Fragments of Us

Chapter Thirty-Three: Ride

Atlas zipped his duffel bag and set it by the door. He paused for a moment, staring at it as if gathering the energy to move. His mom's voice echoed from downstairs. "Atlas, are you ready?"

He inhaled deeply and called back, "Yeah, coming!"

The past few days had been manageable. Being home with his parents provided a comfort he hadn’t felt in years. The ache in his chest remained, but their presence made it tolerable. Their laughter, the little routines, even Sally’s fussing—it was like a balm for the cracks in his heart.

Grabbing his bag, Atlas descended the stairs. He saw Ali outside, loading the van with tents and coolers. Sally was darting around the house, unplugging electronics and checking locks. She was meticulous as always, her way of ensuring everything was in order before they left.

   “Mom, I think you’ve checked the stove twice already,” Atlas teased lightly, watching her double-check the front door.

   “And I’ll check it one more time before we go,” she shot back with a grin. “You know me, typical mom.”

Atlas shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Seeing her like this, energetic and excited, brought a warmth to his chest.

Once everything was packed, they climbed into the van. Sally was practically buzzing with excitement, and Ali wore a relaxed grin as he adjusted the rearview mirror. Atlas settled in the back, resting his bag on the seat beside him.

   “It’s sad that Milo couldn’t make it,” Sally remarked, glancing at Atlas in the mirror.

Atlas stiffened slightly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “Yeah,” he murmured.

   “But it’s fine,” Sally continued. “We’ll have fun regardless.”

Atlas nodded but stayed quiet. He leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes for a moment. Memories of Milo flooded his mind.

He could almost see it—Milo sitting next to him in this very van, teasing him about something trivial while the wind tousled his hair through the open window. Their camping trips had always been filled with playful banter and lighthearted arguments. Milo insisting on taking the scenic trail even though it was longer, Atlas rolling his eyes but secretly enjoying the way Milo’s face lit up when they reached a breathtaking view.

There were moments when they’d argue over who got to set up the tent, their voices rising until Sally intervened with a laugh. But no matter how heated things got, they’d always make up. Milo would crack a joke or flash a sheepish grin, and Atlas’s frustration would melt away.

He remembered the nights around the campfire, Milo leaning into him as they shared a blanket. The way Milo’s laughter echoed in the stillness of the forest. The quiet moments when they’d gaze at the stars, their fingers brushing together.

The ache in Atlas’s chest deepened. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself back to the present.

   “You guys ready to go?” Ali asked, his hand hovering over the ignition.

Atlas nodded, and Sally turned in her seat to flash him a smile through the rearview mirror.

Just as the van began to roll out of the driveway, a sudden knock on the window startled them.

Ali hit the brakes, and all three of them turned toward the sound.

Atlas’s heart skipped a beat as he saw who it was. Milo stood outside, slightly out of breath, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

   “Milo!” Sally exclaimed, rolling down her window. “What are you doing here?”

Milo gave a small, uncertain smile. “Can I still come?”