"And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?"
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Maya Beaulieu, born and raised in Montreal, has heard the stories about Lance Stroll, the boy who grew up down the street of where she lived. All the reason to stay...
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Trigger warning: panic attacks
August 17th, Montreal, Canada
Brent stayed over last night, since we had a lot to talk about. He has been my best friend since university, where he decided Creative Writing & Journalism wasn't for him, and he dropped out to join the Police Academy, with great succes as he had been a police officer for 2 years now.
Ping.
Lance
Are you coming to the treehouse tonight?
Would you want me to come?
Yes please
"Hi there," Lance's voice is soft, almost fragile.
I turn around, he is just a few meters behind me as we both make our way to the treehouse.
"Hey Lance," I smile at him, but the smile faints when I see how tired he looks, the bags under his eyes are dark, his hair is ruffled, his skin is pale. "Are you okay?"
"I had a fight with my dad, once again." He smiles, but the corners of his lips don't quite reach the height they normally do.
I grab a can of soda from the tote bag on my shoulder, "Here," I reach it out to him. "Maybe some sugar will do you good."
Lance accepts the can gratefully, and smiles again. We reach the treehouse, and I pull myself up before Lance. His eyes are burning holes in my back, so I quickly turn around to see him enter as well.
The silence is comfortable, and I study his face again. He looks more than tired. He looks frustrated, as if something is bothering him.
I open my mouth, but before my words left my mouth, Lance spoke up.
"What's with the kiss on your cheek? Are you and the guy more than friends?"
So, that's what's been bothering him?
"Me and Brent?" I chuckle. "It was just a friendly gesture. We're not romantically involved." I say nonchalantly.
"Oh, okay," Lance nods, but his eyes didn't leave me. "It certainly looked more than 'friendly' to me. Are you sure he sees it that way too?"
"Oh, please. It was a harmless gesture. You're blowing it out of proportion. Brent is my best friend, he has been since for years now."
Lance scoffs, almost unaudible, but I notice the way his lips parts, and he rolls his eyes.
"Were you jealous? Of Brent kissing my cheek?" I have trouble withholding my laugh.
"No," He says defensively. "I was just wondering. You never talk about your friends, so his appearance was so sudden."
