SIXTY

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2015.
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IN 2015, Oscar and Maia were 14—and Oscar was feeling particularly sick to his stomach, but he didn't tell Maia about it when they walked through the gates of their school together, side-by-side the same way they always did.

They were usually always the last of the school kids who waited to be picked up, just so they could hang out for a while before they left.

But, that day, it felt different.

It was different.

"What's at the top of your bucket list for Europe?" Maia asked, unwrapping a piece of gum and plopping it into her mouth.

She'd been nothing but supportive of his move, of his next step into his journey to become a professional at his little hobby; even when they're gonna be miles and hours apart from one another.

There's about an 8 or 7 hour time difference between Melbourne and London—or, at least he thinks—and he's not even sure if London is gonna be his permanent stay-place when he gets there. It's just where his parents thought would be best to go for the time being as he gets up on his feet in racing.

Maia wasn't upset with him for going.

Why?

Why not?

He expected her to try to stop him, make some argument out of thin air like how they liked to always mess around, but she hasn't.

He supposed he should've expected it. She'd always been first in line, waving signs of support and cheering him on during races.

'One of the greats,' she had said one day when they were a bit younger than this.

Could he really? Could he be one of the greats?

"Hello-o-o? Earth to Osc? Are you okay?" Maia asked, and when Oscar had looked up, he saw her face washed over with worry.

They were sat on the concrete ground in front of their school, backpacks posted up on the fence behind them and legs crisscrossed like elementary kids. This was what was familiar to them.

Tomorrow, he'll never get to experience this again.

"Yeah, I'm good. Um," Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. "'Bucket list'? I guess like, all the tourist-y stuff first, obviously. Big Ben and that sort of stuff."

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