DAY 6 21/03-18

I was always afraid of growing up when I was a kid. Most of us are, I guess. But it was just that, I was so terrified of growing up. I looked at dad in the mornings, at his shadowed face, the dark circles under his squinted eyes, and how he seemed to walk through some kind of imaginary mud that only made him slower and slower. Everyday, dad seemed to sink further down into the mud, sinking and sinking until he eventually would drown. Like all his burdens just pulled him down and down until he drowned.

Maybe that's why he left. Maybe I was the mud, and taking care of me alone slowed him down. Maybe he left me to prevent himself from drowning, eventually.

Looking at dad, I never wanted to grow up. I never wanted end up like him; trapped in quicksand. The more I move, the more I sink.

° ° °

The air seems funny as it brushes over my bare arms. I wonder if it's really a good idea to show up so much of my skin for the sun; it's still burning hot at this time, and could definitely give a very bad sunburn. And I really don't want to sit at home while applying layer on layer of sunscreen and aloe vera balsam on my skin.

When Lance appears in front of me, I really didn't expect him to come without a car. As he gets closer to me, I can see the white t-shirt he's wearing and the blue text that reads My level of sarcasm depends on your level of stupidity. He fixes his blue cap on his head that looks to be bought from a secondhand store; worn out and frayed. His sunglasses dangles from the sleeve at his chest and I don't understand why he needs them if he already has a cap.

"You don't have the car with you", I say when he approaches me.

"Yeah, my brother needed it, so I let him borrow it." Lance puts on his sunglasses again and I see my serious face in the reflection, and I immediately try to soften up my features. "Besides, when I arrived here by bus, I saw the kiosk just at the busstation, so it doesn't really matter if we have car or not. Thought we could buy some candy." He smirks. "Sour ones."

"With who's money, exactly?"

"Mine, duh!"

Before I can protest, he is already grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the busstation just a couple of meters ahead of us. His skin on mine kills every possible word I had in my mouth and I silently follow him.

As we step into the kiosk, a wave of cold air from the air conditioner washes over our heated bodies. There is a loud pling as we push open the door and walk further into the kiosk. There is several shelves with anything from candy and chips to magazines and drinks. The cashier only glances up at us, before tucking in his little earphone inside his ear again and watching something on his phone while eating Cheetos.

Lance sighs happily as he takes his sunglasses and cap off to shake out his sweaty hair in the chilly air. "Finally cold air. Sometimes I just wish I could live in the very North."

"You really don't", I say and shiver at just the thought of living somewhere where it would most likely be about two degrees now - at best.

"Oh look!" Lance shouts and runs towards a shelve filled with different candies. He takes up one pack of Sour Patch Kids; the extreme one. He shoves it up my face and I almost stumble backwards. "We need to try these!"

I push the candy away from my face. "Lance, I can't let you buy both of us candy."

"Don't worry, Keith, I got the money as a gift from my grandparents, and I didn't know what I would do with it for a while." He waves the pack of candy in my face again and I growl. "Besides, I won't spend all the money. Just a very little part of it."

I don't have time to say anything more, because he pushes the candy against my chest to make me hold it, before searching for any other candy to try. He finally finds a bag of Warheads, the hard candy, also extreme, and pushes it against me to hold too. I glare at him even though he can't see it as he picks another candy; sour belts. Two flavors; the rainbow one and the blue and pink one. Those can't be sour. They aren't.

"Let me just grab some milk", Lance tells me as he shoves the new candy against my chest and walks over to the fridges and grabs a little package of milk.

"Why the hell would you buy..."

"You know, in case the candy burns my tongue to aches, I have milk to bring my tongue back to life again. Water won't help", he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, but I can't really agree.

"I believe that's for spicy th..." My sentence is cut short when he grips my arm again.

He pulls me toward the cashier and I drop all the candy on the counter. The amount of candy seems to brighten the cashier's day, as he takes out his earphones and let his dirty and cheese covered fingers run over our products to scan them. I cringe and remind myself to shower in hand sanitizer when I return home.

"That'll be 25$ and 22¢", the Cheetos man demands. I cough when I hear the prize.

"Lance!" I hiss and put my hand on his arm when he tries to take out his money from his back pocket. "It's too much. I won't let you pay that much for this."

"It's totally fine, Keith", he insists and it's only now I realize I am really touching him. My skin on his, for the second time today. It's smooth, like I thought his face was the first time I saw him.

But then he takes his hand away and take out his money, placing them on the counter and I can't do anything about it because the cashier has already vacuumed the money into his cash register with his hands, and is already putting the candy into a white plastic bag.

"Besides", Lance says as he takes the bag and drags me out. "It's totally worth the money. "

° ° °

It surprises me that there even is alive grass in this heat - green and thick and alive in the sunlight. It's one of those parks where it's just natural to sit down in the grass and take out things to eat. Where the sound of the liveness all around just get you trapped in your own little box.

Me and Lance, sitting just at the end of it all, keeping a distance from the kids further ahead and the swings and parents with their carts.

Lance opens the bag with anticipation, light in his eyes. It reminds me of me and my Easter egg, except the anticipation died out when dad reacted the way he did by just me buying the egg in the first place.

But this time Lance seems happy. And it makes me happy that his money didn't go wasted for nothing.

"Okay, so we will have a little competition", Lance prompts with a big grin. "First to grimace from the sourness, loses."

"Seems easy enough", I say.

"Bring it on, Mullet!" He tears open the Sour Patch Kids and takes out a blue one, and gives me a red one. I place my phone just beside me, ready to capture the face Lance is about to make from the sourness. I will get my revenge.

"Three, two, one... GO!" We both stuff in the candy in our mouths and only four seconds passes by and Lance is already holding back a grimace. I can tell by the veins at his temples and the redness of his face.

Me? These candies have no affect on me, whatsoever. Just a little thickly in the tongue, but barely noticeable. It makes me a little disappointed.

Finally, Lance gives in and let's out a big grimace, and I quickly pick up my phone to get the perfect picture of his funny face. I smile in satisfaction and remind myself to make it as my background later. Lock screen and home screen.

"Fuck! Why is this so fucking sour, what the hell!" He sticks out his tongue and makes weird noices before closing his eyes hard and shivering. He opens them again, only to see my neutral face as I take another candy. "How the hell aren't you affected by this?"

"Stop overreacting. It isn't even sour in the slightest."

"Oh yeah, you're already sour, so this won't have any affect on you." Lance takes out the milk and chugs it and makes a disgusted face afterward.

"Fuck you", I say with a laugh and he gives me the finger with a big smile.

"Okay, you may have won this round, but you certainly will not win the second round." He tears open the Warheads and pushes the first tried candy aside. "I am prepared now."

"Let's see about that." We count to three again before opening the tiny bag and eat the hard candy. I must admit, this one is much more sour than the first one, but I still manage to keep a straight face.

"Fucking hell!" Lance says and spit out the candy, chugging the milk again with a wrinkled face. "This shit is too sour for me. I can't. I'm done."

"Does that mean that I win?" I ask, happy that I managed to burst Lance's ego.

"Screw you. You sour idiot."

I snort and spit out my candy too, just to tuck it back inside the paper and place it aside.

"I really liked the Sour Patch Kids", I say and take out two more, eating them with a smile in front of Lance's pouty face. He rolls his eyes.

"Yeah yeah. Be as happy as you want now, but when I challenge you in eating spicy food, be ready to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face."

I try not to drop my smile, and stuff my mouth full with more candy to hide it. Spicy food was never my thing, and still isn't. Whenever I eat it, I spend the rest of my glorious time in the bathroom, and whatever spicy food I just ate, just comes right out again. Fresh, I know, but spicy food is just my enemy.

And challenging Lance in eating it, when he seems to have no difficulties in eating it, is just going to result in only bad things for me later. And another long visit to the bathroom.

"Let's end the competitions, shall we?" I say in a poor attempt to avoid the thing I know will happen.

"Nuh uh!" Lance says and he shakes is head and index finger. "Won't do. I will challenge you, and you will lose."

"I will not", I defend, and just barely, I can feel the fire of my determination somewhere in the pit of my stomach. The need to win. To prove him wrong.

But then the fire dies out as quickly as it lights up, and I'm left with just the smoke whirling around in my abdomen.

"Then it's settled", Lance punctuates and puts an end to my further arguments I currently lack of. "Spicy challenge, you and me. Let's see who's the spiciest." He winks at me and I want to throw the candy on his face but that would mean that I would mean I would give up on my own.

"You just have that annoyance that shows up on a regular basis, do you know that?"

Lance scoffs and throws his candy that he spit out at my face and I yelp.

"At least I'm not a sour bitch."

"Yeah, you're just a bitch", I retort and throw back his candy on his chest.

It just falls naturally - our laughs. It's that kind of laugh you just want to supress rather than force out. A real laugh. And a loud one. It takes a while for us to calm down, and when we do, my throat is all dry and aching.

"Lance", I say and wait for him to stop giggling. When I have caught his attention I say "Thank you."

He's smiling idiotically. "For what?"

I close my mouth before I let the words slip out. He's trying to draw the words out of me again with his eyes so I look down and pick strands of grass, only to then let them blow away in the warm wind.

"I'm sorry if I've been so rude and grumpy towards you", I say instead. I try to glance up at him but his gaze is too much for me so I look down again. "Personal chemistry isn't really my thing."

I gasp. Suddenly my hand is drowning in another, warmth spreading itself all the way up my arm and leaving a tingly feeling in all my cells. The strands of grass I just picked but never released tickles our palms that's pressed against each other. My feelings has time to go up in crescendo before Lance gives me a hesitant smile, like he didn't really reflect over his action and just went for his gut instincts. Like he's not sure if he should feel ashamed or determent for something. I can only look at him dumbfounded and openly, not saying anything at all. I start to regret ever saying anything in the first place, though I can't really dislike the skin contact.

"You're welcome", is all he has to say. Like he understands what I'm thanking him for. He spares me the words I would have to stutter out.

I accidently look down at our hands, and suddenly his is gone, like he thought I judged this situation, when I really didn't. Deep down I didn't, at least. It's still unbelievably hot around us, but at the same time my body drops several degrees. The tree over us doesn't provide much shadow, and I can already feel my body burning, but at the same freezing so badly. My arms are already red, but my face is redder. And it's not only because of the weather.

"Man, it's really hot here", Lance says, taking off his cap to fan his face, his hair glittering under the sunlight because of the sweat. Before I even know it, he's standing up, collecting all the candy in the bag again, chugging the milk empty before folding it to throw it. He's looking down at me, like he expects me to stand up, but suddenly the bones in my body is gone and it's hard for me to move. My muscles stopped working a long time ago.

"Hellooo, earth to Mullet..." Lance nudges my leg with his foot. "Are you going to sit there all day, or what? I would gladly leave you to melt here under the sun, but I'm feeling too nice today."

"You always seem to feel nice", I say and finally stand up, my legs wobbly for a second, but I manage to stand upright, ignoring Lance that instinctively tries to help me. I don't doubt that I will say no to crutches when I start to limp. Because I will limp, sooner or later. I will say no to any kind of help if it means that I will look strong without it. That's just the problem with me. I always deny that I need help, and that's when it goes horribly bad for me. I don't know what could possibly happen to me if I keep up with this, and I certainly don't want to find out.

"Would you rather want me to be a bitch? Because trust me, I can be", Lance says like it's a big accomplishment, to be a bitch.

"We both know you already are a bitch", I say, taking my head out from the chamber of bad thoughts.

"Wow Keith, you're so freaking funny, oh my, get a job as a comedian or something", he says, sarcastic as ever, but still I see the smallest hint of a grin.

"Maybe I will. Will you be my audience?"

He flashes me one of those sincere smiles again. "Certainly."

° ° °

It's after what feels like five years - when it's really just five minutes - that I finally take the candy bag from Lance, thanking him a loads, and he scurries away with just a single wave with his hand to go and wait for the bus. I even offered to him that Shiro would drive him home, even though I have no idea what Shiro might be up to, but he just dismissed my offer with another wave with his hand.

The air in our apartment is significantly more colder than outside, but I'm still sweating. The apartment is silent except for some mm and mhm occasionally. Shiro's voice. He must be talking on the phone. I take off my shoes quietly, tip-toing all the way over to the kitchen, just about to step in, but I stop myself. Shiro is sitting in one of the chairs, his face resting in his free hand while his other is holding the phone against his ear so hard that his knuckles is turning white. I hold my breath, hoping Shiro didn't hear or see me yet.

"Matt, please..." He gets silent again, only sighing in defeat. "I..." He looks up and forward, running his hand over his shadowed face before looking out the small kitchen window, running his fingers through the white part of his hair. "Matt, please listen to me... You need to calm down. Let me explain..."

In the silence I can hear Matt's angry voice on the other line, and Shiro seems to crumble down into sad pieces. It's not common for Matt to get angry; he's the ultimate meme boy, jokey and just generally the happy type. To hear him lash out on Shiro like this must mean that he's very upset. And I know exactly why. I think everyone do by now. I wonder if Pidge is with him know, chanting on him to tell Shiro off. Of course she would take Matt's side, because we all know who is the one causing all this drama in the first place. Matt is showing Shiro his affection openly, but Shiro doesn't want to return it because he's in denial. He doesn't want to accept the situation. Just like me being sick. Just like the risk of me dying soon.

"Matt..." Shiro solidifies, goes rigid for a whole ten seconds, before blinking and slowly lowering his phone, looking forward, his eyes open widely, downturned like Matt really broke him. The sight of him makes my heart ask questions and my chest to twinge. I can't help but to step into Shiro's field of view, reaching for his hand holding the phone to take the little object away from him and placing it on the kitchen table. Shiro is still not moving, not even looking at me. It concerns me deeply.

"Shiro..." He doesn't react on his name, and I sit in the chair in front of him, taking both of his hands, trying to comfort him the way he does to me, by massaging the soft spot between his index finger and thumb, but he's just looking down, away from me, not saying anything.

"Shiro, what did he say?" I try again, but no answer. The only thing you can hear now is the soft humming of the fan standing on the kitchen counter, facing us and casting a light breeze around us.

Just as I'm about to repeat myself, he looks up at me, his eyes gleaming in the saddest way, not like in a beautiful star, more like a star that is about to die away, and his under lip is quivering in the slightest.

"He hates me", is all he has to say.

I'm quick to disagree, even though I have zero experience in comforting people and there is a high chance I may make this even worse. "No, Shiro, he doesn't hate you. He's just not thinking clearly right now. I think his head is just clouded with temporary anger, and that's why he's irrational. He will come over it."

For a second, it looks like Shiro wants to prove me wrong, but then his face switches, and suddenly he's back to his calm-self. If I didn't know better, I would say he felt fine, but you have to look closely to see the evidence on his face.

"Thank you Keith, I appreciate your comfort, but let's forget about this." He clears his throat to shake away any left over sadness in it and tries for a small smile at the end. But this smile doesn't reach up to his eyes. "How was your day with Lance? What did you guys do?"

See, the problem with both me and Shiro - which shows resemblance in us - is that we both don't want to show our true feelings, or get sad in front of other's. The only difference in that is that Shiro does it because he's kind of like the role model to everyone, the perfect dad. Sadly dad's meant to be the strongest in the family, not bringing down the rest because he's sad. That's why Shiro is like that. Me on the other hand, I'm just naturally trapped in my own walls I have built around me for all these years. I tend to push people away before they reject me, and that's why I keep myself so distant from everyone.

"It doesn't matter right now, what matters is that you get some rest and try to take your mind off of this", I say, thinking. "Watch Batman with me?"

Shiro forces out a grin. "The ultimate emo movie." When I frown he laughs silently, making me smile inside. "Pidge may have taught me a thing or two."

"Of course she did", I say with a roll with my eyes.

"Although, I'm kinda in the mood for Hitch today", Shiro says.

"Hitch?" My eyes widens. "As in the most corniest of all corny movies? You want to watch it again?"

"Yeah, why not?" Shiro stands up with a little huff, looking down at me. "Why not see someone else's love life succeed when yours isn't?" He throws a nod to the kitchen cabinet. "Make some popcorn while I take a wee. And remember to put..."

"Two ice cubes in your glass of water, yeah, I know", I say, dismissing him with a shake with my hand, and he smiles before exiting the kitchen.

I smile after him, happy that I managed to somewhat cheer him up, and I turn around to grab a bowl when my phone vibrates in my backpocket, followed by another vibration, a slight paus, and the a third one. I take up my phone, seeing my display being lit up by the name Lance and the things he has to say. Rather quickly, I open up his messages.

Lance

I hope you haven't forgotten about our spicy challenge Mullet boi cuz if so, I will yeet you out of the window

Lance

As I was saying earlier, I'm feeling nice so I won't spam you with messages... yet

Lance

Have a bad evening :D

I can't help but to chuckle, just a little bit. I lean over the counter and type in my answer.

What the hell is a "yeet"??? And next time, check your spelling. You spelled "boy" wrong

It takes a little while for him to answer but finally his reply pops up in the field.

Lance

...

I refuse to believe you just wrote that shit

Wow, you have a lot to know about the meme world. Be ready to step into heaven

I roll my eyes but my smile hasn't vanished from my face yet. If anything, it only got bigger.

° ° °

But you know, growing up doesn't just have to be bad. I may have not had the best childhood, and growing up from there wasn't the best either, but there is always time for changes. Whether it's small changes, big changes, or maybe even slow or fast changes, I can eventually change my thoughts on this topic. I honestly think growing up has a lot positive stored somewhere, I just never got to experience it. But for now, I will try to take a peek at those things, maybe then my life will be more enjoyable then?

° ° °

I ate sour patch kids and warheads and then this chapter happened