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The wind pushes through Roman's hair as he speeds down towards the pier. His bike jostles and the wheels screech beneath him as he gains momentum, plummeting in the direction of the dock, the one that oversees the lake. The water is too bright to look at, the late afternoon sun sending reflections searing off of the surface. Roman squints, hands gripping the rubber handlebars like they're his lifeline, fighting their urge to turn with every bump on the uneven ground. The large oak tree grows rapidly in front of him as he approaches, racing towards him at marvelous speed. Roman is mere feet away from it when he pulls the brakes as hard as he can. His bike skids to a stop with an inertia that almost sends Roman flying right over the handlebars. He manages to not hit the tree, but it's terribly close, and Roman is inches away from his nose meeting bark.
He's off the seat in an instant, the metal of the bicycle frame clatters as it hits the ground. It's abandoned without the bat of an eye, as the rider begins a victory dance. Roman pumps his fists into the air as he jumps around, whooping and hollering at a volume that cuts through the quiet of the pier like butter. "I win, I win, na-na-na-na-na-na!" Roman sings, as another bike rolls unevenly to a stop beside his own discarded one.
Patton drapes himself over the front of his bicycle as he puffs for breath. "It's not fair! You're so much faster than me, I can't keep up!" Patton's voice is breathless and gaspy.
Roman pauses his celebration for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at his best friend. "Maybe you'd be faster if you didn't have training wheels." Roman teases.
Patton scrunches up his nose, and he pulls himself off of his bike. He sticks his tongue out at Roman, before carefully pushing down the bike stand with his foot, just like his mother taught him to. He kicks at the white training wheels fastened to the back wheel, with a frown.
Roman isn't paying attention anymore, though. He's already turned to the tree, sizing it up with a glint in his eyes, mapping out the best route in his head. He's climbed it before, he knows where the strong branches are. "I'll race you to the top." Roman says, as he digs his toes into the dirt, ready to take off.
He's about to start running when he hears Patton protest behind him. "Wait-- Wait, I'm stuck." Patton's voice strains with effort.
Roman looks over his shoulder, to see Patton struggling with the strap of his helmet. He's tugging on it harshly, unable to get it undone.
"You want some help?" Roman offers, relaxing from his ready-position.
Patton sighs, as his hands drop in defeat. "Okay. Yes, please." He says, rounding his bike to stand closer to the other boy.
Roman walks up to him, and Patton raises his chin to present the clasp to him. Patton looks away, eyes searching the sky as Roman grabs hold of the plastic clasp. The helmet is white, blue, and purple, with Queen Elsa on the side. Roman doesn't have a helmet, he's never worn one, he doesn't think. But, if his parents ever do decide to get him one, he thinks he'd like to have a Disney one too. Maybe he'd get Anna, so that they can match. Or, maybe he'd get Lightning McQueen, 'cause he's so fast. And he's red. Red is Roman's favourite.
He holds the holding part of the clasp steady with one hand, and he pinches the forked side with all his might. He fumbles with it for a moment, apologizing quickly when his knuckles push a little too forcefully against Patton's jaw. "It's okay." Patton reassures him. The clasp clicks undone moments later.
"There." Roman says, as the open ends of the rough strap fall away from each other, and he steps back.
"Thanks." Patton eases the helmet off of his head, and sets it on top of the bike seat. His dusty blonde curls fall free, some poking up at odd angles, disgruntled from the headgear. He fixes his glasses, the lenses are big and round, held in place by thin gold wires.
"Threetwoonego!" Roman shouts.
Before Patton can even turn all the way around, Roman has taken off towards the tree. If he'd been a cartoon, there'd certainly be a cloud of dust left behind him as he tears towards the oak.
"Wha-- Hey!" Patton says. Immediately, he starts chasing after him.
"Last one there's a rotten egg!" Roman calls over his shoulder. He's already scaling the branches expertly.
Of course, Roman reaches the sitting branch first. The sitting branch is the long thick one that protrudes out about two-thirds of the way up the tree's trunk. He scootches over to make sure Patton has room to sit beside him, and he settles himself so he feels secure. Once he feels like he can lift his hands without falling, he calls down to Patton triumphantly, who's about three feet below him still. "Ha! Beat you!"
"You had a head start!" Patton exclaims, as he pulls himself finally onto the sitting branch.
This doesn't faze Roman in the slightest. He just laughs. "You're the rotten egg." He taunts.
Patton huffs, dropping himself to sit beside Roman. He juts out his bottom lip, and crosses his arms. "Meanie." He says. Roman just grins wider, nudging his friend with his shoulder. He knows that Patton isn't really upset. This is just normal banter between the two of them. Patton drops his fake pout, holding onto the branch with one hand on either side of himself. He starts to swing his legs a little bit, enjoying the freedom they have by being so far away from the ground.
One of the buckles on Patton's overalls has come undone, likely from the hassle of the climb. So, one of the over-the-shoulder straps hangs down, causing one half of the chest section to drip low, revealing more of Patton's clean white t-shirt. Roman's own shirt has a thick red stripe across the chest, and the rest of it used to be white. It's now stained with mud and grass from all of his past adventures. Patton would sometimes get dirty too, but not often. He always gets scolded when he comes home with rips in the knees of his trousers or scuff marks on the cuffs of the knitted sweaters he sometimes wears. That's because Patton's parents are boring, Roman thinks. Roman's parents don't care if he's made a mess of himself. Roman's parents don't care if he stays outside playing past dinner time. Roman's parents don't always ask where they're going, like Patton's parents always do when Roman asks if their son can come out and play.
Patton is looking out over the water, watching the fishing boats glide across the surface. They make little waves that eventually travel close enough to rock up against the dock below them. This is the boys' favourite spot. It's just past the outskirts of the small town that they live in, a short bike ride away that feels like miles. It feels like they break away from the confines of their lives and escape to a distant land, where everything is quiet, and they can be up high, on top of the whole wide world. They've spent many afternoons in this tree. Sometimes, Roman tries to climb higher and higher, and Patton tells him to come down before he falls. Sometimes, they swing from the branches and pretend to be Tarzan, or Peter Pan, or Robin Hood. Sometimes, they just sit on the sitting branch all afternoon, sometimes they talk on end for hours, sometimes they say nothing at all.
"Roman?" Patton says his name like a tentative question, like he's making sure that Roman's still there.
"Yeah?"
"What's gonna happen when we grow up?" Patton looks down at his swinging legs nervously.
Roman frowns. "What do you mean?"
"You know, when we're adults and stuff. Will we still come down here, do you think?" Patton asks, tapping the toes of his shoes together.
"Yeah, obviously." Roman says, without hesitation.
"But what if we both have kids?" Patton turns to look at Roman. The golden sunlight reflects off of his big round glasses, and his freckles look like cinnamon sprinkled across his cheeks and nose. His forehead is creased a bit with worry lines.
Roman just shrugs. "We'll bring them down here too, then."
"You don't think you'll forget me?"
Roman shakes his head. "No way. Don't worry, Pat. I've got it all figured out."
"You do?"
"Sure." Roman looks out over the horizon with hope and anticipation. It's as if he can see his future lying beyond it. "I'll get married to Cinderella, and we'll have a little boy. You can get married to a princess too, if you want." Roman assures him, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Just not Cinderella, obviously, because I'm already getting married to her. Then you'll have a little boy, and our kids will be best friends just like us. Then we can all come down here together." He finishes. "Easy-peasy."
Patton doesn't say anything for a little while.
Roman looks down, and examines his shoelaces. They've come undone on the left shoe again. The aglets from the end have been worn off completely by this point, and they fray at the ends. The soles of the runners have started to detach from the heels, probably because Roman runs a lot. He runs and runs and runs because it makes him feel like he can fly. The way his hair blows around makes him forget all of his thoughts, all of his thinking about school and his parents. It leaves his mind white, and Roman will put out his arms and pretend he's Superman, on his way to save the girl whose name he always forgets. He usually runs all the way to Patton's house after lunch on the weekends, and he doesn't even care when he gets a stitch in his side.
"Why do people even get married, anyhow?" Patton says, eventually.
Roman breaks from his reverie. He blinks his thoughts away, but keeps his focus on his shoes as he answers. "When you're older, you just have to."
Patton falls silent again for a moment. Then, he asks something else, nervously. Uncertain. "Have you ever kissed someone?"
"Like they do in movies?"
"Uh-huh."
Roman shakes his head. "No. Have you?"
"Nope." Patton says.
"You know, Isabelle tried to kiss me once." Roman says, thoughtfully, referring to a girl in their grade at school.
Patton's eyes go wide. "Really?"
"Yeah. We were playing house with some other kids at the park, and I was the dad and she was the mom." Roman explains. "I pretended to come home from work, and then she said that that means we have to kiss. I didn't want to though, so I ran away and she chased me around the whole field."
"Woah." Patton says. "Why didn't you wanna kiss her?"
"Kisses aren't supposed to happen in a game, right? They're supposed to be special." He pauses a moment. "Also, she had goldfish cracker stuck in her teeth."
"Sometimes I wonder why they're such a big deal." Patton says, after a moment.
Roman tilts his head to the side a bit. "I don't know, actually."
Patton looks up at his friend. "Maybe we should try it, just to see?" He suggests.
Roman thinks about this for a moment. Then, he shrugs his shoulders. "Okay."
"Okay." Patton says back.
There's a moment of quiet, as they try to decide what to do now.
"On the count of three?" Roman offers, to which Patton nods.
"Okay then." Roman says, twisting to face Patton. Suddenly he feels like he might fall off of the branch. "One,"
He watches as Patton takes a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks like he's about to be doused in water. Blue eyes screw themselves shut as Patton purses his lips exaggeratedly, and the whole combo makes him look kind of like a blowfish.
"Two,"
Patton's hands are pressed onto the branch between them, one on top of the other, keeping him balanced as he leans forward, waiting.
"Two and a half,"
"Three."
Roman feels like an internal laugh is bubbling in his stomach, fluttery and airy and excited. He leans in, and kisses Patton's lips with an over-the-top smooch sound, before sitting back.
Patton opens his eyes, and just stares at Roman. Roman stares right back. They sit there, wide-eyed and electric with what they've just done.
Then Roman gags, sticking out his tongue dramatically as he turns away from his friend, shaking his head vigorously. Patton bursts into giggles, and shouts, "Ewwwww!" He starts wiping his lips off with the back of his hand. They have a fit, kicking their legs and yelling things like: "Gross," "We definitely have cooties now," and "I am never doing that again as long as I live!"
They dissolve into laughter, elated and itching with energy. They have to hold onto the branch tightly to stop from losing their balance as they double over. Roman's mind is white, and there's a stitch in his side from laughing, but he doesn't even care. He doesn't remember any of his thoughts, and with the ground far below them, he feels like he's flying.
"C'mon," Patton says once they've laughed themselves breathless. "We should go home, it's gotta be almost dinner time."
"Aw." Now, it's Roman's turn to fake pout. "Can't you stay out later just this once?"
Patton shakes his head. He's already pushed himself off of the sitting branch, and has started descending the branches towards the ground. "My parents will wonder where I am."
Roman gives in, and starts to follow. He's careful not to get any of the tears in his pants caught up on any of the twigs. Patton accidentally gets his hand in some tree sap, and complains about how his fingers are going to be all sticky now. They carefully scale downwards, past the yellow-turning leaves of the oak in autumn. Eventually, they're down on the ground again, and it feels weirdly extra-solid beneath them. They approach their bikes in silence, looking a little uncomfortable now. They don't look at each other as they mount. It's like there's some sort of forcefield keeping them from lifting their heads in that direction. Roman's grip loosens and tightens on his handlebars when he hears Patton's helmet click as it's fastened, and it feels like he left his guts back up in the tree.
"Wanna race?" Roman asks.
"No, thanks." Patton's voice says from beside him.
"Okay." Roman says. "We can go slow."
They do. They ride side by side all the way back to Patton's house, for the most part. Occasionally, one of them will overtake the other, and take the lead for a bit. Or sometimes they go single file if they have to pass people walking their dogs or pushing strollers, or when they have to go around tight corners. Patton's bike squeaks extra because of the training wheels. At one point, Roman pulls in front and says: "Hey look, Pat! No hands!" before almost falling off of his bike completely when he tries to pedal with his arms stretched above his head. But, they spend most of the trip with their wheels parallel, and their handlebars side-by-side.
Once they reach Patton's house, Roman drops his bike in favour of helping store Patton's away in the shed, along with his helmet.
"You gonna go home now?" Patton asks, as he locks the shed back up. His hair is even messier than before.
"Probably not." Roman admits. They walk around to the front steps, which are as white as Patton's T-Shirt.
"You can stay for dinner, if you want." Patton offers. "I'm sure my mom won't mind."
Roman shakes his head. "That's okay. I think I'm going to go run for a bit."
"Too many thoughts?" Patton asks.
"Yeah."
"Okay then. Have fun." Patton starts up the steps, and Roman heads back towards where his bike lay by the curb, along the side of the road. He pulls it up by the handles. He swings one leg over it, positioning himself over the seat, and pressing one foot to the pedal. He's just about to kick off, when the sound of his best friend's voice stops him.
"Would you think about me?"
"Huh?" Roman asks, looking over his shoulder. Patton has paused halfway up the stairs, and he's looking at Roman curiously.
"If things don't work out, and you can't marry Cinderella." He says.
Roman considers this. "I guess," he says, after a bit.
Patton smiles.
"Seeya tomorrow?" Roman says it like a question.
"Seeya." Patton confirms, before heading inside.
Roman rides away, and Patton watches him go before he closes the door. Roman hears him call out to his parents, telling them that he's home as he kicks off his shoes. Roman pedals around the corner, heading for the field a couple of blocks away. When he gets there, he ditches his bike. He's about to start running, when he notices that the laces on his left shoe have, yet again, come undone. He crouches down, and ties it quickly. He falters, though, when something reflects the sun, and catches his eye. Frowning a little, Roman reaches for the small object that's nestled in amongst the grass. It's a little plastic ring. One of the cheap ones that you can get for twenty-five cents at corner stores, or you get in goodie-bags at birthday parties. It's purple, and glittery, and has a picture of Queen Elsa where the pendant should be. Somebody's kid probably dropped it. Roman throws it away, tossing it back into the grass, before getting up and starting to run.
He gradually picks up speed, his feet hammering against the ground with a rhythm that sounds like the whirring engine of an airplane. Roman extends his arms out to his sides, and imagines that he's hundreds of feet above the ground. So high that even the oak tree by the pier looks like a little tiny speck. Each step is more like a bound, and it feels like he's amongst the whiteness of the clouds. He runs and runs until all his thoughts are gone, and the afternoon dwindles and cools. Roman slows, chest heaving, legs aching, is heartbeat in his head, and looks to the tree-line. The last of the sun disappears over the horizon, bringing Roman one day closer to his future.
He watches for a moment longer, before turning towards where he left his bicycle earlier. Before he gets there, though, he looks around in the grass. Where did it go?
Eventually he finds it, the ring he'd tossed away earl ier. He picks it up, and looks at it for a moment. Patton would like it, he thinks. Roman smiles at the thought, tucking the ring into his pocket. Maybe he'll find himself an Anna one, so that they can match.