The Stars that Guide Us

2

A Lack of Color...

Vanilla melted down the side of Auggie's hand as they stood outside the shop, and let the sun bake them into human puddles of sweat. Chuck's incessant whining of being too cold, or too hot had them walking in the shop, and then out of the shop, resulting in them eventually getting kicked out. 'Make a decision! You're either in or out.' Shonda demanded and so they stood outside in the sun. They had tried standing in the doorway, but Stella pointed out how they would get in the way, and succeeded to her voice of reason.

Auggie leaned against the side of the small, slanted building and sighed, allowing the ice cream to melt further down his hand as he gazed at the blue sky. Lately he had been in inner turmoil. He didn't know how to quite decipher what he was feeling and he didn't want to. It would be safer for everyone, and himself if he ignored the confusing flutter of butterflies, and tingles crawling across his skin from contact.

"Can I have your ice cream?" Chuck asks hopefully, and apprehensively, watching the ice cream drip down his friends' hand curiously.

"I don't know. Can you?" Chuck reaches forward towards the ice cream, and licks his lips apprehensively, expecting Auggie to take it back at any moment,

"I say...yes." Chuck snatches up the melted treat, and Auggie groans in disgust as Chuck slurps it up messily.

"I wasn't planning on eating it anyway." Auggie says with a sigh, and turns his head towards his hand covered with ice cream. His lip curls at the stickiness,

"Why'd you get it then, nerd?" Chuck presses obnoxiously, and looks up momentarily towards Auggie; frowning at the despondent look on Auggie's face but shrugs it off—It couldn't be that bad...he'd tell them if it was—and continues eating the ice cream.

"'Cause I knew you'd want it, idiot." The reply is automatic, both Chuck and Auggie know this. They know how most of their conversations go; teasing, teasing, teasing, one of them breaks, and they tumble around for a while until Stella breaks them up or it gets resolved. Usually Auggie has those flutter feelings, and he has to fight a grin for him grinning would be very, very unusual during this time but because of the rhythm of talking to Chuck nothing seems so serious. Once Auggie figured out—slightly, if any, what the flutter came from—the urge to grin was much easier to fight. Chuck doesn't have to fight his grin, because the flutter in his stomach is from the sun—it has to be. He doesn't have any reason to hide his grin. It's a part of him, and he doesn't have to hide who he is.

He shouldn't have to hide who he is.

"You could have at least tried not to let it melt." Chuck insisted, still entirely focused on the ice cream, and could not see the roll of Auggie's eyes.

"And how do you suppose that, moron?"

"You could figure it out, wise guy." Auggie didn't have anything to say to that, and instead gestured to Stella that he was going to go inside, then held up his hand. She nodded once, and a muttered word of "Chicken," from Chuck's mouth followed him inside.

By the time he had finished washing his hands, Chuck had been finished with the ice cream, and talked animatedly to Stella about possibly pranking Tommy later and making plans to sleep over because Ruth was having a Girls night (or whatever) that entailed her not being home.

Auggie's insides shook with the possibility of being alone with Chuck at his house. It reminded him of the anticipation of danger, and rolled his stomach in a way that made nausea apparent. He quickly pushed it aside, and instead chose to focus on the present; Stella may be available anyways.

Her face crumpled in pain, and despair; her lips twisting in and her eyes shining apologetically. Auggie knew the words that were destined to come out before she could open her mouth, and the nausea tripled. She wasn't available. She has to take care of her dad. It was like the air got knocked out of him, and the sun bared into the very intimate parts of his soul; increasing the sweat in the middle of his palms as his heart raced.

"You can't come?" Auggie forced out at last, and wiped his palms on his legs. Stella's mouth dropped open in explanation but quickly closed it to cringe,

"No, I have to check on my dad. You know how it is." She said, and smiled apologetically. "But..." She compromised, "we can definitely hang out tomorrow, and Auggie is available, right?" She mentioned hopefully and looked toward Auggie; a strange glimmer of mischief in her eyes when she gazed at him.

"Uhm..." Auggie began, only to be interrupted by Chuck,

"Ah, come on Auggie. It'll be worth it to get back at that shit-bird Tommy and then we can do whatever for the rest of the night." Auggie didn't want to think too hard about the 'whatever' no matter how much his mind prompted him to.

"Uhm, uh..." He mumbled, looking between Stella's mischievous, encouraging gaze and Chuck's broad, excited smile nervously; wiping his hands on his jeans once more.

"Don't be a chicken, Auggie!" Chuck said, gazing at Auggie with a mischievous smile, and raised eyebrows,

"I'm not a chicken, sheesh! I'll go, I'll go! God..." Auggie reluctantly gave in, crouching down under Chucks arm thrown over his shoulder, and frowning at the stickiness hanging off Chucks finger-tips.

"We ride at noon!" He announced dramatically, dragging Auggie towards the bikes as Auggie checks his watch, and replies,

"Its noon now, idiot."

"Well, then...we ride now!"

Auggie hated the way he enjoyed the weight of Chuck's arm dragging him down to his height. He hated the way his heartbeat betrayed him and beat faster at the sun reflecting beautifully off Chucks curly hair.

He hated the fact that he was wrong.

And he hated that something so simple could be wrong in society.

He hated that he hated himself.

He hated it.