The Guilt Trip [slow updates]

[24] Friends

No way was she going to fall asleep.

   In dubiousness, Skipper stared at the earbuds Wade had given her. Vivid visions of the day filled her exhausted mind. The terror brought on by the coaster. Wade retching miserably into the trash receptacle. Waterslides. Hot, salty fries.

   Sitting up, she put the earbuds in the cupholder and crawled over his seat, opening the door and peering down at him. He sat leaned back against the vehicle, head inclined to the night sky. But his eyes were closed. Quiet and careful, she sat in the driver's seat and leaned out the open door just enough to speak to him. "Are you mad at me?"

   His right eye opened and it glanced at her. "Why would I be mad at you?"

   She shrugged. "Maybe you're upset that I'd want us to be friends."

   "Nah, it doesn't necessarily upset me..." Both eyes opened and he rubbed the back of his head as he turned to face her. "However, it does seem kind of pointless. You're dying, after all."

   "So deny me companionship because I'm not going to be around eventually? Is that how this works?"

   "Yeah. Sure."

   "You're worse than I thought."

   "Nobody's perfect," he muttered, blowing a small breath past his lips. Skipper lingered a few moments more in the driver's seat before descending and closing the door, sitting beside him and tipping her head back against the vehicle's metal exterior to gaze at the stars.

   "Aren't you basically just giving up by taking this trip?" Wade finally queried, being the first to pull his gaze from the sky.

   Skipper shrugged, pushing her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

   "I mean, like, you were in advanced courses and you were going to college even though you were obviously really sick. Why did you choose to see the world instead of...y'know...chasing your future? You could have still had a career, even if..." he seemed unsure how to continue.

   The girl was silent for a long while, continuing to stare at the celestial jewels above. Her eyes were glassy as though they held back tears, and Wade questioned within himself whether or not he should have said anything. He didn't like making her cry. It was stupid. And he didn't like being the source of someone's pain, even if teasing her was unbearably fun. He didn't like that he never knew what to say to her.

   Maybe she was right. Maybe they did need to be friends. Friends knew what to say to each other, right? He couldn't say he knew for sure–his friends hadn't really been friends in the true sense of the term. Sure, he'd had plenty of good acquaintances over the years, but no one ever really stayed. No one was ever there when he really needed them. And he deeply resented being a single child, as that meant he had no siblings to have as companions either.

   But why befriend a dying girl when she was going to disappear too? He probably would've been her friend years ago, had he not succumbed to peer pressure.

   Would things have been different?

   He certainly wouldn't be stuck in this predicament now. Problem was, despite the fact that deep down he was crying out to be her friend, to accept her, his pride wouldn't allow it. The part of him that didn't trust anyone, the part that was still so hurt, refused to accept friendship from someone who wasn't going to be around much longer.

   He hadn't told her, but recently he'd been feeling like her time was rapidly growing shorter. He didn't know if she felt it too, but figured she probably did. After all, she was the one dying, was she not? He was merely a sensitive man.