Y O U T H (scomiche)

a pitstop

After Scott's graduation from USC, we decided to combine savings and take a much needed vacation. He was worried about not being able to over-pay on his next loan payment, but I insisted we take a trip. He was only a little stressed.

"God, Mitch, why did I ever decide to do this? I don't even need my masters. This is fucking hard." He said to me one night, fighting tears from the finals stress. Our apartment lights had gone out from a storm and he was studying by candlelight.

"It's not about getting the degree, it's about learning more so you can teach more. Ingrain that in your head."

"I have."

"Not well enough, ingrain it more." He laughed. I usually sat on the bed grading tests from my music theory kids while he studied at the desk in our shoebox LA apartment. Living on campus wasn't an option because we didn't feel like going more than five seconds without each other, much less spending nights alone. He put his pencil down, sorted his papers into a straight pile, and shuffled next to me on the bed.

"Do you want to tonight? It's a Friday, so we can sleep in tomorrow. I just bought more condoms."

"Did you get your studying done?"

"I finished Professor Lanchowsky's hellish study guide, made the flash cards for my bio terms, and polished my study guide for History. All of my goals for the day." He gave me a thumbs up.

"Ookay mister, they're your grades. Lemme finish reading Brian's essay." He sat back on the bed and rubbed my back.

"Hey, three more and we'll reach a milestone."

"Of?"

"420!"

"fUckIN bLAzeE ITt DuUUudeE"

We laughed about our past bitter nights. We thought about how we never would have imagined being quite this happy together. We attended each others graduations with family's, even though he decided to be mr. perfect and go for two more years.

Okay, you're probably wondering, what does the ring look like, mitch? you said four years! c'mon, we want details! Well, it just hasn't happened yet. In fact, we talked about it, and we both felt we were still a little too young and the timing wasn't quite right. We're still perfectly happy together, and able to tolerate each other for ten hour plane rides to Europe.

"I can't believe this watch broke the day I bought it." I said to him on our second day in Italy.

"Yeah. I think it's still worth it, your dad's gonna be obsessed with it." He opened the small door to the foreign jewelry shop for me. Inside were glass cases lining the walls, and a desk right in the back. A tiny, old man came forward to the desk and said something foreign.

"Uh, we called earlier?" I said. He put a finger up signaling "gimme a sec" and disappeared into the back. A young man reappeared with him and asked what we needed done in English. We explained the broken watch. He grabbed the watch, said a couple sentences to the old man, and the old man went to a small corner with a stool and a couple drawers of screws and batteries.

"Oh, Mitch, c'mere." Scott walked over to a case and pointed to a stunning gold ring. It had a diamond around the circumference of the ring, and the gold shone so bright you almost needed sunglasses.

"Wow. Imagine having that thing on your finger."

"I couldn't even." He looked around at the surrounding rings, finding the "mens" rings that weren't just boring pieces of silver. They were, of course, titled "engagement rings".

"It's been a little while since we talked about it." He said, his face flushing and a smile on his face.

"Yeah. I know." I said, not meaning to sound a little shady. He knew how much I loved emotional bonding and milestones, and I could tell he didn't want to screw this one up.

"Is the offer still up?" He said. The corners of his mouth couldn't help but go way up, and he swayed back and forth awkwardly, unsure how to be both serious, sappy, and cute (but still managing to do all three).

"What do you mean?" He grabbed my hand and continued to sway back and forth, my knuckles suddenly became very interesting.

"Well, I mean, would you marry me?" My heart fluttered. I looked over to see the old man peeking at us over his glasses, and the young man watching us like we were his regular soap opera. The old man smiled and went back to the watch. Scott leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"What kind would you want?" He motioned towards the rings, probably intending to get one later. I pointed to a silver ring that had, what looked like, a small slice in one side, and diamonds filled the space between it. Scott took a mental note. The old man cleared his throat and we walked back to the front desk, paying him for his work, and walking back to the hotel.

The rest of the trip was really, really stressful, only because I was waiting for him to do it. The get-on-one-knee and I sob scene in a public place, but it didn't come. I was almost disappointed, but still happy we were sort of, kind of official. He kind of looked like he had it figured out. I trusted him.

"We will be landing in the Chicago airport in about twenty minutes time. Please prepare to power off all devices." I looked to Scott, surprised.

"Wait, Chicago? Did you hear that?"

"Yep, they definitely said Chicago." He said, not so surprised. My demeanor changed.

"Scott, why are we going to Chicago?"

"Umm, a pitstop. Only a couple hours."

"You PLANNED THIS?"

"Ssshh. Don't worry, it'll work out in your favor."

He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles. I thought about the fact that he did say he would keep in charge of the boarding passes. This little shit.