Home for the Summer (BOYXBOY)

7 | Autumn in Vermont

It wasn't until we were five minutes into the drive that I realized exactly how stupid this plan was. "My mom is going to murder us," I said, shaking my head.

"Oh, come on, we'll be back in an hour. She won't even notice we left."

"And what if she goes into the garage for something and notices her car is missing?"

Nicolas shrugged at this, readjusting his hands on the steering wheel. "Your mom has never quite been the murder type. Have you ever even been grounded before?"

"I've never done something worth grounding... Until now! You're a very bad influence."

"I always have been, haven't I?"

I couldn't restrain myself from smiling at this, because he definitely has been. I remember distinctly how on our last day of 4th grade, Nicolas talked me into hiding a frog in our teacher's desk. We were sent to the principal's office and, while I cried in the waiting room, he held the frog, cupped gently in his small hands.

"Whatever," I said. "We could've just biked."

Nico makes a gagging noise at this. "Why bike when I have a license and a car readily available?"

"Then, why couldn't we have just asked my mom?"

"It's less fun if we have permission."

I hugged my knees to my chest and shook my head again. "If we get into a car crash and die, I am going to be so mad at you."

He swerved the car slightly to the left at this and I jumped, cueing him to laugh hysterically. "You're such a baby! God, Ollie. Trust me."

"Fine," I mumbled, staring out my window. "So, why are we doing this again?"

"I told you already; I'm craving a cherry diet coke."

"No, I mean, why are we driving to an diner 15 minutes away when there's one literally a block from my house?"

"Oh, I don't know. I liked this place as a kid. And I wanted to drive for a while. And, maybe, I like talking to you." Nicolas flashed a smile and I felt my stomach tighten.

"Yeah, sure. Okay. I like talking to you, too. But, we can talk at the house, you know."

"Can we?" I tilted my head and Nicolas's eyes realigned with the road. "It's like you hate me when we're at the house. I know that's stupid... But, we only get along when we're at Benji's or at the beach or somewhere that isn't there."

My breath hitched and, for a moment, I felt real guilt brewing in my gut. I. Am. Such. An. Asshole.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know that I haven't really been a terrific roommate so far, but I swear, the rest of summer, I will be the peppiest, most talkative friend you have ever had." He smiled at this before I continued. "And, I never hated you. I just missed you. Like, a lot. And, now, it's like I barely know you."

Nicolas clicks his tongue. "That's fair enough. What do you want to know?"

"Um... what kind of hobbies do you have?"

"I play hockey. And I work at an animal shelter."

"Really?" Hockey? That explains the muscles.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I, uh, I read. And I work at that gelato place... which you already knew. And I play a bit of volleyball."

"Right, you played volleyball as a kid, too."

"Oh. That's right."

"Okay, I get to ask a question now."