while we're young - teen fiction

Memories

A/N: thank you guys for the positive feedback (: tryna provide some sorta refuge during all this weird stuff going on !! hope yall are doing well and please continue to enjoy. je t'aime (3 - lyss

Carson POV:

"Dude?"

I was instantly snapped back to reality when Brooks clapped his hands in front of my face, staring at me with a super confused look. It had been almost a week since I ran into Daniella. I'd literally spent hours in the lobby, sitting around and making it look like I was actually doing something to keep me busy. In all honesty, though- I wanted to see her again. The last time I saw her, she had gone upstairs. Did she live here? I wasn't sure what floor she had gone to. Would that have been weird to ask? I inwardly rolled my eyes. What was my deal? I was letting someone I literally met for 2 seconds distract me from everything lately.

God. Those were easily the best 2 seconds of my existence.

"Carson? Dude?" Brooks pushed my shoulder, once again bringing me back to the moment. 

"I don't know where you've been up there," he pondered, poking my head with his finger. "But the game's been over for 5 minutes, and you've been starin' at the TV with a bigass grin on your face. Something up?"

I rolled my shoulders to loosen up a little, tousling my hair and forcing a laugh. "Nah. I was just thinking about how badly the Cavs got beaten... Again," I added with a smirk, knowing that would get on Brooks's nerves. Brooks and I have been basically brothers ever since we met in the 7th grade, which felt like a thousand years ago. He was roasting some kid about his lack of basketball knowledge, and we later connected when we both joined the middle school basketball team. Not to brag or anything, but- we were probably the best team in the district. By far. Out of 8 middle schools? Yeah. No doubt.

Brooks punched my shoulder and heaved himself up from the couch. "It doesn't matter, bro. We'll still end up winning the Championship. Your stupid Warriors always crack under pressure," he added, grabbing some of the food garbage that had turned into a mini Mount Everest on my living room table. The place where I lived was... overwhelming. I didn't belong here, and yet I did at the same time. Delicately designed and seriously random pieces of art decorated my flat, modern and contemporary somehow managing to mix effortlessly. It was impeccable. Fine. Perfect. And it inundated me. It was also kinda lonely. The space was huge, and there was only me to fill it. Along with all my sumptuous furnishings; the styles and designs of my place were put together by Brooks's mom, who was a world-renowned interior designer. I wasn't unappreciative of her stylistic choices- most of what was filling and decorative my all-too-huge home was a collection of birthday and Christmas gifts I had received from her when I moved into this place almost 3 years ago. His mom was my mom, too- her name in my phone was "mama foster", which was their last name. I loved them like family. Which, as far as family goes anymore, they're basically all I got.

"No, man," I said, picking up more garbage and heading towards the kitchen, adjacent to the living room. "We'll come back. Honest."

Once we had cleaned up the table, I turned off the TV and put on one of my Spotify playlists I'd had on heavy rotation. The sound filled up the entire house, and it made me feel a burst of energy. I danced around the kitchen while cleaning up, washing dishes and straightening stuff out. Brooks went to one of the drawers of my kitchen island and took out a candle and a lighter, filling the kitchen with a vanilla sort of scent.