The Best Thing

01

Moving across the country has thrown Luke into a constant state of anxiousness. Moving from Nevada, the only place he's ever known as home to move to New York has fucked with him. Despite the therapy sessions he attended to mentally prepare himself for this big life change, all of the anxieties that come with moving across the country have been running through Luke's mind night and day. He is too aware of the fact that he has to learn a new town, meet new people, adjust to a new timezone, get used to the northeastern climate, figure out New York social norms, and figure out how to make this place feel like home. It feels like all the pieces to twenty puzzles have been dumped in front of him and he's forced to complete them all at once. Luke wishes he could ease into one thing at a time, but since it's the fact that he moved from one side of the country to another he really couldn't dip his toe in the water to get used to it.

All of this anxiety is consuming him and it is taking a toll on him more than he actually realizes. Calum, Luke's best friend and roommate, is aware how much this is affecting him. Calum knows Luke like the back of his hand. They've been friends since they were three years old. He knows Luke and his routines well. Seeing those routines change since they both moved out here has set off alarms in his head. Luke is sleeping more, he hasn't finished a single meal, he has no interest in talking, he won't go on their daily walks, and the piano in his room hasn't even been plugged in. Calum thought Luke would get into a groove after a week of being here, but he hasn't. Now he is really starting to worry about him.

Calum lightly knocks on Luke's door.

"Hey, it's almost noon," Calum says calmly as he pokes his head through the door. Luke grumbles and pulls his blanket over his head. "You can't rot in here all day."

"Yes I can," Luke protests.

"Luke..." Calum drags.

The blond huffs and pulls the blanket off his head, "Can you at least make chocolate chip pancakes?"

"If you promise to go on a walk with me," Calum bargains.

"I don't want to. I don't know the neighborhood," Luke says.

"You're not gonna learn the neighborhood if you don't explore it," Calum makes an excellent point and Luke has no argument. But the thought of walking around the new neighborhood sounds like the most uncomfortable thing ever. Getting out of his comfort zone this early in the day sounds downright terrible.

"Why must you say things like this?" Luke takes the blanket off of himself entirely and sits up in bed. His hair is a curled up mess from a restless night of sleep.

"Somebody's gotta challenge that brain of yours," Calum smiles at his tired friend.

"Hmm," Luke hums, "guess so."

"Alright, go shower or do whatever you gotta do to get ready to go for a walk. I'll get to those pancakes," Calum ends the conversation and leaves the room.

This leaves Luke alone in his room again and this time fully conscious, not slippin in and out of sleep. He glances over to his alarm clock on his night stand. It's 11:43am. Which means it's 8:43am back home in Nevada. His heart sinks for what seems like the millionth time this week. Nevada isn't home anymore.

Home is here. Home is Mayersville, New York. Luke reminds himself.

"Mayersville," He whispers to himself. Then he decides to chop it up, "May-ers-ville."

Luke continues to speak this as he stands up from his bed. The town name, broken up into three syllables, repeatedly rolls off his tongue as he makes his bed. Perhaps if he thinks about how the words feel in his mouth, he can commit it to memory that this is the place he should be referring to as home now. In reality, it is just getting him to stop thinking about Nevada.