Heyyy y'all (from the south sorry), I've been trying to do a bit of improvement on my writing. Really taking my time on each part. So let me know what you think, any feedback would be lovely! :)

Chapter 12: The Sky

"I'm sorry," I tell Weston. He remains completely unfazed, looking out at the night sky.

"I can tell there is something wrong." He says, breaking the silence. Tension flows thickly through the air, making it almost impossible to breath.

I breathe shakily in, struggling to say the words. "I think it would be best if you stay away from me for a while, Weston." Westons eyes remain blank and hooded. But, he nods. His persona remains the same, distant but almost expectant of my words.

The rest of the slow turning of the ride felt longer than it was. The comfort I once felt when in this man's presence now replaced with a general air of malaise. It aches me to think I had lost a close friend, I have never had to worry about that until now.

I walk to meet up with Levi and Rory some time later near a few carnival games. Kennedy throws a small ring at a peg as I walk up. "Damn, these things are rigged." Levi laughs, "you said that 5 tries ago." She glares at him, "shut it."

I couldn't help but let out an obnoxious laugh. Yes, have one of those kinds of laughs. Kennedy turns and aims her glare at me, I ignore her. My eyes are closed and my hand is gripping my stomach. I feel a familiar ping under my hand due to the volume of my laughing fit. A round object hits me in the cheek, hard.

"Hey!" I yell at my best friend. Ken looks back at me in victory, a devilish smirk toying on her face. I pick up the ring and throw it swiftly at the target Kennedy was aiming for a few moments ago. The weapon swiftly circles around a green peg. "Winner! Winner!" A mechanical voice blares over the booth. I look to Kennedy, and am met with her jaw hanging at her chin. She picks it up and her lips turn to a frown. A thin man hands her a teddy bear and she snatches the toy from his clutch.

"You always do that." Ken mutters under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear. I laugh again, as my two best friends and I travel deeper into the fair. Through my mind, I begin to notice the short time I just spent in complete obviousness to the conflict of today. I would be sad about the returning thought, but I am actually overjoyed that I have two people to pull me out of my mind through its many episodes of paranoia. My head turns unintentionally to each of my friends, I smile wide at the two in thankfulness.

"What's got you all great and gity." Levi asks in amusement.

"Ahh! You are starting to pick up your mom's lingo.." my face cringes at my best friend's old soul. "But anyways, to answer your question Carmen, nothing." I smirk, calling him by his mother's name. Levi stops in his tracks. The only response I receive is a simple hair flip to his nonexistent long hair and a, "My mom is a badass, call me by her name any. Day." Kennedy grabs his hand dragging him along with us again.

He falls into step. A moment of silence passes between us and I start, " I just wanted to say something though...And don't you two dare to get all sappy with me either," I stop to give both of them a sharp warning glare. "I don't say it often, but- Thank you. Thank you both for always being right beside me when I lose my footing, for always chasing me when I start to run, for always picking me up when I fall.

"You guys have been there through everything. The days people would avoid me when bad things happened, and the days I pursued my passions, you guys are my biggest supporters on both. And I am so thankful for that. I love y'all. I really do." I finish with a bit of my own mom's dialogue showing through.

Two pairs of watery eyes stare back at me out of pure love. They both take me into a large hug. The safety and comfort I feel in the midst of their arms was refreshing. I'm sure to other people surrounding us, we looked like a bunch of dumb kids. But, I don't care, that will never kill our moment.

—

My knees are killing me. I can already start to see the purpling of the bones show through at the surface of my skin. I drop to my knees again.

Although Weston may not be leading this practice, I swear this was all his idea. To work on our form of dives and down balls. But the catch is we aren't allowed to wear knee pads. With each move to the ground, my knees are pounded by the concrete gym floor. I avert my eyes from the corner where he stands, his blank face analyzing each person's every move. Especially mine. Countless times my eyes meet his, of which are already staring back at me. His cold hazel eyes searching mine, longing to find something. But with each look, he falls short.

This is all a punishment, I think to myself as I grunt, dropping to the floor for another save. Coach hits another ball. The sound of the contact is my favorite noise, it sings to me. But right now, I hate it. Coach finally lets up after a few more rounds through the drill. We call out practice and head toward the locker room. Each member of my team limps with me, heading straight to the showers. When I finish up and head back to the gym to pick up a few belongings, Coach stops me.

"You were doing good out there, but you need to continue working with Weston. Your form has improved, anyone can see that. But, it is excellent practice, you guys can even start to use the gym to practice together by the end of this week." She says to me with a sincere face. She knows this is killing me. I mask my face to hide any signs of disapproval or uncooperativeness, taking the pill. Coach slaps a hand on my shoulder and shoots me a quick smile before striding out of the gym. I train my eyes at her retreating figure, watching the unsteady pace due to past injuries. I couldn't help but frown. How am I supposed to avoid someone, when I am ordered to be around them? I'll just have to keep it professional.

I draw my phone from my bag, going straight to his contact.

Aurora >>

-coach wants us to still meet. And we have to work on our project.

I remember the semester science project that I am assigned with him. Bubbles shoot across the screen. Typing. I received the text five minutes later.

Weston (bestfriend) >>

-meet me at my house, it's a clear night anyway.

At the bottom of his text he gave me an address. I stare at his contact at the top of my screen. I was reluctant to change it, even when everything ended officially. I hit the info button beside the name and remove the title of "bestfriend". Regret instantly fills me, followed by sadness. In a way, removing such a small insignificant piece to his name brought me to terms with the finality of the situation.

I pull my car, sometime later, into a long winding driveway. I reach the end and am faced with a larger, modern looking home. Much of the walls were made purely of glass being held by a foundation of angular set, dark stained wood. My face twists in surprise. Weston has mentioned his dislike toward his new home but yet it looks very welcoming.

I trek up the sidewalk, nearing the massive front door. Just before I knock, Weston opens it with a blank stare. He nods me inside. I follow him.

The inside of the house is even nicer than the outside, if at all possible. There was a set of floating stairs off to the side of the entrance. Compared to my own house, this was only a bit larger. But, in value it is incomparable. We neared an open concept of a kitchen and living room.

"Stop gawking. Want anything to drink?" Weston asks with a short tone.

I scoff, "No thanks, and sorry. Your home is just so beautiful." He stops and looks at me. He lets out a loud obnoxious laugh.

"I would hardly call this place a home. Especially not mine. You can thank the man down the hall for that." He nods to a long hallway just beyond the steps. I assume he was speaking of his father, but I wonder why he didn't refer to him as just that.

"Come on." He says holding his drink, with his other hand he grabs a blanket off of the simplistic sofa. Weston leads me through a sliding glass door out to a spacious backyard, laying out the blanket on the faultless grass. I lay down gazing up at the sky. He lays the opposite way, but his head rests inches beside mine, upside down.

The two of us gaze at the sky, the colors vibrant from the depleting sun. Weston holds a composition book above him, sketching out the view. There is a heavy silence between us, so I focus on the sounds of nature instead.

"There are a total of 10 different types of clouds, but there are probably 100s of types of formations that don't fall under the categories. We are only searching for 4 different kinds-"

"Cumulus, Cirrus, Stratus and nimbus."

"Exactly." He starts again, "but even those have multiple sub-categories. There may even be one's past that, they just haven't been recorded." He finishes softly.

"You seem fascinated by the sky." I let out a small laugh with that. He nudges me a bit.

He lets out a breath, "I have to admit that I am. I mean look," he holds his arms up, his hazel eyes holding the reflection of the vibrant sky. "The sky holds endless possibilities and no limits. It's constantly changing, being free of and in itself. It holds beauty and sadness. Take a look at it and you can see your smallness compared to the vast world.

"How massive a possibility and chance you are given to go fill that world. I have looked around myself and seen nothing but hatred and simply looked up and been shown hope. That's the beauty in it, truly, how it has the ability for infinite interpretations..." he stops to take a breath. "The sky can be seen from anywhere. It's always dazzling above us. People just need to look up once in a while to really see it."

I take in his speech. I am one of those people. I had to have an assignment on clouds, to finally look up, myself. It's amazing how much thought he put into that. The sky really is limitless.

Weston puts down the note book he had been sketching in above us. I turn my head, to be met with his eyes. Passion flows through them making a bright hazel. They scan my face, meticulously running over every detail. His eyes finally stop to rest on my own but instantly go cold. They never used to do that. His head turns back up, completely. Weston can so easily rip his emotions away, showing no trace of feelings. Just as he is right now. A frown crawls to my lips when I stare at his strong, stoic profile.

"I am one of those people." I admit aloud this time, still hung on the way his face morphed when looking at me.

"We have to watch some game tapes that Coach gave me." I nod and sit up, grabbing my things and walking inside. He follows me. We rest on opposite sides of the couch in front of a large flatscreen. Before he turns it on, I catch his eyes in the reflection of the glass. Guarded and filled with nothingness.

We go through the form and techniques of players from years before me. Coach's tape is a highlight reel of hitters. Weston occasionally stops the tape to review or point out specifics that I should take up on using. The air between us is thick, our conversations flow between it almost mechanically. When the film is over, he pauses before digging a dvd from a box beneath the tv. He sits a little closer when he comes back to watch again. I move the distance further away.

I can easily tell that this is not Coach's tape. It's Weston's. A game starts to play through, I find Weston in the front line of the court on the screen. He is in black and red, which I assume to be his old school colors. The game begins to pan out. Weston stands after each whistle as right side hitter. That's my position. He approaches the ball and swiftly jumps. His air time is the longest I have ever seen from someone. When he smacks the ball, it shoots at top speeds almost directly downward. I gawk at his kill. Weston begins pointing out a few things about his form in the game, trying to drill into my head the significance of fundamentals. My mouth is hung at my jaw, barely any of his words even reach my train of thought. I am still hung up on how good he is. I watch the Olympic Games every year, and the fact that he nearly matches their skill, is insane. Weston clearly excels past his teams level, but I could never have imagined he would be that good.

I hear a chuckle beside me. "I am not showing you this to brag. I just am trying to visually show you that when you have immaculate form you can have an immaculate game."

"Well you sure are immaculate." I mock waving my hands in the air. He laughs, nearly destroying the tension that has been between us the past hour on this couch.

But, he didn't destroy my recurring thoughts. You have to stay away, Aurora, my conscience tells my mind. I scold myself internally for losing professionalism on the few occasions today. I look around me, the once dimly lit house is almost completely pitch black. I check my phone. 8:00 pm. Shit. I look back up at Weston that sits awkwardly on the couch, his eyes trained on the screen.

"I think I should go." I mutter getting up quickly and nearly running for the door. As I near the large steps in front of it, I bump into a wall. But, the wall grunted. Grunted?

I turn to the man standing in front of me. He is clearly middle aged, and looks very much like Weston, just with aged features and different eyes. His father I assume. The man stares back at me, his eyes scan my own. They narrow, and he leans in, seeing something that I know nothing of. I mutter an "I'm sorry," before leaving the house. I shake my head of the short obstacle that was between the safety of my car and me.

Yet, the dark ride back to my home was anything but safe. My mind was overwhelmed and cloudy. The sky is limitless. I look out my window, hoping the sky would provide navigation through the world that is my mind. The stars burn brightly back at me. My face relaxes and I continue down the road. It's amazing, because he is right. I am so small, as are my problems. I shouldn't fixate my mind on unchangeable things. Weston is Weston. Nothing more than a name, nothing personal, nothing with the ability to be lost. I already did lose him, I saw it earlier today in his face. And for once in the past two days, I could live with that. The roaring waters of my mind can finally settle. All thanks to the sky.

—

Hey guys, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, I would love for you to give it a little vote or comment. Also, let me know any of your feedback! Thanks so much for reading this far into the book by the way! There is MUCH more to come, that I am extremely excited about. Anyways, much love for everything! Also, the 200+ reads! :)
Emma <3