Best Friends Forever

Amir

Amir woke up feeling terrible. He didn't get much sleep.

Of course, he was worried about Angel. He spent most of his days worried about him.

He sighed and groaned as he got out of bed and walked into his bathroom, groggily grabbing his toothbrush.

He began brushing his teeth, afterwards washing his face and carefully examining his appearance.

The next part of his routine: waking up Angel.

Angel usually was in a daze, and Amir felt as if he had to take care of him, starting with making sure he woke up at a decent time.

Amir walked outside of his room, saying hello to his grandmother who had slept on the couch. "Nana, go in your room," he told her, then kissed her on the forehead. He helped her up, walking her to her bedroom and making sure she got in the bed comfortably before going to Angel's room.

"Angel!" he knocked on his door.

No answer.

But that's not unexpected.

"Angel!" he knocked again. No answer.

He groaned in frustration as usual, turning the knob. "Angel?" he called out more softly. He looked around his dark room. It looking worse than normal. He looked over to Angel's bed. He wasn't there.

Amir felt immediate panic. He rushed to his bed, moving the covers around like Angel would magically appear.

He ran out of the room, and back to his grandmother's room where she lay. "Granny, you seen Angel?" he asked slightly breathy.

"N-no, son, I haven't," she spoke groggily. "He's probably strung out somewhur,"

"Granny, please," he spoke.

"I'm just saying, Amir. You gotta stop worryin' 'bout that boy. I told you he was on the wrong path,"

Amir sighed face palming himself as he walked back out of her room. It's not like Angel has never done this before, but for some reason, Amir felt differently about it.

This felt different. It wasn't based off of anything except the feeling he got deep in his bones.

He recalled everything Angel said yesterday.

His legs started to bounce up and down, and he anxiously began to bite his nails.

"Fuck, Angel!" he exclaimed. He pulled out his phone in an attempt to call him, but his heart dropped when he heard the familiar ringtone reverberating through his house. He left his phone.

Amir looked at his own phone. It was 8:02. He was late for class. "Shit!" he cursed running to the bathroom and getting ready.

He rolled his eyes, thinking that Angel was probably doing some bullshit again. He probably high fucking that girl. Now I'm annoyed. Amir thought as he went to his room, grabbing his school essentials.

That's what usually happens, but Amir couldn't help but have a gnawing thought in the back of his head that said: go look for him.

He shook his head. "Angel can handle himself," he muttered in pettiness. Putting on his clothes and heading out for class.

...

Amir sat in his art history class, aimlessly looking at the projector.

He couldn't focus.

His mind was being consumed by Angel. Where is he?

Every ten or so minutes, Amir would check his phone, to see if he had called or texted. Hell, if he even posted on social media or something. Just something. Anything to let him know that he was okay.