Fifteen minutes passed in complete silence before Vincent softly cleared his throat. "Where exactly are we going?" he asked in a tone that gave the boy in the driver's seat no insight into his thoughts. He had spent the last few minutes drawing with his finger on the passenger side window, which had been completely fogged by the heated air inside the car. A small, half-smudged, sad smiley face stared back at him from the cold glass. The rustling of his friend's white and red college jacket made Vincent suspect that he had once again just shrugged his shoulders. The painter began looking outside his side window. Trees and the dark facades of a few houses seemed to fly past them and disappear into the darkness behind them. He pursed his lips at the sight and let his gaze wander back to the boy behind the wheel. "Well that's stupid" he said under his breath putting his paint stained hands into the soft pocket of his green, checkered jacket. "It is." whispered the other in response. They lingered in silence again. "Imagine you're on a deserted island." Vincent suddenly suggested breaking the silence like a fragile piece of porcelain. "There are only you, a person of your choice and a knife there. What do you do?" He can see the amused expression of the teenagers face next to him in the darkness of the vehicle. He opened his mouth for a second only to immediately press his Lips back together. After he seemed to have finally gathered his thoughts he opened his mouth back up again. „Why would I ever find myself in that situation?" He wondered out loud with a grin of his face. Annoyed by what Vincent would barely consider an answer the smaller boy sat up in his seat. "I don't know" he blurted out. "It's a hypothetical situation. Just answer the question." "Well it's unrealistic." The dark haired boy exclaimed, his grin not leaving his face. "I would simply leave." He continued in a humming tone. "Wha-" Vincent begins in disbelieve at his companions answer. "You can't just leave!" He snaps back at him, gaining a half-hearted "Sure I can." in response, leaving him even more irritated. "No you can't!" he protested. "Tell me how! How would you 'just leave'". The red head raised his eyebrows, irritated at Johns grin which still hadn't left his lips. "Boat." The taller one declared as if it was the only logical answer to his question. VanGogh practically jumped out of his seat, feeling as if he was exploding on the inside. "There is no boat!" He howled, his voice beginning to sound desperate. "You are on a deserted island with one other person and a knife. No boat. Nothing else." The freckled boy spat out, aggressively tapping his index finger on his open palm, exaggerating the seriousness of his demands only to be met with silence once again. "What knife?" John suddenly queried. His gaze still glued to the seemingly endless road in front of them. Vincent groaned flinging his head back. "Fucking- I don't know John. It's a bloody knife." He could hear him drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "Well if it's a butcher Knife it would be helpful. A steak knife too. Sure. But a butter knife-" Vincent immediately interrupted him. "A knife. John. A normal, sharp knife." This gained an understanding nod from the taller one as if this observation had changed everything. "Well." He started back up again. "If I have a Knife and one other person, but no boat-" "No boat." Vincent reassured him aggravated. "Right." He continued. „I would just look for some trees to cut down and built a boat." He finally replied. Vincent huffed, visibly ticked off by John's simple answer. The other just kept grinning at the smaller once enragement. "What about you?" He finally asked, his voice throbbing with satisfaction that he managed to piss the smaller one of. "I'd stab you." He said, still nettled by the conversation. A soft chuckle left Johns lips before they went back to that ear ringing silence Vincent dreaded so dearly at home but didn't seem to mind in Johns company. It almost never was an uncomfortable silence. It lingered like a friendly ghost among them, never making them feel uneasy. "Why do you dumb yourself down at school?" Vincent swiftly muttered not expecting a response. "You aren't stupid. Annoying as fuck. But not stupid." His eyes examined the taller once face waiting for some kind of a reaction to his accusations. John just shrugged his shoulders. And just like that this topic was settled.
They kept on driving. For 5 minutes. Then for 10. Then for 40. Vincent couldn't help but wonder where classmate was taking him. Or if he even had a plan at all. Vincent guessed he didn't. He spend the drive nagging John with different questions and being pissed off at his mostly ironic answers and snarky remarks when he finally decided he couldn't wait any longer to find out where the boy was taking him. His upper lip shivered with anticipation when he opened his mouth to once again question Kennedys knowledge of their whereabouts and destination when he suddenly felt the car slowing down and coming to a halt. He hastily closed his mouth when he noticed the other boys gaze on him. "Well?" Vincent spat at him inquiringly. "Where are we?" Instead of a response Kennedy nodded towards him, signalling for him to get out of the car and shoving open his own door himself. Once they both had set foot outside the tin can John locked the car and walked over to the shorter boy. Vincent was looking around, analysing the scenery before him. They were standing at what seemed to be a parking lot of a small petrol station, the neon signs and light from inside of the shop of which seemed to envelop the surrounding landscape in an unnatural strident glimmer. It was surrounded by a wooded area consisting of mostly pine trees as far as Vincent could tell. He had drawn this kind of tree many times and studied their appearance but even he had trouble identifying them in the darkness of the night which seemed to hover like a rainy cloud over the forest. He could make out the sound of a nearby stream among the other sounds of the woods and nightlife. He gave a confused look to the boy who had brought him here and had been watching him take in all of his surroundings. John met his questioning gaze with a soft snicker. The boy suddenly turned around and began walking to the edge of the parking lot away from the petrol station. "Come on short stack" he announced teasing the shorter on. "I want to show you something." VanGogh paused for a second in an attempt to gather his thoughts but decided to just quickly catch up the boy, not wanting to be left alone in the middle of nowhere. He began following the other into the woods that laid before them.
