2 kids

Seven years of sex and cinnamon.

Alex.

It still smells of sex.

The same smell of sex and cinnamon mixes in the air, balancing each other out somehow. I never thought I'd find myself missing this smell. I never thought it would form a smile on my face.

Life's unpredictable, that's true.

We walk down the familiar corridor, passing a few people by. No one breaks the silence hovering over us. There's nothing to say anyway.

We're the seniors now, it strikes me suddenly. Again for the fourth time today. A different realisation sweeps over me now than the one I felt when I came to say goodbye.

I slow down realising the weight of this single thought. Ace, who's walking a few steps ahead of me, turns around. If he knows, he's not letting it show. I can't tell what's going on in his head.

It's strange having to accept it. Growing up and spending most of my time here, I always watched the older kids come and go, until they only started to come occasionally. Some never came back. I made a silent promise to myself to always return.

The older I got and the closer I grew with Cal, the more I started to realise I'd be one of those kids too. As the years were passing by, after each and every drug bag sold, I returned knowing that for me it wasn't about the dealing. The dealing never meant much to me – I was never in a financially hard situation, I never owe anyone anything. They represented something else, but the original meaning got replaced over the years. It was about the people, the relationships.

Walking through the biggest hangout room, I scan the faces of the kids. There's always been more boys here than girls, and as I can see, it's still the same. Most of the kids are new, their faces don't ring any bells. I wonder where the kids I couldn't recognise last time I was here disappeared too. One thing is certain, I don't like the speed at which the kids are doubling their numbers.

The conversation of us returning here never got brought up. There was no need to, we all knew we wanted to come back. We had to come and say hi. We've said our goodbyes, twice before, but we keep on coming back. There was one question lingering in the air, though. No one dared to say it out loud. Sitting in our living room, all four of us, River broke the heavy silence eventually. "What if someone sees us?" We gave him no answer, and he never asked again. At least the question was out – what if someone sees us? We aren't particularly famous, but we have a certain fanbase. We all keep our lives secret, revealing absolutely nothing, but this is one thing we can't risk getting out. The one thing we have to protect the most.

A group of boys, three years younger than us, catch up with us halfway. We greet each other like good old friends. I remember the first time I saw them here. They were probably just as confused and scared as me, if not more. It didn't take long, and I grew fond of them. In a way they were the exact opposite of us, but at the same time, they reminded me of us.

I put my arm around Caleb's shoulders. "Still dealing?" He nods, giving me a smirk. This boy is even more insane than me. He lives for the adrenaline, literally. I don't fear him getting addicted to drugs. Those substances won't do a thing to him. But I fear him getting too addicted to the adrenaline. Some days I worry there won't be anyone to stop him, like there was to stop me.

"It's been a bit boring without you guys here," Winston admits.

"We're just irreplaceable," Ace says with his typical dramatic tone. "And we bring the fun along."

"I wouldn't agree."

Ace glares at him. "Winston, no one asked for your opinion."

Though Winston rolls his eyes, a small smile lifts the corners of his mouth upwards, as he greets Ace in a proper hug.