Paper Hearts (Phan)

5 days

Dan had insisted we skip class that day. "You got an A on that chapter test yesterday," he'd said and stuck out his bottom lip dramatically, trying desperately to convince me to ditch with him "and you deserve a break."

So I followed him off campus the back way, and we snuck around to the parking lot and hopped on his little electric scooter, which he still insisted I drive, and headed down to this new ice cream shop that had recently opened up. The sign as we pulled up read "Cammie's" which seemed friendly enough, and to my expectations it was.

"I hope this is as good as it looks," Dan sighed and grabbed the crook of my elbow like I was escorting him through the door, which I wasn't complaining about, and followed me inside.

Little blue and grey paper lanterns hung from the purposely unfinished ceiling and the tables looked retro yet futuristic at the same time. The display case also looked retro too, as did most everything else. Overall it had a nice homely feeling, definitely a sensation I didn't expect from a store stocked full of ice cream. I wasn't complaining though. It was nice.

He got the vanilla and I got the chocolate, and we paid without getting toppings since they were extra, and took a seat outside where the music wasn't as loud and there weren't sticky kids running through your legs evert time you turned around.

"Have you been feeling okay lately?" I asked him out of the blue and I almost regretted it.

"Peachy."

"I don't believe you." I said and instantly wished I could take those words back.

"I don't either." Dan shrugged simply and started scraping at the sides of his ice cream cup with the spoon. And then I remembered that Chris would probably be pissed that we got his favourite food without him, but then the memory of him saying he was quitting on the ice cream for a while resurfaced and it was okay again.

He set the plastic cup down along with the blue plastic spoon and rested his chin on his hands, and it looked like he was about to drift off to sleep before he started talking.

"Life is very frustrating, Phil," he said "It's a never ending line that curves and twists so many times you feel like you're going to puke and then it'll be mellow for a little while to give you a false sense of control before it throws you for a sharp turn directly down an abyss with no escape like the previous ones."

"Well you're not wrong." I told him and he giggled shortly, the smile lingering for a moment longer than his laugh had. "My mum and dad always say 'when life gives you lemons, they're probably poison'"

"Your parents are cool." Dan grinned. The wind whipped through his hair and blew it in his face, but he made no effort to fix it back to its usual position.

"As cool as parents can get."

"Which, in this case, is pretty cool."

I didn't argue with it because 1) he was just going to keep going and 2) they were pretty cool so I couldn't disagree with him.

And then I realized the baggy shirt was gone and his ripped jeans were back and he was starting to resemble himself again, except for it still didn't feel like it was really him. He still smelled like watermelon candies and pencil shavings but it wasn't him. Like he was long gone down the road and wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

But I took what I could get, and made myself believe this was really Dan.

__________

"Have you ever wondered why I've fallen for 56 people?" Dan asked into the wind as we neared the electric scooter. I told him I guess so and he continued. "Me too, actually probably a lot more than I should be recently. And I've come to the conclusion that it's because I'm just so desperate for someone that I'll try anything. I've figured out that I'm scared to be alone most of the time, or even sleep with the lights on so I won't have to see myself in the mirror across from my bed. 56 people I thought could help me after whatever the hell happened to me, and everything just spiralled into a never ending whirlpool of heart break and the destruction of my entire life and everyone else's around me."

And I looked at him for a second and strapped the plastic lock under my chin and realized maybe Dan really was standing right in front of me and midterms were just getting him down in the dumps, because according to PJ this happened every year. But still something was off and the feeling in my chest kept growing heavier and heavier and I thought, I should probably respond to him, because I hadn't said anything in response yet.

"You haven't destroyed anybody's life, Dan."

And he loosely wrapped his arms around my waist as I sat down and revved the engine, backing up out of the parking spot and heading back to Seacoast.

"I've destroyed my own," he said like he thought I couldn't hear him over the roar of the wind "and I've surely destroyed someone else's."

I almost swerved the scooter into the curb from anger rising in my stomach. I wanted to park and get off and sucker punch him like he does when I'm not paying attention and tell him how much he means to me and everyone else around him and that he hadn't demolished anyone's life, and that he'd made so many just better. Better because of all the puns he'd make and better with his warm tea coloured eyes and the smile that rivalled the stars. And I wanted to shake his shoulders and scream in his face that he was really someone worth living for, but I couldn't.

I didn't, but I wish I did.

I kept driving and swerving through cars all the way back until we reached Seacoast, snuck around the barriers, climbed the fence, and sprinted up the stairs and back to my room.

And we slammed the door shut and stared at each other and broke out in laughter for no reason that didn't cease until 5 minutes later when the final bell rang and everyone came thundering up the stairs.

"That was fun," Dan smiled and started out the door, waving over his shoulder "let's do it again sometime."

The door shut, leaving me in the middle of the empty room with the helmet still strapped around my head and happiness still on my lips.

"To be continued."