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His hand tugs on your forearm, grip never loosening as he runs ahead and you try to blink the sleep from your eyes, the world alternating between deep black and dull, morning grey as you do so. You flinch as you feel your foot stepping into soft grass and wet dew, already cold enough from being thrown into the sharp air and the slight wind tickling your bare arms and legs, almost threatening to slide underneath your thin pyjamas. But before your body can even let out a shiver, Jake is pulling you along, and the warmth of his palm and the ghost of a feeling of his arm compel you to keep up with him.
You drowsily, vaguely remember agreeing to this – some dismissive concession you never thought he’d remember and take any further – and the jury’s still out on whether it was a good idea or not.
His hazy shadow, just a touch darker than the starless sky and the plain fields, has a spring in its step and you wonder, as you almost stumble over your own feet, how the fuck he has so much energy. Neither of you were even awake five minutes ago, yet here he is. Grinning back at you as though you were his lifeforce, and you know it sounds ridiculous but you swear his eyes sparkle with their deep forest green, catching stray rays of light in the pre-dawn darkness. Your breath catches in your throat and you need to consciously remind yourself to keep moving and stay balanced on the uneven grass.
You sense the ground shifting upwards, and this time you do actually slow down and pull Jake back a bit. It’s not that you can’t keep up with him, because you most definitely can, but it really has only been several minutes and you still miss the warmth of your bed, so you don’t want to. Anyway, shouldn’t you be savouring the moment or something? You take the opportunity to run a little closer to him, and he concedes and slows his pace a little, still smiling at you.
When you finally make it to the crest of the hill, you’re panting. You realise belatedly that you probably shouldn’t be wearing your binder while exercising, but hell if you care, because Jake now has his arm around you and is sitting you down on the grass, the blades tickling your legs gently. You just make a mental note to take it easy on the way back.
Jake crouches down in front of you and tries to look past your shades. “You doing alright?” he asks softly, barely more than a whisper, as though afraid to break the stillness and quietness surrounding you both. You simply nod in response, so he sits himself down next to you and scoots in close, your bodies touching, and you hate to admit you’re grateful not just for the warmth.
You both sit in a comfortable silence as the sky gradually lightens from a dark grey to a slightly lighter grey. You figure you might as well focus on your surroundings and relax, trying not to think about how if you had to be up this early, you could at least be getting some homework done. So you attempt, with mild success, to quell the buzzing in your brain. The rest of the world is motionless, aside from a few chirps from some birds. The wind, keen to threaten you with hypothermia earlier, relaxes and settles for rolling gently down the grass below you and onto the great expanse of the lake. The world is still mostly drained of colour but the water lapping at the edge of the bank teases a hint of navy if you squint at it.
You turn to consider the boy sitting next to you: leaning slightly backwards, all dark tousled hair and a softly curved back and solid, strong arms and an ever-increasingly handsome face. Not that you’ve been keeping track over the past few years or anything. And anyway, you’re sure the girls have noticed it too, how he’s shed his cute layer of chub to reveal high cheekbones and a jawline you would die for. The elegance of his face is almost always at odds with his goofy, free behaviour though – including when he’s trying to be suave, you can always see past that act – and often has you hiding endearing snickers at him. You might have grown older, but none of you have really changed much since you first met as scared children, years and years ago, all crowded into one large hall with countless other kids, all glancing at each other with apprehension and uncertainty. Roxy is still Roxy, and Jane is still Jane, and Jake is still wonderful, and you…
Well, you suppose you have changed to the others. Not that anything changed between you, as you spent endless and countless nights fearing it would, but. At least they know who you are now, and they adjusted far quicker than you ever could have let yourself hope for.
You reach back to pull your hair into its usual ponytail, deftly slipping a hairband off your wrist, and the movement attracts Jake’s attention enough for him to send you a glance. You make eye contact by accident and are caught off guard for a second before you remember he can’t tell that you were already staring at him. Thank fuck for these shades. Or can he tell? You’re inclined towards his direction, but…maybe you were just looking at the forest behind him. Or the sky? No, dumbass, the sky is the same on your side too. Shit. Whatever the case, even if he did notice, he makes no form of acknowledgement, so it probably doesn’t matter. You fight the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks.
He’s smiling softly at you, so you grin back and when your hands come down from your hair you lay one delicately over his fingers, pressing them into the grass. He wasn’t expecting that because he twitches by reflex, but then relaxes and makes no move to pull away. He looks at you properly and teases, “Ready to admit this was a good idea yet?”
Well. “As much as I enjoy sitting on some hill with you, freezing my ass off at 6am instead of being in bed, Jake, nothing’s actually happened yet. It’s still dark as a crypt and I sure as hell don’t see any inkling of a sun yet.” You keep faith in him though, and there’s no way you’ll bail out now that you’re here, so there’s no weight behind your words, and you know that Jake knows you well enough to know this.
He tuts at you. “Patience, Dirk! You’re like a restless puppy, the type that has new demands before you’ve even had a chance to satisfy their first one. And anyhow, the fresh air’s great, you don’t get into the great outdoors nearly often enough. You must admit this is a whole lot calmer than our dorm is once everyone starts waking up. You must get sick of that buffoonery every single morning, I know I do!” You maintain your poker face. “Also, pal, there may not be any great big flaming ball in the sky yet, but it’s starting to lighten up and y’know how you could follow suit?”
You’re still trying to determine if that was a rhetorical question or not, when all of a sudden he leans over you and uses his free hand to pluck your shades off your face. You’re left staring in shock at his wide grin and his now-colourful eyes, a part of your brain registering that they almost match the field around you, before the rest of your brain catches up. Face pulled into a scowl, you try to grab them back but he’s a step ahead of you, leaning away and raising his hand on the other side of him, far above his head. You still think it’s unfair that he’s now taller than you, although you were never surprised – of course he fucking would be, you barely grew more than the girls, what did you expect?
You consider trying to reach over or tackle him – you happen to know, for reasons, that Jake is incredibly ticklish – but the risk of damaging your shades in the ensuing mayhem is high and one you’re not quite willing to take. So instead, you just bore into him the most imposing glare you can muster. People have commented on how intense your unusual eyes can be, but you’re honestly not certain if it still works well on him anymore, after so long. If it does, he doesn’t let it show, grin still firm in his face and arm still confidently raised in the air.
“Jake English,” you enunciate slowly and clearly, “if those come back to me with so much as half a scratch, I am going to skin you alive and feed you, piece by piece, to the lake fish, and laugh. Think of how distraught Roxy and Jane would be.” You keep your tone low and dead serious as he defiantly holds your gaze, unmoving.
Then, in a flash, his face is hovering right in front of yours, all up in your personal space, and you inadvertently take a breath of the tension in the short space of air between you. Fighting the rising panic and the heartbeat in your throat, you refuse to break eye contact, but he speaks before you can ascertain his intentions. “Kinky!!” he accuses in a sharp whisper, feigning incredulity. You feel his speech on your cheek and then he’s pulled away as fast as he moved in, smiling wider than ever.
You hate teenagers. “What.” is all you can manage as you try to recover from his proximity. God, you’re so eloquent.
He sends you an exaggerated wink, and at least you can roll your eyes at him while part of your heart keels over and dies. Finally, though, he sets your shades down carefully next to him and assures you that they’ll be as safe as one of the movies he keeps under his pillow. Which is reassuring. You think.
You have to admit that he’s right, though. About there being more colour now, not about what you’re into. You’re also sure that some rays of light have started to slither their way across the sky in the time you were bickering, but the lake is now shimmering, its unbroken pale surface looking like it would shatter with a tap. A few stray clouds have a tinge of pink and purple, and the air itself feels just a little brighter and lighter.
What does not feel lighter is the sudden pressure of Jake fucking leaning against you. He almost melts into you, and you allow yourself to readjust around him too, his head finding the space between your neck and your shoulder. The movement leaves your hand in mid-air, and you think it’s acceptable to loosely wrap your arm around him and place it on his side, so you try doing that. Judging by the small noise of contentment he makes, it’s okay. You swear you will never learn how to act around him.
“There’s no way this is fair in the slightest. You drag me out of bed to come watch a sunrise – and you have known for seven years that I am not and never will be a morning person – and now you’re just gonna sleep on me? The audacity. The impertinence.” You realise your words are entirely at odds with your actions, but it turns out his body is actually very warm, and maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying holding it. He curls into himself, trying to make himself smaller than he is, and you can’t help but smile at him.
“You’ve just gotta move faster next time, then. But I’ve bagsied this space now and there’s not a chance I’m giving it up. Not even for you, Strider.”
Wait. “Next time?” You decide to process any implications from the rest of his words at a much later date.
“Only if you want. But I think you will! I always used to watch the sunrise on my island. It was like a ritual. There really are worse ways to spend a morning, anyhow. Look at all the colours, Dirk! And I think it’s nice to just remind myself of how big the world is sometimes. I mean the way the sky just carries on and on, there’s a bigger picture, and it’s a reminder that everything I was worried or stressed about doesn’t really matter all that much in the long run. I have homework due first period! But the sun just keeps coming up and down, and it doesn’t care, so why should I care if Dr Vantas is about to stick me in a detention?”
You consider this. He has a point, but Jake’s a lot more hopeful than you are, because you can’t help but feel some existential dread pricking your skin at his description of just how large and apathetic the universe is. But you see where he’s coming from, and the sky is quickly becoming alarmingly beautiful; hues of red and orange and pink mingle in fiery clouds and burn the lake.
“Just make sure he doesn’t schedule it during our next D&D session, dude. Roxy will murder the rest of us if you don’t turn up.” That’s not a joke. “But y’know what, yeah, sure, I’ll come again.”
“Really?”
You nod against him. “Maybe we could even invite the girls along. I bet they’d enjoy it too, if we could get them out of bed.”
“Oh, and Jane would totally bring food along and we could have a picnic! By Jove, that’s an idea and a half!”
“You know me. Full of great ideas.” Tentatively, you press the side of your face against his hair, just a brush at first then more firmly when you feel him sigh and relax. It tickles you without your usual plastic protecting your face. He smells like the soil in the forest after it rains, like a freshwater stream, like smooth, worn metal, like the buzz of never-faltering optimism and the tang of imminent adventure.
You’re perfectly aware that that’s not actually possible, but as you breathe it all in, you swear it’s true nonetheless.
For another while, all you do is sit, in each other’s arms, just enjoying the company and the view. At one point, Jake comments, in painstaking detail, on how the dawn matches your eyes, and you pray that he can’t see your face flush as much as you can feel it.
The scenery around your school is straight up idyllic even at the worst of times, with the lake spreading into rolling hills to the East and a thick forest to the South. Bathed in the early sunlight, everything around you feels even more ethereal and intangible, tinted in orange light and charged with energy, a small, safe pocket in the dark, brutal waves of the real world. It’s almost as pretty as the boy in your arms.
By the time it’s fifteen minutes before breakfast (neither of you are even changed yet, goddammit), the sun is proudly and confidently up, and you both agree that you need to get back before the girls start getting suspicious. You stand up and help Jake up, pulling on his wrists until he pops up in front of you. He smiles at you in thanks, and you hold each other’s gazes for a second too long. Oh no.
He’s standing so close to you, you can still feel his body heat, you can see every detail in his face, count his dark freckles, count the specks in his eyes which flick down at your lips, shit. He raises his eyes again and his nervousness is palpable and painful but you’re frozen and you’re also not breathing, you think you’ve forgotten how to. You watch his eyes flick away to the side and that sends a panic through you because you can sense that he’s about to move away and pretend this never happened like you’ve both done every single time before, and in this moment you know that you can’t keep agonisingly doing that forever. So something in you snaps like a glowstick and before he can step back, you close the distance between you and press your mouth against his.
He makes a muffled surprised sound, eyes wide, but he kisses you back before you pull away. Jake English kissed you back. Your knees feel weak and unsteady. You both stand and stare at each other for a second before you break it, looking down and grabbing your shades from his hands then immediately turning and sticking them onto your burning face in a hopeless attempt to hide yourself and disappear into the fucking ground. Behind you, he chuckles, then throws his arm over your shoulder and provides the momentum for you to get your legs working again. You stare at the ground the whole way back, in utter disbelief of what you’ve done.
When Roxy asks why you’re acting weird at breakfast, Jake flashes you a knowing grin and you desperately try to control the adoration leaping through your chest at the sight. All you can do is blush and mumble something about how your cereal is so interesting it’s made you go deaf, and that sends both of them into fits of laughter.