Chapter 28 of 32

chapter twenty-seven - tomorrow

Boys Will Be Boys (v.2)5,527 words~28 min read

chapter twenty-seven — tomorrow

THE SKY WAS OVERCAST. I couldn't quite match the color to anything— it was too gray and too expansive to think about, so I focused on the little flurries the wind kicked up when it blew over the fresh sheet of snow we'd gotten that morning. They got stuck on my eyelashes and built up until they melted down my cheeks. I tried catching a few with my tongue because eighteen was only a number and I still felt like a kid.

"How does it feel to be a man, Kieran?"

I can't feel anything right now.

Fionnuala punched me in the shoulder, her shovel slung over her own like a grave robber. She had a thick hat on, hands protected by way-too-thin gloves that barely covered her wrists.

"Cold," I sniffed heavily, bending down to throw more snow onto the small bank building up on the side of our driveway. It looked a bit like a fluffy fence, and, when the temperatures dropped below zero, it would probably solidify into something impenetrable. When I was younger, I would've gone to Dad's to build forts with Daniel, but it all seemed like too much work now. For all I knew, Dad had probably just used his snowblower and scraped the driveway clean with too much road salt.

"Right," Fionnuala rolled her eyes, shoving me a bit before helping me with an icier patch, the metal of her shovel scraping at the asphalt rhythmically.

"Well, let me know when those magic eighteen-year-old powers kick in, birthday boy."

"I'm eighteen, not five," I scowled, trying to tuck my nose under the scarf Mum had wrapped around my face, "Stop talking about magic."

Fionnuala cackled, squatting low before forcing an abnormally large amount of snow into her shovel. She flung it over the wall I'd made, the wind pushing back and sending tiny pieces back at us as the pile dismantled mid-flight. I spluttered, blinking fast as they melted in my eyes, joining the others on their track down my cheeks, absorbing into my scarf. Normally, the cold was fine— I could handle it after basketball games just fine.

But without adrenaline, the drop in temperature was brutal, and the wind became a bitch.

I stopped to huddle over as the wind responded to my insult violently, almost collapsing the entire pile that lined the driveway. Fionnuala, invincible as she was, joined me, our heads ducked behind the snow back, eyes squeezed shut so tight we saw colors. It was my turn to pat her shoulder, the mutual kick I gave to her shovel returned with a smile as we tried picking the pace up. Our driveway was long and (unnecessarily) winded, and snow loved to blanket it in thick sheets that hid more layers of black ice.

"We should s-sing a song," Fionnuala suggested, taking a break to sprinkle road salt over the small part of the driveway we'd already cleaned. Her teeth chattered loudly and I bit down, hard, trying not to mimic her.

"No, f-fuck that," I shook my head, hefting another shovel full of snow up and over the snow wall.

"F-fine," She threw a powdery handful of snow at me, cackling when the bitchy wind blew it past my scarf and down the back of my neck. I jumped up, neck twisting as I tried not to squeal at the melting water running down the slope of my shoulder blades.

"I was trying to motivate you," She huffed, hacking at a particularly stuck patch with the edge of her shovel.

"Thanks, b-but no thanks. I don't need any motivation," I let some of the snow in my shovel fall out over where she was working, avoiding her furious glare. I punched the snow pile next, wincing when the tippy top broke and crumbled back down into the driveway. I nudged it against the side and patted it down, hoping it wouldn't be too obtrusive.

"Suit yourself," She snickered, reveling in my misery, "Not everyone c-can experience the joy of Caoimhe's hot chocolate."

Oh, true. I started to shovel a little quicker, remembering the warmth that the indoors promised. And Mum's hot chocolate— how could I have forgotten? Mum was an abysmal cook, but her hot chocolate could make Jesus rise.

"H-how do you even know about that?"

"Hmm?" Fionnuala paused again, passing me the bag of rock salt so we could spread it over the now-exposed asphalt. It helped make sure the ice didn't form overnight, and, more importantly, that Mum didn't break her leg trying to bring the mail inside. Mum's aptitude at tripping, even on clean, dry asphalt, was the main reason she wasn't allowed to shovel— that and her absolute incapability to withstand the cold.

Normally, I'd do it myself, but now I had Fionnuala.

"How do you know about her hot chocolate? You've n-never had it," I asked again, fumbling a little when the bag shifted in my arms. It was kind of heavy, but I treated it like a conditioning exercise (heavy weight and limited oxygen consumption).

Fionnuala laughed like I was an idiot and I scowled, depositing a little too much salt in one area, and not enough in another.

"Caoimhe might be your mother, Kieran, but she w-was my best friend."

Fionnuala flicked some salt where I'd missed it, her eyes focused on the overcast sky above us. I wondered how she could perfectly pinpoint where there was too much salt and where there was too little if she wasn't even watching the ground. What if she slips and breaks her arm?

"What do you mean 'was'?"

"What's this?" Fionnuala laughed again, finally looking at me, "An interrogation?"

"Did you guys stop being best friends?" I frowned, feeling the bag slump over and letting it, a small trickle of salt started to pour out by my feet.

"We never stopped," She shrugged, quickly stooping to right the bag so it didn't waste any more salt.

"We just never continued."

That doesn't make any sense.

Fionnuala idly spread the salt with the toe of her boot and I did the same, kicking the chunkier parts so they split. One crystal shattered, tiny specks of road salt splashing up onto my pants and clinging to the fabric desperately.

"But Mum was excited to see you," I scowled, thinking back to when Ms. Keisha had brought Fionnuala over as Mum's birthday present. That sounds weird.

"It didn't seem like you were strangers."

"We're strangers, Kieran," Fionnuala bit down on her lip, like she was debating if she wanted to continue.

"But we're still friends."

I blinked.

"Nothing can make up for twenty-nine years of silence," She scratched at her cheek, snow melting down her cheeks in rivulets, "but you know what's great about finding your person?"

"Your person?"

"Yeah," Fionnuala grinned, all big and cheesy, "Caiomhe's my person. Even after twenty-nine years without her, and even though we've both changed, we still find a way to love each other."

"Love?" I repeated back at Fionnuala, hollowly. This was too much conversation for an overcast morning: My brain wasn't functioning.

"Don't make a big deal out of it, Kieran," Fionnuala snorted, picking up her shovel and traipsing to the place we'd left off at. She stuck the head of her shovel under the layer of snow, arms tensing as she dug it up from where it had rooted in the driveway. It hit the top of the wall on its way over, knocking more snow over to the yard.

"Friends can love each other. Why not?"

Why not? "Oh."

I shuffled around, using my boots to break the semi-formed ice sheets. My breath curled up and around my head before dissipating. When I was younger, I used to mimic Dad and pretend I was smoking. Daniel used to do it too, but he swapped the cold for an actual cigarette when we hit sophomore year. I hadn't swapped it for anything, but everything seemed to bear down and condense on my shoulders as of late and I contemplated the stress-relieving abilities of fake smoke.

The wind blew again and I gave up trying to violently force a mound of snow onto my shovel, propping it up and then leaning against it. I squinted, flurries clustering on my eyelashes once more before dragging downwards and passing over my cheek. My scarf felt wet. Is that Lukas' car?

The familiar car moved slowly, wheels not completely trusting of the just-paved road leading down to my house. The man with a snowplow lived a few houses down, so our street, though small and forgotten, was always paved in time. One of the car's ancient windows rolled down and Fionnuala stopped her shoveling as well, sidling up next to me stiffly since she had snow pants on.

"Hey there, Fionnuala, Kieran!" Mrs. Schmitt's head popped out of the passenger seat, blonde hair a storm around her head as the wind blew again. She quickly rolled the window back up and exited the car, meeting Fionnuala and me by the massive snow wall at the end of our driveway.

My eyes locked onto the boy in the car, his eyes elsewhere as he fiddled with something on the dashboard.

"Mind taking some dead weight off my hands?" Mrs. Schmitt joked, far too happy for someone whose nose was the same color as a Hubba Bubba strip.

"Why?" Fionnuala laughed, "Lukas not helping with your driveway?"

"He would have, but the girls got to it first."

"I'm not surprised."

Neither was I. Lukas' sisters loved the snow and their parents only let them play when the driveway was clean. I wondered how many bribes it took to get Elizabeth to wake up early enough to shovel. Probably a lot. Michael swore Elizabeth slept like the dead.

"Ach," Fionnuala shrugged, looking my way, "We might as well take him off your hands."

"I hoped you'd say that," Mrs. Schmitt smiled at me, "The house gets too loud sometimes, you know?"

And ours got too quiet.

Fionnuala chuckled and nodded, smiling at me and then back at Mrs. Schmitt. I wondered how their lips didn't crack off in the cold, pulled taut, and craggled from smiling so often.

"Happy birthday, by the way, Kieran."

I nodded, mumbling a thanks into my scarf. Mrs. Schmitt didn't seem to mind that I wasn't looking at her, continuing the conversation as if I was paying attention.

"It's a shame the weather is bad. Hannah was looking forward to your birthday party."

I don't have birthday parties.

"Hannah?" I chuckled, finally tearing my gaze away from the car. Lukas, the lumbering idiot, hadn't looked up once, probably too panicked about parking on a slick street.

"Yeah," Mrs. Schmitt snorted, waving her hand in front of her face as snowflakes began to cling to her as well, "She misses playing basketball in the park with you."

"I miss it too."

Silence passed between us, my eyes flitting around as Mrs. Schmitt's familiar warm gaze bore into my skull.

After a few more seconds of awkwardness, she made an about-face, marching back to the car before banging on the driver's side door.

"Get out, Lukas! Why're you taking so long? The car isn't going anywhere."

I snickered, Finnuala's shoulders shaking beside me as Lukas finally made an appearance. His hair was all squashed under a hat, a raggedy pompom on top like a cherry. Lukas waved awkwardly at Fionnuala and me, hugging his mom stiffly (they looked like two Michelin Men attacking each other) before waddling over to the driveway.

"The muscle's here!" Fionnuala cheered, tossing her shovel at Lukas. He caught it over the snow wall, a tiny little smile on his face. It grew slowly as I stared, his mouth opening wide to yell over the wind.

"Happy birthday, Keke!"

"You know I'm stronger than him, right?" I turned to Fionnuala, my lips wobbling as I shoved my face further under my scarf to hide my laugh. Lukas looked lost from the other side of the wall, brown eyes wide and confused as to why I was ignoring him.

Fionnuala rolled her eyes, "Rude little shit."

"That's me."

"Right, well," She poked me in the forehead, turning to wave at a now-frowny Lukas.

"I'm going inside to have some hot chocolate! Have fun shoveling!"

It's my birthday, but I'm stuck shoveling. I scowled, kicking at my shovel before shoving it in a snow pile off to the side. I could feel Lukas' stare on my back and I pointedly ignored it for no other reason than he hadn't looked up when I'd stared at the car for two minutes. Normally he got that stuff and our eyes would connect immediately.

Stupid Lukas, I kicked at the snow, gnawing at my lip as a little pool of guilt flooded my gut. Fionnuala said Mum was her person. I wonder if Mum and Finn share, like, thoughts?

Lukas and I shared thoughts, sometimes: Like when I was skipping class and roaming the hallways and he'd bump into me on the way back from the restroom. It couldn't only be a coincidence if it happened every day.

I couldn't remember what that was called. Telemetry?

"Keke, can you not hear me?"

Maybe it's telepotty?

"Keke?"

Sounds close enough. Telepity.

"Kieran?"

Shit. I melted a little and turned, pulling my scarf down to apologize. I hated it when Lukas used my full name like that. Like he was all sad and droopy. I didn't like it when Lukas was all sad and droopy.

"Lukas— Lukas, what the fu—?!"

Lukas didn't give me a chance to apologize, his giant self (thankfully, without the shovel) flying over the snow wall and at me like a strange new breed of flying squirrel. His eyes widened, both of us locking gazes: him mid-flight and me mid-regret for having ever ignored him.

Oomph.

We hit the snow pile, my body sinking into it as Lukas' knees knocked dangerously close to my groin. The thicker layer of snow pants saved my balls from instant death, Lukas' hands falling through the snow around my shoulders so he headbutted me in the chest. I blinked, completely pinned under his weight, before scowling and accepting my fate. My best friend is an idiot.

"Are you okay?" A squeak, muted against my jacket. I rolled my eyes.

If love was forgiving someone for tackling you into the snow on your birthday, I guess I love him or something. It didn't sound any less weird than when Fionnuala had said it, but it didn't feel like a lie either. Friends can love each other, right? If love was forgiving someone for knocking you into a pile of snow—

"—I'm fine, Lukas," I scowled up at the overcast sky, the back of my neck illegally cold and wet. I cringed, shuffling further up against Lukas and then back down again when I realized he wasn't budging.

"Lukas, you okay?"

We have to be each other's person.

I moved my shoulders, nudging him a bit, worried that he hadn't immediately sprung off me. His head shifted, chin point digging into my jacket as he glanced up at me. Snow dripped off little wisps of hair that had escaped from his hat, his lips chapped and pink from the cold.

"I'm fine," His voice sounded monotone, the muscle in his neck sloping and contracting as he swallowed, "but I just tackled you into a mound of snow."

"Yes," I nodded as much as I could, "Yes, you did." But it's okay, I forgive you.

"On your birthday."

"Yes. Thank you."

He blinked before groaning a loud apology and settling his head back onto my chest in shame. Feel shame, I chastised the pompom on his hat, wrinkling my nose when a loose fiber escaped it and tickled the tip of it. Feel shame for tackling the birthday boy, the bitchy wind returned, howling around our accidental snow cave.

"I have to be home for dinner," Lukas murmured, another sacrilege that made me scowl deeper.

After a minute of shameful introspection, Lukas yanked his hands out of where they'd sunk into the snow, using my chest as leverage to pull himself up. His knees sunk further into the snow, face contorted in confusion as I followed him up, slipping and sinking back into the snow pile. He fell on top of me again, catching himself on my shoulders before he could slam his forehead into mine.

"Uh," His eyes were wide and I leaned up and closer, trying to make out my reflection in the thin sheen of his contacts. My hair was messy, also wet now, and stuck to the back of my neck.

"Happy birthday?"

"Is this my gift? Getting tackled into the snow?"

Lukas chuckled nervously.

I rolled my eyes, using what little strength was left in my arms to flip him off of me and to the side. I collapsed back into my snow mold, swiveling my head to the right as Lukas snuggled deeper into the snow pile with a content sigh. I caught sight of the tip of his nose, his eyes slowly coming into view as he fidgeted more to get closer to where I was.

"Sorr—"

"—Lukas?" I interrupted him, my left arm pushing against the snow in a lackluster attempt at a snow angel.

"Yeah?"

"If," I gulped a little too loudly, worming my mouth out from under my scarf so I didn't feel as warm. Why am I so warm?

"If, when you graduate," I tried again, "We don't see each other for twenty-nine years—"

"—That's oddly specific, Keke—"

"—would we still be friends when we meet after that?"

Lukas' brow crinkled in confusion and he rolled his head back so he could look up at the sky. I followed suit, frowning when the gray-blue of the clouds did little to distract me. How ugly. I didn't want to see the clouds anymore, even if they brought snow days with them. I wanted the sky and the sun.

I wanted to practice basketball with Hannah again and see the little smile on Lukas' face whenever she'd make a basket. Lukas smiled a lot, but they were all different: happy smiles, fake smiles, proud smiles, and those smiles. The ones specially reserved for random moments where his eyes would get all faraway looking and his shoulders would slump down, relaxed.

"I think we'll always be friends, Keke," Lukas spoke so softly I almost couldn't hear him. His arm pushed through the snow to nudge at my side and I squirmed closer to it so I could swat at his face in vengeance. I hid a palmful of snow in my hand.

"But I think that's a stupid question."

I let the snow slide from my hand.

"What? Why's it stupid?"

"'Cause there's no way we would just not talk for twenty-nine years," Lukas frowned, rolling onto his side to fully face me. I did the same, my eyes falling onto the little wrinkle in between Lukas' eyebrows and reveling in the warmth in between our bodies.

"Well, it's possible—"

"—Nope," Lukas poked my nose with a gloved hand and I coughed, laughing and dodging his jabs.

"I wouldn't let that happen. I'd fucking stalk you."

"No you wouldn't, you—That's dumb," I sputtered through a mouthful of snow, rolling to my feet as they magically became free from the snow pile.

"It's dumb to think I'd ever stop being your friend," Lukas blinked innocently before launching a snowball at me, the small mass falling apart before it could hit me.

"You're stuck with me."

"No, you're stuck with me."

I tackled Lukas back into the snow pile and our shovels lay forgotten in the driveway.

Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ

"Remind me again why the driveway isn't shoveled?"

"The wind blew it all back when we finished," I lied through my teeth, sipping a hot chocolate and meeting Fionnuala's gaze evenly. Lukas flushed, warm and pink, off to the side and determinedly avoided Fionnuala's suspicion.

"Right," Fionnuala clicked her tongue against her teeth, giving up and trudging out of the kitchen to rejoin Mum in the living room.

I sniffed loudly, ducking my head down to breathe in the soft steam from my hot chocolate. Lukas did the same, an exaggerated, snotty noise leaving his mouth as he hacked a half-cough half-laugh when I looked at him. He smiled, watery-eyed, and blinked a few times so I wouldn't think he was dying. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it, knowing full-well who was calling.

"So, did you actually get me a present or nah?"

Lukas snorted again, gasping when the hot chocolate burned down his throat. His tongue turned bright pink, matching the dry skin of his mouth as he made weird hissing noises to soothe the burn. I rolled my eyes, passing him my glass of water because Lukas could be dramatic sometimes.

"You good?"

"Yeah, fine," Lukas gulped down whatever had remained in my glass, before shooting me a suspicious look of his own, "Did you want me here just for my present?"

"Your presence is better than most presents, Lukas— Oh, that rhymed."

"You're a rhyming legend, Keke," Lukas raised his glass in a mock sláinte, blowing at his hot chocolate before braving it like a man and finishing it quickly.

"And thank you very much."

"Yeah, sure, but you still got me a present right?"

"Of course I did."

"Where is it?"

Lukas frowned, "I'm feeling very used right now."

"It's all in your head," I waved him off, "I don't even need presents."

"So, hypothetically, if I didn't have a present—"

"—You're dead to me."

Lukas gasped, then shrieked as he ducked my lunge. Pushing out of the chair, he circled the kitchen island, eyeing me suspiciously as I tried to get close enough to noogie him or something. The whole point of circling each other around the kitchen island wasn't really to catch, it was more for the adrenaline in the chase. I scowled at Lukas from across the table, almost letting a smile slip out when he blew a lame raspberry at me, darting for the stairs. My phone pinged with a message and I ignored it again, my stomach queasy as Lukas' silhouette retreated up the steps.

I gave him a head start, cracking my head against the wall with a laugh as his socked feet slipped on the stairs twice.

"Oi, be careful in there—"

I ignored Fionnuala, climbing up the stairs on all fours as Lukas finally reached the top, turning and collapsing against my door into a fit of giggles. Giggles. His face was flushed pink, hand loosely scrabbling for my doorknob as I weakly went for his feet, still kneeling on the ground.

Lukas gave up a sock, but nothing else, running into my room and picking a pillow up for defense.

"You leave me no choice, Keke," He raised the pillow above his head, breath coming out in quiet little gasps, lips stretched too wide.

I snorted, cheeks strained, but I couldn't stop smiling.

"What? You gonna smack me with a pillow on my birthday?"

Lukas frowned, dropping the pillow, "No, I guess not."

And that settled it. I thwacked Lukas once across the face with my best pillow, taking great joy in the squinted bark of laughter that left his mouth on impact. He swayed on his feet, once, twice, before rolling onto my bed and splaying out like a starfish. Lukas' arms stretched across the bed, almost long enough for him to grip the edges of the mattress.

I hopped onto the bed, forcing him to jump up before we finally worked out comfortable enough positions to lay in.

"I do actually have a present for you," Lukas hummed, his neck warm and vibrating against the sliver of skin my shirt exposed. His cheek smashed into my shirt, lips weird and pouty as he fished his phone from his pocket.

"It's kinda lame," He confessed, passing me the phone. I strained my neck to look at his expression, shrugging and laying back down. Any present Lukas got me would be nice, he was a good present-giver and I was a good present-receiver. We fit together like puzzle pieces really.

"It's a basketball fail compilation," My lips quirked up, "Of our team?"

Lukas grinned at that, hiding his smile in the gap by my side and the mattress.

"Yeah," He cleared his throat, "It's mostly Marco and Ahmed."

"Of course it is," I snorted, pressing play and smiling as the terrible-quality video came to life.

Fifteen minutes passed, filled with all of the past three years' best moments— not all of them were basketball-related, but all of them joined together with a shitty iMovie transition. There was Marco, hobbling around on the court without one shoe (they called a technical foul on him though it wasn't his fault he'd forgotten his other shoe), and DJ trying to conspicuously pick out a wedgie without realizing he had been captured in 4k definition.

Ahmed's greatest basketball moment to date had been when he'd deliberately pissed off a rival by accidentally stepping on his laces a whole bunch of times, and each sneaky attempt had been snuck into the video, filmed and taken from a shaky Snapchat story. A few shorter videos had been sprinkled throughout— most of them just Lukas' siblings running away from him with a camera and a wide grin.

"Happy Birthday Kieran!" The triplets shouted, not in unison, with smears of icing on their mouths.

"Happy Birthday—can you teach me how to spin a basketball on my finge—?"

"—Hannah, don't hog the camera—Hi, Kieran! It's Elisabeth, the better Schmitt, and I'm here with Michael to wish you a very Happy Birthday— say 'Happy Birthday' Michael!"

The camera was suddenly obscured with a pair of very bright, green contacts. Michael blanched, blinking at the camera several times before smiling and waving.

"Uh, yeah, Happy Birthday Kieran!"

The camera jolted away from him and clattered onto the floor. Lukas flushed, apologizing for the shitty editing, which wasn't even shitty in the slightest. The sound of squeaky arguments and squealing kids took up another five seconds of the video. I laughed harder, barely able to feel my stomach function as I covered my eyes. They were tearing up, and I felt Lukas' hands cover mine in a haphazard attempt at wiping the mess away from my face so I could continue watching the video.

"Oh my god, just ask him out already—"

"—I thought I cut that part out—shit—dammit—" Lukas pried the phone from my hands, face flushed radioactive red as he tried to pause. Nadine's petulant face was frozen on the screen, arms crossed and mouth pursed tight. He laughed, high and pitched, and my gut churned funny because Lukas never laughed like that.

"Who ask who?" I asked dumbly, not quite understanding Lukas' reaction.

"Uh," Lukas blinked slowly before sitting up, hands bunched in the sheets underneath them. He suddenly looked small, almost like he'd shrunk into the shadows of my room and I sat up too to meet him halfway, his eyes avoiding mine.

"Whatever, I don't need to kno—"

"—They wanted me to ask you, Kieran."

Huh? I looked up, my mind still filled with images of poorly played basketball and ears ringing with the sound of violent little girls. Lukas' eyes finally met mine, his lips set into a grim, determined line as he waited for my judgment. My judgment. My judgment of what? Him?

He was Lukas, my best friend, what could I— how could he—?

"Lukas—I—are you—" Fuck. The words I needed to say wouldn't come out, and I couldn't figure out which words I wanted to say. What can I say? What am I trying to say?

Lukas looked very small on the corner of my bed, and his eyes swallowed me whole, scared and hollow.

I don't think I understand.

"Your—Nadine," I started, eye flickering over to where Lukas' foot jerked off the bed, his shoulder taut like he was ready to run, "Nadine wanted you to ask me out?"

"Yes," Lukas nodded, determined, but stone-faced. The expression looked unnatural on him and I fought the urge to squish his cheeks up, pull his lips into a smile so it went back to how it had just been. If I was dumb, I'd have thought that Nadine wanted Lukas to ask me out on her behalf, but I wasn't stupid, and slowly the pieces of the puzzle I'd never seen started to fall together. Lukas likes me?

I like Lukas too, but I had a sinking feeling that our likes were much different from each other.

My phone started to buzz, the noise muted in my pocket. Lukas looked at it, then at me, slipping further off the edge of the bed and away from me.

"You've been ignoring that all day," His brows knit in concern, "It's your dad, right?"

My hand closed over the phone guiltily.

"It's no one important, Lukas—"

"—I gotta go, my mom wants me back soon," Lukas smiled, small and soft, "I hope I didn't ruin your birthday."

You could never ruin anything, Lukas.

"No, you—Why, why did Nadine want you to ask me out?"

Lukas was at the door, pulling his sock back on, pants half-rucked up to his calf. Blond hair in disarray, his head looked like a little mushroom, backlit with the hallway light.

"'Cause I like you, you idiot."

Friends can love each other sure, but what happens when their love doesn't match?

"See you in school," Lukas smiled like he was saying sorry, blinking a little too fast until I realized I was doing the same, "Rest up. We have practice tomorrow."

"You didn't let me finish saying anything," I scowled at Lukas, muting my phone with finality.

"Then say it," He raised an eyebrow, face impassive and hands tucked into trembling fists.

That's not fair. Lukas had given me no time to comprehend. I could barely even understand what had happened in less than a few minutes. Could years of being each other's person fold in less than a minute?

What about twenty-nine years?

"You're—you—" I fumbled with my words like I was in elementary school, tongue tripping faster as Lukas' foot tapped on the floor, jumpy. He was so tightly strung, anything I said would've pulled the trigger and sent him hurtling out of the house.

"Hey," Lukas recaught my attention, walking towards the bed real slow like he was trying not to spook me, "It's not a big deal, okay?"

Don't make a big deal out of it.

"It's just something I have to work out for myself, Keke," Lukas smiled, his hands reaching out like he wanted to pat my shoulder but he pulled them back, second-guessing what would've been a typical reassurance, "Don't worry about it."

"See you tomorrow."

When Lukas left, the snow outside trickled in and froze to my pillow in slabs as thick as ice packs. My phone battery drained in the cold, and the windows shook with the force of the winter storm outside.

______________________________________________________________________________

5213 words

Ah, um, hello there.

So, as many of you may have noticed, I've been gone for a while. This chapter honestly didn't feel too good while I was writing it, and I apologize if the ending seems kinda cringy and messy, but now that it's out of my system I hope the final chapters can be written up quickly and easily! There's a lot I want to do with this series (and with my life) that I'm not able to do right now, but I'll get there one day!

Also, I just wanted to thank everyone who reached out/ waited patiently this whole time for this update. I apologize if it wasn't worth the six-month hiatus, but I hope to make it up to all of you in the future with the next updates. Thank you so much for your undying support, it's made getting back into writing so much easier on me and I genuinely appreciate you all very much!

Even though I didn't vibe with this chapter too much...

How did you like this chapter?

A few notes before I depart mysteriously again:

1. I'm taking a break between BWBB and Marco & DJs story, but I'm thinking of posting little short chapters that didn't make the cut during BWBBv.1 and v.2 during my break. Would you guys be interested in those?

2. I've been posting fanfiction on AO3 (mainly just Haikyuu!!) as a way to continue my writing off-Wattpad. Would you guys be interested in knowing more about that?

3. This chapter's title was cheesily inspired by the musical 'Annie'

As always, please stay safe and have an amazing week! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you continue to enjoy this story, and, if not, find others that you will enjoy.

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