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32.

Dakota's Point Of View

Today's the day. The day we leave. It's sad really. The fans were super nice and I hit the crossbar. Whoo hoo! I'll have to tell Brandon that when I get home.

It's 9 in the morning and we're supposed to be out of the hotel by 10. Our flight is at 2:00pm. I've already finished packing. So has Clay, Reid, and Nathan. So I asked them if they wanted to go on a walk while the others were finishing packing.

Nathaniel's wearing grey Patagonia shirt with a grey American Eagle sweatshirt, some black basketball shorts, grey, black and white Nike shoes, a black, grey and white beanie that says Chicago, and of course black, grey and white Nike elites. Him and Reid always wear mid calf socks. Don't know why. It's only 40 degrees farhenheit though. It's freezing and he's in shorts. He's also been a little jumpy.

Reid's wearing a black American Eagle shirt, a black to grey gradient sweatshirt, white flat front shorts, black Vans, a black snapback that says NH for New Hampshire and of course, NIKE ELITES. Surprise surprise. They're customized though, because they're a grey scaled galaxy. Still freezing out. Why shorts.

Clay's wearing tan pants, black Nike shoes, a dark grey shirt that says "The Balance Of Opposites in blue letters, and a grey plaid. At least he's not in shorts.

I'm wearing dark denim jeans, a grey American Eagle shirt that says "We All Can, American Eagle," a black Under Armor sweatshirt, and black combat boots.

"I think that this trip was a success," I say.

We're walking in town. Not doing much.

"Agreed," Reid says.

"Yeah. It was fun," Nathaniel says.

"How long does it take them to pack?" Clay asks.

"Ha. No idea," Reid says.

"Hey, do you guys wanna stop here and take a look?" I ask as we stand outside a clothing shop.

"Sure," Clay mumbles.

"Yeah," Reid says.

Nathaniel just shrugs. I'm not positive but I think that Shane's been texting him lately. But I'm not sure if Nathaniel has been reading or replying to them.

"Clay. I did not say that," Reid says.

"Say what?" I ask Nathaniel.

"This has been a long argument going since we got here," he says.

"Oh. I must've been in my thoughts," I say as we walk in, "Nathaniel. I've been thinking. How've you been?"

"Fine," he says.

"So what's been going on with Shane?" I ask.

"Just some bullshit," he says.

"How's your hand," I say.

"Fine," he says.

They didn't even put him in a cast this time. It's just a soft black brace and a sling.

"And how's everything else?" I ask.

"Dakota I'm fine. Really," he says, and sighs, "Sometimes I want to fucking kill myself, put a bullet in my head, but right now I don't want to fucking kill myself as much so please. Keep it that way."

Tears start to form in his eyes. I hug him. His tears make my sweatshirt a little damp.

"I'm... I'm... S-sorry," he stutters when we pull apart, "I'm... I... Not supposed to... uh... do that."

"Nathaniel. Just because you're a boy doesn't mean you can't cry because boys do cry too. I've been through it with lots of people, including my own brother," I say.

"Listen. I'm so sorry that you have to put up with me like this," he says wiping his eyes.

"Hey, hey, don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong. I shouldn't have asked," I say.

"I don't mean just today, I mean everyday since you wanted to help. Because that day is the day that I brought you into my life. My living hell. But you don't deserve to suffer with me, so if you want you can just leave from my mess," he says.

"Nathaniel. I regret nothing about helping you. Nothing at all. All I want to do is help and honestly I think you've made progress since the day I officially met you," I say.

"Thanks," he says.