Running from You

18

"I hate it. I hate it so much. I don't think I've ever hated-"
"You could just ask for help, you know that right?"
Lucas goes quiet on the other end of my phone, and I already know there's a smile growing on his face.
"Could you? I can't handle it. I keep picking up an item and then I'm not sure if my mom wants me to take it or not..."
"It's fine" I say. "You have your passport ready?"
"I do! It just came in the mail yesterday. The picture is horrible, my mom forced me to comb my hair back".
"I'm sure you look great".
And that's not a lie. The guy could draw on his face with a marker and still look cute.

"My mom said I had to finish packing today" Lucas sighs. "I don't get it, we're not leaving until tomorrow night, I still have an entire afternoon for it".
"Don't blame your parents for wanting to be ready on time. You're quite a lot to deal with in a time of stress".
It's quiet for a while.
"Lucas, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that people need order in a time like this, and you're not the best at keeping order".
"Okay, you're right" he huffs. I smile.
"I'll be there in thirty minutes".

Exactly thirty minutes later, I ring the doorbell. Lucas's mom, Mrs Farell opens the door, and her cheeks flush a little when she sees me. Her hair is messy, her clothes the most casual, baggy attire I've ever seen her in.
"Dean! I didn't know you were coming" she says.
"Just thought I'd help Lucas pack. He sounded stressed".
"Did he call you?" she asks. I nod.
"Oh, that's it. I told him to keep his phone downstairs so he would be more focused!"
She shakes her head, and groans quietly.
"Well, I'm glad you're here. I don't know how Lucas is going to survive without you, honestly" she says, rolling her eyes. I feel my cheeks flush, and chuckle awkwardly. She gives me a look that says "please don't leave us", before whirling around and continuing to work in the house.

I walk upstairs, hoping that the redness in my face dissapears before I arrive in Lucas's room. It doesn't. It gets worse. Because there he is, sitting in all his adorable glory, a big, relieved grin spreading across his face as he sees me. His hair is a ruffled mess, falling over his forehead and half covering his eyes. I've always liked his hair when he wasn't wearing hair gel, it looks... Softer. I want to touch it. No, wait. Stop.
"Hey, sorry. I know I look like shit" he says, and he runs a hand through his hair, trying to get it out of his eyes.

You look gorgeous, you adorable fool.

"Hey" I decide to say instead of that.
"My mom made a list" he says, holding up a piece of paper with some words written on it. "But every time I try to begin packing, I get distracted".
"Let me..."
I snatch the list out of his hands, and scan it. Three outfits for cold weather, three outfits for warm weather, toiletries, some underwear, favorite shoes... Basic stuff. I could totally see how Lucas would forget everything though.
"Okay, shouldn't be too hard. What do you have packed so far?" I ask him. His face turns red, as he points to his open suitcase. A little scared, I look over to it. When I see what's in it, I close my eyes, and rub my forehead. I stay like that for a while.
"Lucas, really?" I ask.
"Sorry, I know it's bad" he murmurs.
"One hoodie, and a spoon" I say. He frowns.
"A spoon?" he asks.
"Yes, a... Look".
I grab the spoon laying in the suitcase, and he smiles.
"Oh, that's where it went. I was eating cornflakes this morning".
"I was at school this morning" I say, rolling my eyes. "It's boring without you".
"I wish I could stay" he sighs. We're quiet for a second, and I can see his shoulders slumping a little. Before he gets too sad, I quickly continue talking.

"Come on, we can do this".
"We?" Lucas whines.
"Yeah, I'm not going to do everything myself. Grab your three favorite hoodies".
"I've already got one" he says wisely. "The one I packed. I knew I wanted to take it".
"Yeah, that's mine" I say, grabbing it. "I was wondering where that went".
"I kind of hoped you wouldn't notice it was yours".
"Of- of course I noticed" I scoff, cursing that weird stutter. "I bought that half a year ago and it's really soft".
"And comfortable" Lucas adds, taking it from my hands. His fingers touch mine for just a second as he does so, and I feel a strange sort of electricity shoot up my spine into my brain, causing me to shudder. Lucas has fortunately turned around again, and he's folding up the hoodie. Well, he's trying to. It ends up in a miserable heap.
"Fine, keep it" I say. His face lights up, and he jumps a little.
"Really?" he asks.
I don't hold back my smile anymore.
"See it as my going away present" I shrug, putting the folded up hoodie back in his suitcase. "What else do you want to take?"

We go off the list point by point, until I finally close the suitcase and take it off his bed. He smiles, looking very tired.
"Thanks Dean, you're the best" he says, and I smile at him.
"No problem" I say.
There's footsteps on the stairs, and Lucas's mom pops her head into the room.
"Oh!" she says, surprised by the closed suitcase. "You did it!"
"Yeah we did!" Lucas says, clapping his hands.
"Thank you Dean" Lucas's mom says, smiling at me. She looks incredibly tired.
"It's not an issue" I say.
"Do you think you could maybe come over tomorrow? Just to keep him busy. He's constantly in the way otherwise".
"I'm sitting right here!" Lucas protests, but his mom ignores him.
"Oh, that's fine" I say. "I'll need to say goodbye anyway".
"We want to say goodbye to you too, Dean" she smiles, and I smile back politely. She looks down at her watch.
"It's already dinner time!" she exclaims.
"Oh, I should go home" I murmur. She shakes her head.
"Eat with us, Dean. Lucas eats at your house so often, I'd be glad to have you over for once".
I frown thinking for a moment.
"My mom is coming home late today" I say. "So I guess I could".
She smiles.
"Great! I'm going to the store to get some pizza".

Dinner was alright, just a plain microwave pizza. Afterwards, we go back upstairs. I sigh as I sit down on Lucas's bed, next to him. He looks at me with a smile, and I look back at him.
"Want to watch Friends?" he asks.
"Sure" I say, putting the suitcase on the floor. He turns on the TV, and starts Netflix. We watch for a while, until I feel his head drop on my shoulder. I tense up for a second, trying to keep my lungs from exploding. I look at him, and smile weakly when I see he's asleep.

For a second, I rest my head on his, allowing the butterflies in my stomach to take over and spread throughout my body.

For a second, I allow myself to hope for a future where this could be normal and where he'd be awake, cuddling up to me and chatting about whatever he would have in his mind.

For a second, I accept the fact that this is what I want, and that I can't help but think about touching his hair or putting my arms around him.

And after that faithful second that may or may not have lasted for ten whole minutes, I pick my head up, and carefully shuffle away from Lucas. I lay his head down on his pillow, and pull the covers over him. Careful not to wake him up, I sit down on the edge of his bed, looking at him for a moment. Then, against all my better judgements, I reach my hand to his hair and gently run my fingers through it. It feels incredibly soft, and it tickles a little. I look at his face as I carefully stroke his head, and I see a little smile appear. I jerk my hand back, terrified for a moment he's awake. But he continues sleeping. I sigh, rubbing my eyes and standing up to leave. Tomorrow is going to be hard.

ШШШ