Before You Go | A Prequel

3.2 | The Accident

"I CAN'T STAY OUT for too long," Nico mentioned as he glanced over. He breathed a sigh. He hated feeling like a child with his words, "I have to be back by five."

"Seriously?" Charlie cringed as his eyes flicked to the clock on his console. His hands remained on the wheel, "What's happening at five?"

"Uh...," Nico trailed off, searching for some good-enough explanation, although anything was better than 'because my Mommy said so,' and the thought made him sick, "I just gotta handle some stuff back at the house."

Charlie snorted, "What sort of stuff?"

Nico looked away, his eyes finding the window as he wished his friend would simply drop it. The rich blue waters of the Atlantic zoomed far below as they crossed Bridgestreet, the creatively named strip of road which served as the sole connector of the island of Heavensport to the rest of the world. The only other option was the ferryboat, which moved at a maximum speed of eight miles an hour, and smelled notoriously of piss and trout. Nico had only ridden it twice, both times with dad, on days when Bridgestreet was shut down but he needed to get into the office.

The office. The thought of the building gave him pause. He hadn't been there since it happened. The cops had cleared it as a crime scene, but Nico had been told not to go back until forensics had a chance to do a full clean-up. Whether that happened or not, Nico didn't know. He had his hands full, and zero intent of stepping back into that tomb of a building any time soon. At least not for a few more years.

"Hey? Nico? You there?"

The voice he'd been longing to hear pulled him back from his sad thoughts, and he smiled. Charlie's kind brown eyes were shrouded by the lip of his blue baseball cap. A concern darted within them, like he could sense something was wrong. He always could— better than anyone else Nico had ever known. It scared him sometimes. Made him feel naked— vulnerable. Yet with Charlie, there was never any judgment, only understanding. And where there wasn't understanding, there was patience. Grace. He didn't hold it against Nico when he clammed up, or got short with him after phone calls home. He just gave him space, but never too much. He'd be there in the background, pitting around their dorm while Nico silently fumed. His presence, a reassurance— 'If you need me, I'm here.'

"Yeah." Nico smiled, "I'm here."

The concern melted from Charlie's eyes, but it didn't leave completely. A small smile played on his lips, one which didn't pry (he rarely did) but failed to hide his curiosity. He wanted to know. He always wanted to know. But, Nico didn't always want to talk.

Today, however, was going to be a good day. It was their day. He'd hardly seen his friend all summer, and summer was ending soon. Charlie would be returning to Harvey, no doubt. Nico would be in school, but he wouldn't be there— living together. Eating together. Doing everything as a pair. He didn't really realize until he had to come home, but their last year had been the happiest year of his life.

"So," Nico rolled his shoulders back with a sigh. The road stretched ahead of them, the blue sea falling away as the building on the mainland grew taller and closer, "What exactly is at a boardwalk? You just... walk around or... what?"

Charlie grinned as he scoffed a laugh, "You mean you've never been?"

Nico shook his head, "Not that I know of," he shrugged, "My parents took my sister and I up to Coney Island a few times when we lived in New York, but I was too young to remember any of that. Is it like, sit down board-games, or—"

His buddy snorted, and it was all the confirmation Nico needed to know he was way off track. He sighed as he rolled his eyes. Charlie and the rest of their friends were constantly poking fun at him for the movies he hadn't seen, places he hadn't been, things he hadn't done. And Nico never had much good of an answer besides, "We just didn't do that stuff."

His dad was all about the firm, and his mom was all about his dad. The closest thing his family ever did in terms of vacations were Beach Days, and the beach was in their backyard. But even Beach Days had been a thing of the past for some time.

"Well, it's uh... kind of like a carnival? You ever been to one of those?"

Nico shook his head. He turned away when his jaw tightened under the impression that Charlie had to know the answer to that question, as it was the same as all the other times. 'You mean you've never been to Disney World?' No. 'What about Universal?' Nope. 'Not even a Six Flags?' Never.

In Charlie's defense, he always did seem genuinely surprised, in the same way he would be genuinely confused when Nico would stress the things that he would figure as no big deal.

'Your dad's really gonna ride you for not acing one exam?'  Yes. 'Do you have to show your parents all your grades?' Also yes. 'You do know, you're technically an adult? What are they gonna do if you just tell 'em no? Pull you out of school?' Probably. They'd probably bury him in the beach out back too— if he was lucky.

"No," he confessed, "No, I've never been to the carnival."

"Huh. Well. Okay, uh... yeah! It's kind of like that... but, uh... with a boardwalk, it's on a pier, like, over the water, yeah? I mean I'm sure you've seen it in like, TV shows and movies, though right? Like— you know what a ferris wheel is, yeah? That's the big wheel, with the buckets and it spins in a—,"

"Yeah, I-I know what a ferris wheel is," Nico chuckled, and Charlie grinned bashfully at him as he shrugged.

"Sorry."

Nico smiled. He couldn't help it. Charlie's joy, his optimism— it was contagious. He couldn't be mad at him if he tried, although he'd yet to have a real reason to actually try. Angry and Charlie were two words on two different planes. Charlie was the one who kept him grounded throughout the whole year. Kept him laughing. Kept him from taking himself all too seriously. He was the one getting him out of the dorm, making him socialize, introducing him to friends. He even drove Nico's car when he got The Call that morning. He insisted.

Even now, he still acted as the calm in the storm. A saving grace out of the dark. He was more than just a friend. Charlie was kindness, embodied. He was safety. 

He was peace.