Chapter Text
Michael received his first sketchbook when he was barely old enough to properly hold a pencil in his hand, let alone make decent drawings from other pens and materials. But he took that damn book everywhere he went, he wrote his thoughts, doodled during class, painted abstract colors with the crayola watercolor palette he got from school. He turned each page into some kind of a mess of art.
Soon that book was filled, and he was begging his mother to buy him a new one, then another after that one was full too. Eventually, both his mother and father knew to keep the boy’s access to sketchbooks and paper available at all times, for the sanity of their household.
Especially after the birth of his siblings, the more they argued, the more he would vent his frustrations in art. He loved them, sure, but he was older than them and smarter and more mature, he thought, so he could be upset at them for small things that pissed him off, right?
As he continued his drawing, doodles, paintings, and other art mediums throughout schooling and his teenage years, his skill grew all the while. He put his heart and soul into every piece he made, into murals on his bedroom walls and canvases he gave to friends and family, into sticky notes and pages torn off of homework assignments. Michael turned in half finished tests and couldn’t give more of a shit about getting a D- in his math class, but Michael Afton did not half ass his art.
It was his dream to go to a real art school, to learn professionally among other people who had the same passion he did and make friends with those like-minded people. That dream was the one thing that pushed him to actually try and do well in his classes, turning his high school transcript into something that he could be proud to show the university administration when he submitted his applications.
His parents weren’t thrilled at the thought of their son going off to an expensive university out of state, so they encouraged him - or pressured him, in his father’s case - to qualify for as many scholarships as he could. They couldn’t afford the tuition otherwise, even if the family entertainment business was beginning to take off, they couldn’t rely on income they didn’t have yet.
Michael poured hours into different academic programs, scholarship awards, and his artistic portfolio, trying his best to make this work, to make his dream become a reality. His little siblings, bless their hearts, would leave snacks outside his bedroom with handwritten notes and drawings they slid under his door. They tried not to disturb him when he was working so intensely, he could be quite irritable when he was disrupted, the same way their father did. However, whenever he saw a slip of paper appear under his door, ”You’re going to get in! They will see you are the best artist in the world! - Lizzie & Evan,” it always made him smile.
Charlie would encourage him too, sweet, loving, compassionate Charlotte Emily. The girl he’d been best friends with since they were both just little kids, the girl who had put up with all his selfish mistakes and was still here despite them all. He never deserved her, no matter how many times she insisted he was a good friend and she didn’t hold his outbursts against him, he wouldn’t believe her kind words. She was too nice for her own good.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t allow himself to wish he could be with her, to spend more time with her, to get the courage to ask her out to a drive-in movie or to get milkshakes down at the diner. She was beautiful, her long dark brown hair that turned almost golden in the sunlight, chocolate eyes that lit up whenever she smiled. Michael memorized each of the small features that made him fall for her, would he admit that to himself though? Of course not.
Sometimes after school, when the house was quiet waiting for the younger kids to be released from school, Charlie would sit in his room with him while he painted. She brought a new record from her collection every time she had the chance, insisting to show Michael an album she was currently obsessed with.
She would be sprawled out on his bed, bobbing her head to the beat of the music and singing to her favorite songs. Her quiet presence was welcomed gratefully, she was never distracting like his siblings could be, in fact, he might have even made more progress when she was around. While she scribbled the answers to her homework down and he wet his brushes, maybe the fact they were both working on something was enough to help Michael’s brain into focusing solely on his own projects.
“Is that one going in the portfolio?” She would ask each time he finished a new piece, eager eyes admiring the detail and work he put into each brushstroke on the canvas.
“Maybe,” he usually would say back, “If you think it’s good enough.”
“It is.”
He would quietly keep that information in mind when he was putting together the final pieces of his applications, Charlie liked this one more.
The day Michael was due to receive word back from his top university pick, he hardly sat still for a moment, pacing about the family home or around their backyard. In the living room one moment, then through the hallway to his own room, then to Evan’s, to Elizebeth’s, back out to the living room and around the kitchen. It was beginning to drive his father a bit insane, and his mother was doing her best to keep William from snapping.
“Can I drive to Charlie’s?” He asked about midday, hoping that going to see his friend might put him at ease. And his parents would be happy to be rid of his dizzying antics for a few hours.
“Go on, then. Be home by evening, won’t you?” His mother told him as he grabbed the keys for the family car from the counter.
“Sure thing, love you mum,” he called back, stumbling out the door as soon as possible. It was a miracle he didn’t get pulled over with the way he sped to the Emily’s house.
Henry greeted him with a warm smile when he opened the door, welcoming him inside to their quiet home. Charlie was in her room, he had said, but Michael didn’t even have to go down the hallway before the girl was pushing him for answers, “Mike! Did you get in? You had to have got in, you’re too damn good for them to turn you down-”
“Charlie, the mail’s not in yet,” he replied with a bit of a laugh, amused by her excitement that nearly matched his own.
“Oh,” she sighed, leading him to her room. “Then your parents got tired of dealing with you acting like a puppy waiting for a treat all day?”
“Hey!” He pushed her arm playfully, only to get the same push back from her in retaliation. His tone was light and sarcastic, “I’m totally here of my own accord, but apparently I’ve done something wrong by coming to my best friend’s house instead of staying at home and boring myself to death. Officer, arrest me now!”
Said best friend laughed, taking on the role of the imaginary police officer that had come to take Michael in for his crimes. She grabbed his wrists and put them together, mimicking handcuffs as she pulled him, “Come here, criminal, you’ll be sorry once I put you in the slammer!”
“Try me, I’ll file a wrongful arrest lawsuit,” he faked a struggle against her grasp, he could easily pull his hands free if he wished to. “You’ll be fired, my name will be cleared.”
“Wow, for a Brit you sure know a lot about the American government system,” Charlie joked, knowing full well Michael had grown up in the same small town as her their whole lives.
“I’ve literally never even lived over there! Damn my stupid accent,” the two both dropped the bit, laughing like little kids playing a game of pretend. Though, what more was the difference besides the two little kids being not so little anymore?
It was easy to kill time together, putting on a record from Charlie’s collection, playing Mario Bros on the Nintendo, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. This was the way it had always been between them, always sharing toys, ideas, dreams. Their friendship was comfortable, familiar, a constant in Michael’s life when everything could be so unpredictable. When his father came home drunk and snapped at any of his family members that tried to speak with him. When his mother would leave for the night unexpectedly, after an argument, after Michael heard banging from his parents room, after seemingly nothing at all.
Through all of the Afton’s struggles, the one thing he knew he could count on to stay the same would be Henry and Charlie Emily. Only five minutes away by car, twenty by bike or foot if he could run fast enough (he could, he had). In some ways, they were more of a family than his own was.
“Do you ever think about leaving here?” He mused out loud during a game of Crazy Eights, the cards spread in front of them on Charlie’s bed.
The girl hummed, placing down a card matching the number of the one facing upwards on the deck, changing the suit from clubs to hearts. “I don’t know, sometimes. But I know if I ever did I couldn’t be gone forever, I’d have to come back.”
The change in suit was exactly not what Michael had needed, with a hand full of spades and clubs and not a heart in sight. He reluctantly pulled a card from the deck and felt relief as his first pick had been hearts, he really didn’t want to be stuck pulling from the deck until he found something to play. “Why’s that?”
“Cause you’d be here, and Dad, and Liz and Evan too.” The way she said it was factual, like she knew the Afton’s would always reside in the same place. The thought of that seemed ridiculous to him, nothing ever stayed the same in their household.
“Well… what if I left too? What then?” He questioned further, watching another card of hearts be played and Charlie’s collection of cards growing smaller.
“You would come back too, for your siblings, and I would still see you eventually.” She looked at him briefly, seeing a trace of frustration in his face that wasn’t aimed towards their card game. “Why are you asking about all this, Mike?”
“Because,” he said in a tone just a bit too loud for conversation, though he quickly regulated himself and continued in a softer tone. “Because I’m… worried.”
She never flinched when he raised his voice, not in the same way he did whenever his father was angry. Perhaps in some ways she was stronger than him, she wasn’t scared.
“Hey, you’re my best friend,” Charlie said softly, placing her cards face down next to her so she could reach out a hand to put on Michael’s shoulder. “No matter where either of us end up we’re always gonna come back together, okay? Even if you go away for months to the big fancy college of your dreams and I stay here wishing you were with me… you’ll- you have to come back.”
Her eyes were shiny with tears, like two glass marbles. her hand squeezed his shoulder gently as if to reassure him, or herself. Michael hadn’t thought about how Charlie would handle him being gone, he had only thought of himself being homesick and how his siblings would do without him at home, if their father would treat them well. He knew he was going to miss her, but he hadn’t considered the fact that she would miss him in turn.
“Charlie,” he whispered and grabbed her hand from his shoulder to hold onto, it was so small compared to his. Their eyes met, his beginning to water from seeing the way someone he held so close to his heart was upset - and because of him, no less. “I will. I won’t leave you here alone, ever.”
Charlie’s brown eyes seemed to flick from their hands held together and back to Michael’s face, a smile beginning to tug at her lips. She nodded in affirmation, and she knew he wasn’t lying when he said those words. He would come back for her. He wouldn’t leave her here.
He felt almost mesmerized in the moment by that contact of their hands, hell, he was surprised he was even brave enough to take Charlotte Emily’s hand without thinking about it. If he hadn’t been caught up in his emotions, in her emotions and the tears threatening to fall from her eyes that he wanted to reach out and wipe away, he wouldn’t have been able to do it, chickened out.
But that wasn’t the case right now.
“Michael, your mom’s on the phone for you!” Henry’s voice shouting down the hall made him jump, retracting his hand from Charlie’s and a red blush colored his cheeks.
“Oh, damnit what time is it? Mum told me to be back by evening.” He peered out the window to see the setting sun on the horizon, a sense of dread rising in him realizing she was likely calling to tell him to get back over there.
Charlie realized this as well, offering a friendly word to lighten the mood, “Don’t keep her waiting on the phone dude, you’re not gonna save your ass hiding out here.”
The two teens laughed and Michael stole a glance at his friend, he swore he could see a light dusting of pink on the tips of her ears. They both left the bedroom and came out to the living room where Henry was standing making idle chat with Mrs. Afton over the phone. Once he saw her son, he passed the phone to him so the two could talk.
“Listen Mum, I’m sorry I’m not home yet we got caught up playing cards and I hadn’t looked at the time in a while I promise I’ll be home in five minutes it won’t be long at all-” he tried to explain but stopped when he heard her laugh.
“Michael, honey it’s fine, I just wanted to let you know the mail’s come in, your letter is here.”
Suddenly, he was reminded why he had come to the Emily’s house in the first place, “Really? From the university?”
“Yes, from the university, we didn’t open it at all so you could-”
He cut his mom off with a reignited flame running through his body again, excitement and anxiety pooling in his stomach that gave him butterflies he wasn’t sure were a good or bad thing, “Okay! I’m coming right now, love you bye!”
He barely heard the last sentence before he hung up the phone, grabbed the keys from his pocket, and zipped up his jacket. Charlie stood wearing an excited expression herself, wanting to know the contents of that letter just as badly as he did, and she smiled when they met eyes as he ran out the door.
“Call me, Mike!”
“I’ll ring you when I’m home!” He called over his shoulder before the door closed and he jumped into the car. He felt like he could run all the way home if he wanted to and his legs would still carry him further, but he knew it would be faster to drive, albeit a bit less satisfying for the adrenaline running through his veins.
For his mother’s sanity, he tried not to speed as much as possible on the drive home and vowed to be at least a bit more careful, he couldn’t get in a wreck right before knowing if he was going off to college or not. Then there was his next thought, what if he didn’t get in? Where would he go, or what would he do with his career if not art? What if he got in but didn’t qualify for any of his scholarships, leaving him without a way to pay for school?
No, he had to get in, he worked too hard for all of it to go to waste.
He ran inside the house as soon as he parked the car, tossing the keys on the kitchen counter and grabbing the white envelope addressed to him. This letter held his fate, he stared at it as if he was trying to peer through the paper and read the message without actually opening it. Briefly, he registered his sweet little sister’s voice telling him to open it, they were waiting on him. Even his father looked at him with some kind of encouragement written on his face, urging him to tell them the news.
Michael took in a breath as he tore open the envelope, he pulled out the letter without looking just yet so he could unfold the paper. There, in neatly typed font read, “Congratulations Michael Afton,” the rest of the contents were describing the academic semester and signing up for classes, when he would move into the dorms. It detailed the payment plan, which would be covered by a full ride scholarship for his outstanding artistic achievements, as long as his grade point average stayed above a certain number.
He clasped his hand over his mouth, tears of pure excitement and joy spilled from his eyes. His family was all around him in an instant, his mother taking him into her arms to hug him while Elizabeth stepped on her tippy-toes to read the letter in her brother's hand. Evan grinned and clapped excitedly at the good news and his father gave him a reassuring pat on the back, Michael had never felt so much emotion in one moment before. He was going to art school, he had his scholarship, there was nothing stopping him from escaping this tiny town and pursuing his dreams.
Nothing except Charlie, who he remembered was waiting at home for him to call with the news. When his family finally let him breathe his own air, he dialed the Emily’s number on their home phone and waited not even one full ring before he heard his best friend’s voice, “Did you get in?!”
“Yes! Yes, I got in on full scholarship! I’m going to go to my first choice university!” He shouted into the receiver, and he heard her laugh in excitement on the other end. Henry’s voice could be heard cheering him on in the background, both households celebrating Michael’s acceptance letter.
They had his favorite food for dinner and ate ice cream for dessert afterwards, which ended up in both of his little siblings experiencing a sugar crash and falling asleep early. His parents tucked them into bed and congratulated him again, excited for their eldest child to finally be growing up and going out into the real world.
The months following were full of preparation and planning, Michael was studying up on the college lifestyle and planning his schedule in a brand new environment– completely unlike what he’d grown up in. He made sure to spend lots of time with his siblings, watching cartoons with them on Saturday mornings and playing with dolls and trucks whenever he was asked. He spent more time with his parents, and his relationship with his dad still wasn’t perfect, but it had improved ever so slightly.
More than anything, he spent as much time with Charlie as he could. He couldn’t bare to think about being apart from her for so long after their conversation the day he received his letter, he promised he’d never leave her there alone. And he wasn’t going to, he would just be leaving for a few months for his first semester, he would be back for Christmas and then later on during summer break. Still, his heart ached when he thought of not having his best friend just down the block from him, instead being separated by hundreds of miles.
He tried not to think about it too much, he wanted to make happy memories during his summer break so he’d have a catalog to mentally flip through when he was homesick. When he wasn’t spending time with his family or Charlie, he was painting and sketching to keep up with his skills. There was one project he had been working on for days, keeping it hidden from his curious siblings so they wouldn’t have the chance to spoil the surprise. Lizzie was almost a teenager, but she was still as much of a brat as she was when she was younger, she would tell their parents anything and everything Michael or Evan did. It was a miracle she didn’t understand how crushes worked quite yet, or know how to spot when somebody had one, otherwise he would have been called out a long time ago.
It took weeks until he was satisfied with his project, finishing it up right on time to leave for college. The night before he would leave on a plane to move into his new dorm, he and Charlie laid outside staring up at the starry night sky, spotting constellations and planets. She was always into science more than he was, and he found he could sit and listen to her rattle off interesting facts about space or the ocean or biology for hours. They developed a comfortable routine, talking about life, sitting in pleasant silence, or chatting about their nerdy interests for a good part of the night. Michael had no clue how much time had passed by the time he noticed Charlie yawning, pulling her olive green hoodie around her a bit tighter.
“I have something for you,” he said softly, moving to stand up and grab something hidden behind a porch chair.
“For me? What could you possibly have for me?” Charlie asked, jokingly. She sat up from where she had been laying down, brushing her hair away from her face and watching Michael retrieve the item.
It was a canvas, decently sized and framed with a golden rim with Michael’s signature on the back in deep purple ink. She looked at him quizzically, until he began to explain while he joined her again in sitting on the grass.
“I’ve been working on this for a while, something for you to have while I’m gone. Or- I mean, it's yours, I’m giving it to you to keep but it will be something for you to remember me when I’m not here,” he stumbled, laughing a bit at himself when Charlie snorted at his attempt to cover his poor wording. “Anyways… I really hope you like it.”
He turned the painting around to reveal a stunning mirror image, a life-like portrait of Charlie laying next to a record player, her brown locks spread out around her head like a halo. A soft smile dawned her face as she peacefully listened to the music with her eyes closed; if you were to stare at it long enough you might even convince yourself you could see her head bobbing along to the beat. The attention to detail was incredible, the smile lines on her cheeks an exact replica of what they looked like in real life, each hair on the canvas painted with the thinnest brush and gentlest of strokes.
On the same table as the record player, a used watercolor paint palette sat with a cup of murky water, a few brushes soaking in the water. It was just like a scene from one of their summer hangouts, Michael just barely off canvas working on a painting while the main focus was highlighted in oil colors and beautiful textures. Charlie took the painting into her hands, mouth slightly ajar as she marveled over the craftsmanship, it was by far the artist’s best work.
“Michael…” she trailed off, looking between the boy’s eyes and the artwork, speechless with awe. “I love it.”
“Really?” He asked, a mix of relief and excitement welling up inside him.
“Really.” She echoed.
She might have protested the gift, recognizing how incredible it was and that it should be kept to show his skills at school, but this piece wasn’t about showing his skills, she knew that. He wouldn’t have created something so gorgeous without her as his muse, and she was lucky enough to receive it as a gift. It would certainly remind her of him while he was gone, how could she think of anything else looking at his paintings?
“I’m… I just can’t believe you’d make something like this for me, it's wonderful.” Her smile was genuine, and Michael returned it when she set the painting aside to look at him directly. “It will definitely keep you on my mind, if you’re off creating more things like this then I guess I can’t be mad about you leaving.”
He blushed in the backlight of the porch lights and moonbeams, averting his eyes as he answered, “Well, I’ll miss you just as much so painting you will have to do until I can get letters and calls.”
Charlie giggled, moving her hand to place it on top of his, “That’ll have to do. I’ll be sending you lots, just wait.”
He believed her, she might even send more things than his siblings or parents would– not that it was any kind of competition. They sat together with their hands resting in each other’s, leaning close to each other for warmth or simply because they wanted to, either would be acceptable. He just wanted them to stay this close forever, to become even closer so they could never drift apart, he was determined to make sure the distance wouldn’t separate them. Physically, of course he couldn’t change, but emotionally? He’d make sure nothing would come between them.
Their eyes flicked up to meet each other at the same time, and Michael felt his heart skip a beat or two or three. He stared into her eyes like he would be able to read her mind by looking into them, unfortunately it didn’t seem to be working. If he knew his best friend’s body language well enough by now– and god he hoped he did– he should be able to guess what she was thinking. His free hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, lingering by her cheek.
“Charlie,” he whispered, the space between their faces only a few inches apart.
“Mike,” came her reply, and he shoved aside all of his nerves to lean in and finally close the gap.
Their lips pressed against each others and it was as if time stopped, in reality a few seconds passed but Michael he was certain he had experienced seven minutes in heaven. Charlie’s lips were soft and smooth, smelling and tasting of strawberry lip balm that she couldn’t live without. It was a sensation he would remember forever, he’d make sure every touch, taste, and smell was etched into the surface of his brain. His first kiss, and his first kiss with the girl he loved, now that he’d done it he never wanted to kiss anyone else but her.
They pulled apart and grinned at each other, Charlie lunging forward to tackle him into a hug with a laugh. It wasn’t just Michael who had waited for this moment, it wasn’t just him who had been crushing and admiring from afar, waiting for the right moment or the perfect opportunity. Perhaps that was what made it all the sweeter for the teenage sweethearts, all that time spent silently loving each other platonically so it could build into something much more.
“I’ve waited ages to do that,” the boy confessed, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist and chin tucked over her shoulder.
“Should’ve done it sooner,” she teased, “I would’ve liked it still.”
“Yeah? Well why didn’t you do it first then?” he shot back, which earned him a slap on his arm. “Ow, okay fine you win.”
She pulled back from their embrace, enough to peck Michael on the lips quickly just to prove her point. “There, now we’re even.”
It wasn’t like they had to keep score of who initiated each kiss, they both would lose track way too fast, but for the sake of their little standoff it was fun. Charlie wasn’t the kind of girl to believe in the typical societal norms of a relationship, she didn’t think the boy had to ask her on all their dates or pay for food or even propose. She was just as capable of doing those things herself, so what really had stopped her from doing so with Michael?
Maybe she was scared, worried about what a possible rejection would do to their friendship after all these years of knowing each other. Perhaps she thought she needed to wait until they both had more of their lives figured out, until they had both gone off to college and knew what they were going to do as a career. Whatever excuse she made for never going through with a confession or a kiss was irrelevant now.
She glanced over at the painting, bittersweetly remembering why they were spending all night together in the first place, “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Michael replied, he had just kissed the girl of his dreams and the next time he would see her again would be in four months' time. They would be in touch, but it wouldn’t be the same as getting to see her face in person and hear her laugh next to him.
The rest of the night they spent bundled up inside, a large blanket wrapped around the two of them as they watched the late night shows to fall asleep. Charlie was the first, her head drooping over to lean against her friend (boyfriend?) and using his bicep as a pillow. Michael meant to let her sleep on the couch separately and he would throw a pillow down on the floor, but he didn’t want to move in fear of waking her up and losing more sleep. He could only hope his mother would forgive him in the morning, or she’d be too worried about him catching his flight to be angry about sleeping in the same “bed” as a girl.
Thankfully, by the time the sun rose over the horizon, his parents hadn’t gotten out of bed yet to find the two teens snuggling together. As much as he would love to spend the morning slowly waking up with Charlie still asleep against him, it was only a matter of time before he had to head to the airport. He carefully removed himself from under the blanket and placed a pillow underneath the sleeping girl’s head, rushing off to get ready and make sure all his things were packed. Most of his luggage was in the car already, save for his carry-on backpack that he had reserved for entertainment on the plane. A Sony Walkman and his favorite albums on cassette, a book he started reading a few days ago, a sketchbook, and pencils, along with his last minute items he forgot to pack previously like his toothbrush.
He cleaned up in the bathroom and heard the rustle of the rest of his family waking up, the heavy footsteps of his father walking down to brew a cup of coffee, his mother’s voice greeting Charlie in the living room. Elizabeth and Evan were starting to wake up too, he could hear the radio on in Lizzie’s room and Evan followed after their parents trying to shake off the previous night’s insomnia.
Breakfast went by too quickly, his last time eating with his family–plus Charlie–before he went off to college. With the excitement and buzz in the room, he could almost pretend that everything was perfect, that when he left his father wouldn’t come home drunk every weekend night. That his little brother and sister would do well in school making friends and come home to a peaceful house. That his mother wouldn’t silently cry herself to sleep in a half empty bed, wondering what happened to the man she married 18 years ago. He knew it wouldn’t all stay this bright and happy for very long.
Henry was still there though, he would keep William in check and support Clara as best he could, he’d help watch the kids. Charlie would be there too, like a big sister to Elizabeth who she could talk to about all the drama at school and someone Evan would feel safe enough around to drift off to sleep for a few fleeting minutes. Where the Afton’s fell apart, the Emily’s filled in.
By the time Michael had finished loading everything into the car and his mother was ready to drive him down to the airport, he was feeling emotional to say the least. His father gave him a pat on the back, telling him to go off and do great things at school. He hugged both his siblings tight and told them each to behave for Mum and Dad, otherwise he wouldn’t come back for Christmas. That was a lie, he’d come back anyways, but it might help keep them on better behavior for the time being.
Then there was Charlie, sweet, loving, compassionate Charlotte Emily, hugging him so tight he nearly couldn’t breathe. Her grip loosened but they didn’t separate from each other, both of their eyes wet with tears. If his family wasn’t watching him with eagle eyes, he would have kissed her goodbye, but they finally had their first kiss yesterday and telling his whole family about it right this instant didn’t seem like a smart idea. It would make him late to his flight.
“Come along Michael, we need to get going,” his mother called as she got into the driver's seat, starting the engine of the car. He understood, and reluctantly let go of the girl in his arms.
They smiled at each other, Charlie wiping tears from her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater, “I’ll miss you, Mike. Like, a lot.”
“Same to you,” he chuckled, glancing at the rest of his family as he finally turned to join his mother in the car. Everyone waved as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, and Michael leaned out of the window to wave back, shouting his goodbyes to his siblings and father. Before they got too far away, he yelled out, “Charlie! I love you!”
The girl waved even more at him and he had to twist his body uncomfortably to be able to see her as the car rolled down the block. Her reply rang loud in his ears despite being further away, “I love you too!”
Eventually, he sat back down properly before they drove out on the main roads and he was thankful his mother hadn’t decided to question him about the exchange he just had with his childhood best friend. That conversation could wait for a while, or better yet, Charlie could have it with them while he was gone altogether. How nice would that be?
The rest of the drive went well and the boarding process was smooth, he said goodbye to his mother and let her dote on him one last time before he got on the plane. Before he knew it, he was 35,000 feet in the air on a one way trip to his dream school with his favorite cassette playing through his earbuds. He gazed out of the small airplane window to see the sea of fluffy clouds they soared above, reminiscing on when he and Charlie would cloud gaze when they were kids and try to find shapes or patterns in them. It seemed everything would remind him of her while he was gone, and he couldn’t say that he minded. He took out his sketchbook and turned to a clean page, beginning to draw a figure he knew by memory, a person he could sketch with his eyes closed.
His mind drifted the same way the clouds below him did, aimlessly with the wind, guided only by wherever the current should take them. No matter what he did, the current would always lead him back to her, back to the one he called home.