with the flashes and bangs. Even above them, in a way, as the lights were also reflected in the clear lake ice.

"Wow..."

A ball of green fire had just sprung to life, and before the sound of it reached him a blue one superimposed itself over it. Bang! Bang! And then a crackling hiss as the blue lights turned into bright white sparkles. Micah grinned happily as red, yellow and green balls followed in rapid succession, though none of them was as perfectly synched with one another. The display built to a crescendo, then tapered off. Occasional fluorescence flared up here and there, but clearly the main celebration had come to an end.

Micah checked his wristwatch. Half past twelve. Happy New Year, he thought to himself. He wished he had something to celebrate with. Something bubbly. Something boozy. He had never tasted alcohol, and he hated the smell of it, but it would have been a good way to irk his dad, who did promise to be home before midnight. Just imagine the scene whenever the door would open, tomorrow or the next day or the next; there he'd be, blind drunk and passed out on the floor, too young to be left home alone over night and what a scandal it would be.

He sighed. None of that would happen. Sometimes it sucked to be a good kid. Still, he had stayed up past his bedtime. And he had watched a scary movie leading up to midnight. True, it had been dulled down for TV, including blurred-out bits of nudity and even a blank screen during some of the murders. But surely it counted? He huffed. Not fooling anyone. If bad were pneumonia, he was a mildly sore hangnail.

A noise made him lean out over the balcony railing and look to his left. Next house over, someone was stirring on a balcony similar to his. Micah caught a glimpse of pure white, and his heart began tapping out a faster rhythm. His cheeks burned, and he knew he was blushing. He bit his lower lip, and his mind formed one word.

Mikal...

* * * * * *

It had caused a bit of a stir, that autumn, when a furry family moved into the neighbourhood. Even though only Mikal and his mother were furries. His stepfather and stepsister were both humans. Most people, like Micah and his dad, had been curious and welcoming, but there had been some muttering as well. Especially among the older folks. And very especially among the churchgoers.

Some talked about how they had stopped letting their cats and dogs out, afraid they'd get hunted and even eaten. Others cried atrocity, impurity, and even traitors to humankind. Especially the latter really bugged Micah. Traitors how? Was there some kind of war going on between humans and furries that nobody had told him about? And impurity, that was just plain stupid. Even he, at eleven, knew that different species couldn't procreate, and species from different planets? No chance! Dumb, ignorant people were venting their bigotry, their hatred of all things other, to a point where they were happy to lie even to themselves.

At least, that was Micah's opinion, and he wished he had the courage to proclaim it openly. Loudly. To their faces. But, just as he was too much of a wuss to be a bad boy and drink and smoke and raise Hell, he was too shy to stand up to the bullies of the world. Or even the bullies at school. Not that Mikal was bullied; the kids had almost unanimously accepted him, as well as the fact that he had a human sister the same age.

Eleven.

Just like Micah.

* * * * * *

He stayed out on his balcony just a little bit longer, ignoring the cold. Maybe Mikal would come out again. The two of them were friendly, but not really friends. The furry boy was outgoing and chatty, while Micah was... well, not. His tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth whenever in the presence of snow white fur and deep blue eyes and wagging tail and narrow muzzle with a cute, often twitching nose.

Yes, cute.

Ever since the day he spotted Mikal carrying in boxes from the family van, he had thought the furry boy was the cutest thing in the world. In any world. Of course and naturally, he hadn't said anything to anyone, especially after he began hearing the mumbled nastiness from the haters. Oh, he wanted to speak up, he really did. He just didn't know how.

There he was again! Micah's heart began another happy dance inside his chest. In the stillness after the fireworks, he could hear soft humming. A wordless melody that Micah couldn't place, but he found it beautiful. Who was he singing for? Or did he sing just for the music itself? Micah wanted to sing along, but the usual doubts held him back. Would Mikal get angry for getting disturbed? Or worse, just laugh at him? Unable to produce even a squeak, he just watched. Not creepy-stalker ogled, just beauty-appreciating beheld.

Like all furries, Mikal didn't fully resemble any particular Earth species. The closest thing Micah could think of was an arctic fox, though of course Mikal walked on two feet, and had arms and hands instead of front paws. And he could talk. His voice was melodic, and he had a mild accent that made him sometimes roll his r's and click his hard consonants. Micah found it endearing, but then again, he found everything about his new neighbour endearing.

Micah himself was just a boring ol' human. Lanky and awkward after a recent growth spurt, hands and feet that felt too large and too clumsy. Dull grey-brown eyes, dark brown hair that stubbornly resisted all attempts to comb it, skin neither fair nor dark but some kind of in-between. Not his dad's pale Scandi-Irish, not his late mother's ebony Kenyan. He thought of himself as the very peak of averageness.

Bland, was the word stuck in his mind every time he studied his bathroom mirror.

Then there was this thing about being infatuated with another boy. A furry boy. There were times when thinking about it gave him a headache, from sheer confusion. Dad always said be you, Micah, that's the only thing that matters. Easier said than done.

The music had stopped, and he snapped out of his reverie to find himself eye-to-eye with his crush. Even at a distance and in the near-dark, he could see the bright blue of Mikal's eyes. Micah's lower lip trembled, and he wanted to either dash back inside or break down crying. Possibly both. Who said males couldn't multi-task?

Then the unthinkable happened. Mikal smiled, and waved at him.

Micah gave the tiniest, meekest of waves in return. Then he blushed, panicked, and ran nose first into his very closed balcony door.

* * * * * *

Next morning, he woke up to the smell of bacon. A somewhat muted smell, as his nose was still a bit swollen. To his surprise, Micah hadn't cried after his escapade. Instead he had spent the hour it took him to fall asleep feeling giddy, twisting and turning in bed until his brain finally shut down. Mikal had waved at him. At. Him. And he had smiled. Again, at. Him. It was too good to be true, even though it was true. Micah had slept with his pillow clutched in a tight embrace, which led to a crick in his neck as he showered and brushed his teeth.

Downstairs he found his dad in the kitchen, manning the stove. Grinning, he sauntered over and collected a bear hug, breathing in the friendly, familiar and comforting scent that meant home and happiness. He felt lips brush against his forehead, and purred like a kitten.

"Did you watch the fireworks last night, lad?"

"Mhm," Micah mumbled into the hug. "They woke me up, but I went back to bed soon as they finished."

"Sure you did." The hug tightened, and Micah exaggerated a groan. "It's okay, son. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to stay up with you."

"Did it work out? The meeting, I mean?"

"I think so." Micah Sr, usually called Mickey by everyone who didn't call him dad, released the hug and returned to his cooking. "How 'bout you? Not too bored, I hope."

"Nah. The party kept me occupied. Though I almost passed out after the beer chugging contest."

"Uh-huh."

"It got a bit dull after the strippers left."

"I bet."

"Then it got exciting again when my homemade fireworks backfired. Did you know that fire trucks are really loud when you're close to them?"

"I did know that."

"Anyhow, they put out most of the worst of it. Just don't go out back, please, 'til I've had a chance to re-paint."

"I won't." Father and son smiled at each other, then Micah was caught in a headlock and got his scalp knuckle-rubbed. He shrieked, then giggled uncontrollably. "You're a good boy."

"No I'm not! I'm the worst."

"Did Mrs J come on over?"

"Uh-huh." Micah nodded, once he had been released. "She brought a casserole, and we ate and watched Dinner for One."

"Same procedure as last year?"

"Same procedure as every year, dad." Micah grinned. "Then I watched a not-scary movie, and I watched the fireworks, and Mikal was on his balcony and he waved at me and I bumped my nose on my door."

"So that's why it's a bit red." Micah nodded. "I don't have to check the levels on my wine bottles?"

"No, dad, you don't have to check the wine. If you'd had champagne, I woulda drunk it."

"Sure you would."

"I only booze with style."

"Good for you." He shut off the stove and dished up their breakfast plates. "By the way, champagne is wholly overrated. It's too sweet and too sour at the same time."

"That's cause you just drink the cheap stuff. Me, I always go for the pricey ones. Krug extra brut with... uhm... magnum sabred."

"Magnum sabred?"

"I don't know." Micah shrugged as he sat down to eat. "I looked up a lot of words so I could scare you, but I forgot what most of 'em meant."

* * * * * *

After the table was cleared and the dishwasher running, Micah's dad went for a nap. He had spent much of the night on the road, and set his alarm clock for a late lunch. Micah decided to go outdoors, and layered up with warm clothes underneath his best snowwear. Knitted mittens, a Red Wings hat and matching scarf completed his look as he went to dig out his green plastic toboggan from the shed. It looked more like a dustbin lid than an actual sled, but it was good for snow-sliding fun.

Their back yard dropped quite steeply down towards the lake, but there was enough level ground to ensure safe braking before the water's edge. Micah lay face down and head first, like a skeleton racer, and took off. He tried to make a couple of turns, playing the role of an Olympic champion-to-be, but the toboggan could really only go straight down once it had been set in motion. No matter, that was what pretending was all about. In his mind he zoomed around tight corners and dangerous zig-zag chicanes, before he crossed the finish line and it was time to brake and hear the roar of the crowd. Or in this case, the distant hum of a couple of cars on the lake road. Again, pretending. Micah stood up, spun around and absorbed the admiration of the imaginary masses, before he fell down, almost disappearing in the snow.

He repeated the run a few more times, winning both the national finals and the world cup trophy. Then he tried going on his back, feet first like a luge run, but that almost ended out on the lake ice where he wasn't allowed to go on his own. He had to roll off the toboggan and ended up in the snow again. So, it would have to be skeleton the rest of the day.

When he got tired from all the trudging up and riding down, he went out on the bridge and sat down on the bench that looked out over the lake. In the summer their boat would be tied up alongside the bridge, but now the wooden structure stood bare and alone. It felt peaceful, and the ice was so clear and cleaned from snow by the wind, that Micah thought he could almost see fish swimming underneath it. He turned right and could see Mr J's bridge, also boatless, though he couldn't see his neighbour's house. There were too many trees in the way. To the left, lay Mikal's house. Micah could see the balcony from which the furry boy had waved last night. Despite the cold, his cheeks heated.

Nobody was up there now, but he could imagine the furry boy looking, watching him sled down the slope. Micah shivered, and turned back to watch the frozen lake. Why was he such a coward when it came to making friends? At school, he had a few mates he hung out with, but they were mostly like him. Kids who didn't really fit in, kids who couldn't easily strike up conversations and win others over. Kids who became friends out of necessity as much as choice. Micah really wanted a friend who was his friend just because they made good friends. He frowned underneath his hat. That sentence made better sense as a thought than when he tried to put it to words.

Most of all, he wanted Mikal to be his friend.

They nodded when they met in the school corridors, or around their homes, and had even exchanged smiles a couple of times. But they rarely talked, and when they did, Micah usually either got tongue-tied or had his voice break like a squawking bird. He wanted to be cool, suave, debonair. Charming to the point of seductive. He blushed again. In his mind's eye, he could see himself reach out to take Mikal's hands, holding them gently as their gazes met. Blue eyes. Grey-brown eyes. They'd talk, easily and without awkward shyness and lame silences. And maybe, just maybe, they would both lean forward at the same time and...

Micah almost fell off the bench as the fantasy got too real. His butt was cold, and it was time to either get back to sledding or go inside for a hot bath. He decided to run the Olympic gold race a couple more times before quitting. First, though, he took one more look up at Mikal's balcony.

"New Year's Day," he half-whispered. "I've decided on my promise for the coming year."

He grabbed the toboggan and headed back up to the house, then immediately plopped down on it and made the run. Gold again. He cheered, then fell in the snow. As he lay there, trying to ignore a trickle of melting snow down the back of his neck, he finished his thoughts from before.

"I promise, my dear, sweet Mikal, that I will become your friend this year. I don't know when, I don't know how. But I will try my best." He stood up, and cast a quick glance up the slope. "I swear to be the best friend ever."

He sighed, and dragged his dustbin lid up for another thrilling championship race. How he'd ever be able to keep his promise, he didn't know. It was mildly ironic, he mused as he looked out over the lake; he wasn't allowed out there in case he broke the ice and fell in. While in the metaphorical sense, breaking the ice was the last thing he'd ever be able to do.

* * * * * *

Head hanging low while he walked back up the slope, he decided to have one more go, then he'd hop into a bath, with lots of apple-scented bubbles and with a mug of hot chocolate on the side. He had left his watch in his room, but his stomach told him it would soon be lunchtime. Bath later, then.

Lost in thoughts, he almost collided with something that jumped aside with a low squeal. At first, Micah thought he had imagined it, but then he saw something white, clad in white. And he saw deep blue eyes.

"H-hi," the furry boy said, his voice so quiet Micah almost couldn't hear it through his hat. "I... uhm... I saw you playing from up there, from my balcony. Looks like... looks like you're having fun."

Micah's mouth fell open, and he fought an inside battle with his own brain, willing it to come up with something intelligible. At the same time, he took in the sight before him. Mikal was wearing white tennis shoes, white sweat pants and, incredibly, a white t-shirt. Almost like winter camouflage. It made Micah shiver just seeing him so underdressed, until he realised that of course, that soft-looking fur of his would keep Mikal warm enough. He must have idled for too long, because Mikal's smile faded, and he looked down.

"Uhm.. you... you probably want to keep riding by yourself." His voice sounded so dejected that it triggered something inside Micah, something protective. Something deeply, deeply caring. "Or maybe you just want to go inside..."

"No!" Micah cried out, so loud the furry boy started. "Sorry, I mean... I mean, I'm not going inside. And I don't wanna ride. Alone, I mean. Shoot, I make no sense."

"You really don't, no." Mikal let out a soft giggle, his small, fox-like ears twitching, and Micah felt an epiphany creep upon him. Mikal was shy, too. At least, one on one with him. "But it's okay, I think I get what you mean."

"Wanna go for a ride?" A whole sentence without getting flustered. Definitely wow time. "Or I can show you how if you don't know."

"I know how to sled," Mikal said with s grin that showed gleaming fangs. Some of the swagger Micah knew from school had returned. He pointed towards the sky with his thumb. "From, you know, back at home."

"You really are from outer space, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm from home. But I went to outer space with my mama, and I live on an alien planet now."

"That's right," Micah said with a smile. "I never thought of it that way."

"So, can we?"

"Can we what?"

"Sled?"

"Sure!"

* * * * * *

An hour and a half later, Micah Sr called out that lunch was ready. Micah pouted. He didn't want to stop now! Sledding with Mikal had been so much fun. They had taken turns racing for world championship gold or, as it was called where Mikal came from, the Ice Breaker Prize. And they had also sledded together, which had been even more fun. The toboggan had barely been able to fit the two of them, and they'd had to cling to one another in order to not fall off. There had been much yelling and howling and laughing and laughing, and they usually ended up in a heap, with tangled limbs and snow up their noses.

"I guess it's time to stop," Mikal said with a sad smile. "Thank you for playing with me, Micah, I had very much fun."

"Y-you know my name?"

"Of course. You and your father came over to introduce yourselves when we moved in, don't you remember? I'm Mikal, by the way, in case you forgot."

"I... I didn't forget." Micah fell silent, and the two boys stood facing one another. Neither seemed to know what to say next. "I'm just... not sure you'd remember. I mean... we never really talked much."

"I wanted to," Mikal whispered. "But when we meet at school, you seemed so... distant."

"I'm shy." Micah blushed, and stared down at his own boots. "I'm not very good at talking, especially to someone I don't know very well, or when there's other people around."

"I see." Micah felt a furry finger gently touch his chin, lifting his face up until their eyes met. Mikal was smiling. "So, maybe we can get to know each other, and talking will be easier? No need to be shy?"

"Maybe." Micah felt sure that his heart missed a beat or two. "I'd... I'd like that."

"Kids!" came a strong voice from the front porch, making both boys jump. "Lunch!"

"Did... did your father say kids? As in both of us?"

"I guess you're invited." Micah shrugged, then grinned. "We're probably having sandwiches and soup, if that's okay with you."

"Yes, much so," Mikal nodded. "I can eat most human food, except for chocolate which makes my tummy grumbly and brussel sprouts because they taste awful."

"I don't like them much either," Micah laughed. "So, wanna come?"

"Gladly! I'll just let my parents know." He took out something from his pocket that looked mostly like a smartphone, but not of a make that Micah had ever seen. After he pressed a couple of buttons, the thing beeped. "There, now they know where I am, and that I'm with a friend."

"A... friend." Micah paused, emotions welling up inside him. He wanted to yell, and he wanted to weep, but instead he fired up his warmest smile in a long, long time. "I'm happy to be your friend."

"It fits, you know." Blue eyes shone, as the smile was returned. "Our names, I mean. Micah and Mikal, almost the same. Our stars wanted us to be friends."

"We say the fates decided."

"Sounds strange. Maybe you will explain?"

"Definitely. After you tell me about our stars."

They walked around the house and up to the porch, just when Micah's dad opened the door and drew in breath to yell again. Micah introduced his friend, then they were led into the mud room to get out of their snowy clothes. As it turned out, they were both soaked through to skin and fur, and they had to make a quick streak up the stairs to Micah's room, where Mikal borrowed dry clothes so they could eat with decency.

* * * * * *

After lunch, and quick showers, the boys settled down in the living room to watch an action movie. Mikal, it turned out, loved human films, and he laughed and squealed and cheered in all the right places. They were dressed in warm terry cloth robes.  Micah was holding a mug of hot chocolate, while Mikal sipped sweet tea. They also had a tin of cookies to munch on.

Micah had chosen the end of the couch, and to his delight Mikal sat down right next to him. Throughout the movie he could feel warmth radiating from his new friend, and it was a struggle to keep from petting Mikal's fur. It looked so soft and fluffy, even after his shower, that Micah's fingers ached to touch it. When the movie ended it was dark outside, and time for Mikal to go home. His clothes were dry, and Micah waited in the hall while he changed in the mud room. Soon they stood facing one another inside the front door, and once again both seemed to be waiting for the other to say something. In the end, it was Mikal who broke the silence.

"I... I had a great time today, Micah. Thank you so much." He leaned in swiftly, and licked Micah's cheek. "For being my friend."

"Oh, wow," was all Micah managed to say. His face felt hot. "I... uhm... you... I mean..."

"You make no sense again," Mikal giggled, "and your face is red."

"It's called blushing," Micah muttered, touching his cheek where the oh, wow had happened. "Do you... do you do that with all your friends?"

"No," Mikal's ears flattened down, and he bit his lower lip. "That is for a special friend only. A very special friend."

"Oh." They were both grinning now, fidgeting, unwilling to say goodbye. Then Micah kissed his new friend's furry cheek. Unable to believe he had been so bold, he blushed even deeper. "T-that's for... for my special friend."

"Will you come to my home tomorrow?" Mikal asked. "To meet my parents and my sister? And maybe we play in the snow again."

"I'd like that."

They fidgeted some more, then grabbed each other's hands. Then they squirmed a bit, before Mikal finally managed to open the door and step outside. Micah followed, but it soon became too cold for him, and he went back inside after one last whispered see you soon.

* * * * * *

That night, before he went to bed, Micah opened his balcony door and peered out. On another balcony much like his, he spotted a white-furred figure, which let out a happy squeal and waved energetically. Micah waved back, before retreating inside. Despite the chill from opening the door, he felt a surge of warmth run through him. He had made a friend, a real friend.

He had made a New Year promise, and fulfilled it the very same day. Maybe a new world record? Definitely a new Micah record. He decided to count his promise as fulfilled, even though it had been Mikal who came to see him. Who cared about the little details?

For the who-knowsth time, he touched his cheek, where Mikal had licked him. Was that, like a kiss? He hoped it was. And he had kissed Mikal back.

He, Micah! The shy little boy who could barely talk to other kids, had been bold bordering brazen. If someone had told him this, yesterday...

This could be the beginning of a very happy New Year.