Scratches // DNF

Chapter 11

Dream and George were always creatures of habit.

That much had been evident from the moment we'd first pondered moving in together. As we'd traded tired words over the phone, I quickly noticed that Dream hadn't even thought it was in question for us not to join him in Orlando.

I didn't find this a problem, I was fine with moving anywhere. I was tired of Texas and ready to follow them wherever. I was, however, very clearly the only one with that mindset.

After a few rounds of bickering, it was obvious luring George away from his hometown was proving to be a challenge. He had also made the assumption that we'd move near him, despite him still living with his parents.

Dream convinced him to at least visit Orlando. He told me in private that the trip was a ruse with the hope of making George fall in love with Florida.

And so George and I flew to Orlando and met each other, and Dream, for the first time in person. As I've said, it wasn't particularly strange. It's not so different talking to someone over a headset as it is to see their mouths move with expressions accompanying their words. I was simply happy to finally have some of the freedom adulthood had promised, and couldn't wait to start planning my future with less-pixelated versions of my friends.

Before Dream even showed us where he lived, he swept us and our heaps of luggage to a random park, sparsely filled with life.

George and I were tired from our flights and craved rest, even for just a few minutes. But Dream was insistent and led us down a windy mud path, almost fully concealed with wild shrubbery and sprouting samplings.

We grudgingly followed, muttering complaints and struggling to wheel our suitcases down this ridiculous path, completely unsuited for wheels.

When Dream eventually came to a stop we just... shut up. Our negative words faded into nothingness as we arrived at a location with an almost sacred appearance.

I felt as if we'd disrupted a secret garden. There was a high-pressure stream of water pouring from a crack of a rock. This stream eventually fell into a body of water, large enough to fill a small swimming pool. The natural spring had leaves and trees and nests and every tropical-looking plant in existence coating its edges and buried within tall strands of grass. The heaps of greenery drew wild, messy shadows across the calm water, disrupting its peace.

Large walls of rock enclosed us within this section of the city. It made us feel isolated, as if it had revealed itself for us and us alone.

Of course that wasn't the case, there was another group of friends perched above one of the many rocks. They had a picnic blanket to erase the chill of the rock and were whispering quietly to one another, as if afraid to attract imposters to this secret location.

Dream led us to the opposite end of the strangers, through brambles and plants, and slumped onto a patch of grass. He looked expectantly to his side, guiding us to sit by him.

George began descending to a seat, but I quickly grabbed his forearm to drag him back upward.

"Do either of you ever think?" I'd said, swinging my suitcase onto its side so I could unzip the pocket. I brought out a shirt I didn't care for and chucked it into George's hands. "Sit on that if you don't want it to look like you've pissed yourselves."

I crouched down to pinch some of the dew coating the grass. I playfully flicked it onto Dream's face to remind him he was sitting on all of that wetness.

He stuck his tongue out in mock protest and flinched away from the water droplets, but took the shirt from George's hands and stretched it for the both of them to sit on.