may shatter on impact (tronnor)

72. Hopeless Futures & The Prettiest Things

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it, Troye?"

I blinked at the change in conversation. "Y-yeah."

"But see that cloud? The only one in the whole sky." I nod, eyes following his finger pointed at the sinister blue and white sky. "It's going to rain later, and it's going to be because of that cloud. But for now, it just looks pretty. It's funny, how the prettiest things can hide the worst storms, isn't it?"

"I - I guess."

"I think that's why I like this place. I mean Mom died not twenty feet away but this place is so pretty and peaceful it almost covers up all the horror of the cliffs."

"Ignorance is bliss."

"Sort of," he mutters, closing his eyes. "I can almost pretend that it didn't happen because how could anything bad happen in a field full of flowers?"

"Appearance isn't everything."

"Are you just going to respond to everything I say with popular adages?"

I crack a smile as our eyes meet and I can see the trace of a joke in his eyes. "Yes. No. Maybe so."

"Oh my God," he groans.

It's silent for a moment, both of us watching the waves.

"What are you going to do after school?"

"What?"

"I mean for like college and stuff."

"I have absolutely no idea. I'll probably just find a nice college somewhere and learn about taxes and running a business or something else equally boring."

"Not songwriting, or singing?"

I listen to the waves for a moment, feeling the weight of Connor's stare. "I'd love to, but...I don't know if I could deal with not making it, or the crowds if I do make it."

"I think you could, some time in the future."

"Your faith in me is kind of terrifying, Con." He smiles at that. "What are you going to do?"

He shrugs. "I'll probably just take over my Dad's woodshop. Keep working at Starbucks and maybe I'll find a nice McDonald's." He leans back onto the rock. "Mum always wanted to make more money so that all four of her kids could go to college. But...my future isn't quite as bright anymore."

"You don't know that."

"There's barely enough money to keep me at Oak Hill, Troye. That could run out any day now, and I'm already working two jobs, I can't afford college on what we have."

"You don't need college to be successful," I argue, looking down at his perfectly sculpted face and eyes the color of the waves that I look over at next.

"Sure, Troye."

He looks over at the waves again and I know he doesn't believe me. But then he turns to Suicide Rocks and I know he's blaming his mom for the lack of a future he can see. He's missing her, and wishing she was still alive - but partly for what he views as his own selfish needs - and then he's feeling guilty for wishing that; a mess of feelings and thoughts hidden away and guilty wishes and hopeless futures. What he said earlier really is true - the prettiest things can hide the worst storms.