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Alex's room had that unmistakable smell of old wood mixed with disinfectant, the kind that always seemed to get trapped in the curtains. The fan spun lazily overhead, blowing a warm breeze that ruffled Jason's hair as he read, cross-legged, from a thick, blue covered book.
The bed was an organized mess: crumpled pillows, a football shirt thrown in the corner, and a bowl of popcorn leftovers on the nightstand. Alex was half-reclining, propped up against the pillow, his legs draped over Jason's, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Jason?”
“Yes?” Jason said without taking his eyes off the book.
"You know," Alex began, absently picking at a loose thread in the blanket, "sometimes I think about getting out of here. Like... trying something big, playing soccer somewhere else, you know?"
Jason turned the page calmly, without looking up. "Hmm. You've been saying that since you were 8, as if Pelican Town were a prison.”
Alex laughed, but it sounded a little wistful. "Maybe it is a little." He paused briefly, staring at the ceiling. "I mean, it's not like there's much to do here."
Jason looked up from his book, watching his friend for a moment. The way Alex spoke was always a bit disguised, somewhere between irony and a hint of sincerity.
"I like it here," he replied, his voice calm. "I like the silence, the people... the feeling that time moves slower."
Alex turned to him curiously.
"Really? You never thought about going to the big city again? Go to college like you think or something like that?”
Jason smiled slightly, “Of course I've thought about it. I want to go to college, maybe study literature or gastronomy… but wherever I go, I'll come back here.”
For a moment, Alex was quiet, just looking at him. His green eyes reflected the soft light from the lamp.
"Yeah..." he murmured, looking away. "I mean, I don't want to be away from my grandparents either. I really like it here... - he paused briefly, as if the next words were too heavy - and... I wouldn't want to be away from you anyway.
Jason blinked, surprised. The silence that followed was so thick that even the sound of the fan seemed to stop.
He slowly lowered the book, and a shy smile formed at the corner of his mouth. Heat rose to his ears.
“You say that because I help with homework, right?”
Alex laughed, throwing one of the pillows at him. "Idiot! I'm being serious."
"Oh, sure," Jason teased, "super serious,"
pretending to hide his face behind the book. "The great Alex Mullner, future soccer star, will cry if I don't stay close to him.”
"Hah! Like you wouldn't miss me if I left.” Alex chuckled and nudged his knee with his foot. "You'll stay here, all sentimental, reading poetry and thinking about me."
Jason giggled softly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll write you letters asking you to come back to me.”
“Pfff, letters? Don't you know something called a cell phone? The Internet? You're so outdated.” Alex says, laughing and tickling Jason's waist.
Jason gives a small laughing squeal, using the book as a shield from Alex's teasing. “Stop! You idiot.”
Alex snorted, but the smile didn't fade. They stared at each other for a few seconds, that kind of comfortable silence that only exists between people who understand each other without having to say everything.
Outside, the sky was beginning to tinge a darker blue, and the distant sound of cicadas filled the air.
Jason opened the book again, but his eyes hadn't left the same line in a while.
Alex, a little embarrassed, crossed his arms behind his head and sighed.
"Just for the record," he muttered, with a half-smile. "If I ever leave, I'm taking you with me."
Jason didn't look at him, but the smile grew, discreet.
“We'll see, Mullner. We'll see.”