It Doesn't Even Matter

Pirates and paris

The next day I don't regret it. I want to tell Brit everything. Everything is just- I'm eleven again sitting on the front step of the building with Oliver and Lucas when Lincoln walks up. I can't tell her about that, or the night almost two years later. Or anything about what Oliver and I have talked about together. Or anything at all that even sounds similar to the shapes Lincoln's name makes.

So not everything then, just the stuff that matters. The people who mattered and that will be enough. "Hey," I look up from my spot on the back deck at Brit's voice and smile at her as she walks over to join me.

"Hey, how did you sleep last night?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that."

"You go first."

"Ok I guess, I was just worried about you and Drew but I slept ok."

"Sorry to worry you."

"That's a stupid thing to apologize for." It's tense between us, not really awkward just stiff. Casual conversation feels out of place here. "Your turn."

"Badly. Not because of you, just a little shaken up."

"That makes sense. I'm sorry about-"

"That's a stupid thing to apologize for." I interrupt her finally getting a small smile. "Ok, your turn again. Ask me something so I have a place to start."

"Max, you do know I trust you don't you?"

"Yeah." My voice cracks a little as I let my hands play with the old tattered sweatshirt I'm wearing and barely fits now. It was his. The only reason I can still wear it is because it was a hammy-down from his brother first. "I'm just ready to tell you." I meet her eyes and find a kind of sincerity in them that only reaffirms that decision.

"Ok, then I'm ready to listen. But I wouldn't know what to ask." She frowns, a sort of fragile look taking over her face like she's worried about me. I don't want her to be worried about me.

"I love you."

"I love you too." We sit and watch the clouds moving over the pool. I try to think of a proper beginning to the story I'm about to tell. But then we never really did anything proper so I finally decided just to start and see what comes out.

"When I was five I met Oliver. He was quiet at first, the same person he is now just super shy. I came downstairs to play and he was sitting on our apartment building's front stoop with the smallest sliver of chalk you can probably imagine in his hand. I asked if I could join him and he just silently passed me his piece. We sat there all day drawing things with it, somehow making that little piece last. We drew a whole jungle. My greatest masterpiece if you were to ask me." She giggles a little smiling. "Elephants, trees, monkeys, a zebra, it had everything." I say realizing I'm now talking with my hands and that this is all a lot easier to tell her about than I thought it would be. "Lucas came next, a couple of weeks later I think and he was definitely not shy. He talked enough for all three of us. But not in an annoying way just in the way of someone who knows how to fill the space between words when the person you're with is clearly uncomfortable and needs to laugh. He had this old book of knock-knock jokes. Frayed at the edges clearly well-loved if we didn't know that already by the fact he brought it with him everywhere and didn't need to open it to tell you something royally stupid. My favorite was one about pirates. I was really into pirates that year." I turn to her grinning and she laughs again. This feels nice actually, talking about him and talking to her about him.

"Do you remember what it was?"

"Oh yeah, I made him repeat it a million times until Oliver tackled the book away from him one day and said if I asked him to tell the joke again he'd flush the book down the toilet."