From the book Belly Monster

Bowling

Mike D was a guy who would hang out at the house I shared with several roommates, and I found him mostly full of shit but also a little interesting.  Mike D was very into indie rock and everything that made him "cool."  Mike D dated some of the roommates and most of the cute art school women. I loved to tease him by calling him "disco Mike" because he was so, well, full of himself. He did not appreciate my nickname for him.  Mike D also had a ton of money after winning a lawsuit. Apparently, he got into a horrible accident with Trevor and another person.  Due to the nature of the accident, Trevor and Mike got large settlements. Having money didn't help Mike's ego, but underneath all the show, there was a genuinely sweet human who just wanted connection, like everyone else.

 Mike D viewed me as a dorky friend who would surprise him with sarcastic comebacks, often cracking people up.  He looked at me a lot, with wonder, and would say things like, "I just can't figure you out, Jenny; you truly are a mystery."  We borderline fought at times when I noticed he was being a little too ego-centric. I had this 'I don't care how cool you are' attitude toward him, and in hindsight, I think that is what he liked about our connection. This memory of Mike and me stands out clearly in my mind when I think about my time in Pittsburgh.  Mike shows up at my house with a friend.  He looks off, pale, like he'd been partying all night.  I genuinely ask him if he is okay. He looks off for a while, then says, "No."  I ask him if he's eaten anything yet. He says, "Not for days."  He and his friend continued to appear a little spacey.  I quickly cooked up whatever I could find, some sort of spaghetti meal, and went to the length of setting the table, candle, and all. I loved hosting and making it special just for giggles and sarcasm.  We were so poor in that house that we never paid rent on time or held down a job for more than a few weeks. It was a known struggle for those living in the house and those who partied there.  My designing a candle-lit lunch out of whatever I could find in the cupboards was, in fact, hilarious.

Mike and his friend sat and ate.  Mike became tearful. I sat with him for a while as he cupped his face and cried.  He asked if we could sit outside.  While on the house's front step, Mike confessed to me that he was touched by how I had just made him food without expecting anything from him.  He flooded the porch conversation with examples of how he is used for his money, for his connections in the music scene, used for a lot, and here he is, starving, feeling lost, coming off of a lot, and I just made him food.  He stated he grew up with very harsh realities, many of which he would never speak of, but this gesture, my meal, touched him so much it hurt.  He thanked me, hugged me for a long time, then went in and finished all his food. I learned later that Mike also had a child, something he was tormented by because he had the child when he was a young teen and was still trying to figure out how to be a father.  Mike had a lot going on, and suddenly, I began to see him with softer, gentler eyes.

When Jeremy died, Mike became my rock.  It was quick and strange because I still teased him with the "disco Mike" comments, just not as often.  Mike D wasn't close with Jeremy, but was close with Jeremy's best friend, Trevor.  Mike knew how broken we were, and because he wasn't close to Jeremy, I believe that distance allowed him to be all of our rocks for that moment.  I am grateful for his gifts of love back then. I still feel them.  

I was in my room, lying next to my bed, a mattress on the floor. I never got a proper bedroom set for college, but at least I got a mattress. I couldn’t even lie on the mattress. I was so overwhelmed with shock.  It had been a few days since Jeremy died.  The family was in touch with Allie, but Allie was barely talking, so nobody really knew when the services would be. To get to Allie's room, you had to go through my room, and we both had been in separate rooms for days.  I didn't want to move from where I was due to grief and fear that I would miss Allie finally coming down the stairs into my room.  I desperately wanted to comfort Allie, but Allie was inconsolable.  Whatever actually happened that night was still a mystery, but what was coming to the surface was that there might have been a relapse and drug use involved.  I felt no judgment or anger toward Allie, just love.  Allie could do no wrong in my eyes; I loved her. I still do.

It was late afternoon, and I only knew this because the curtain's shadow was highlighted by the setting sun. I heard the door open and close behind me. It had been several days since I noticed that sound. I wondered who it could be, but I had no strength to investigate. I closed my eyes to squish more tears out. I had been crying on and off for days.  

"Jen, get up. Get up and put on those cute little red pants you wear. We are going bowling."  

I lay in my underwear, keeping my eyes closed, trying to guess who was there. In my head, I decided it was Mike D, but when I opened my eyes, I was still shocked to see that it was actually Mike D.  

"What are you doing here? What do you mean?  We cannot leave. Nobody is okay, Mike D. Jeremy died, man."  I muffled under my breath. "I know, that's why I am here.  Trevor told me you all haven't moved for days.  He's worried, your ex is worried, and everyone who loves you worries about you three.  I am here to be the tough love you all need right now.  Get your cute butt up and let's go. I'll go up and talk to Allie."  Mike stated as he marched up to the attic.

Magically, Disco Mike got Allie, Heather,  Cat, and me to agree to bowl with him and his band.  Disco Mike retained his nickname, but now for his magical and loving energy.