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Chapter 1: Is This Your First Time Here?

  “...so? What does it taste like?”

  “...salty at first. Then sweet. Are you sure this is ice cream?”

  He chuckled—laughs even. My face fell. I should’ve known better than to trust him.

  “It’s the only thing they had,” he says, too casually.

  I squint at him, “...or it’s the only one you wanted to grab.”

  He puts my hand on his shoulder, in a reassuring way. Both of us leaned against the wooden fencing.

  I wield the light blue popsicle as if it’s some sort of weapon in my left hand. Randle looks back at me—a cocky grin.

  He adjusts his collar, wearing a polo shirt and khaki’s. Probably the only time I’ve seen him wear something nice, and formal. He had to, of course.

  We were at a country club. One of the most prestigious in the country. Naturally, I would’ve declined the invitation. But I had an even better idea.

  Why not spend it with the people I trust the most?

  “Lucien,” Randle calls out to me.

  I furrow my brow. But then he has that smug look on his face. The one where he knows he did something wrong and—

  Oh.

  “Dude.” I begin.

  “It’s Lu-syen. Not Loo-see-in.”

  He shrugs. “That’s what you let all of the people in the meeting call you.”

  I throw the popsicle in the trash. “Yeah, because I don’t have the time or patience to correct forty to fifty-year-old men in suits,” I say.

  “To them? I’m just a 17-year-old with big aspirations and goals. That’s about it.”

  He laughs dryly, not mocking. “You always discredit your efforts, Lucien. I don’t know anyone at our age who could do what you do. Generational athlete, sometimes model on the side—”

  I narrow my eyes, “Don’t forget who rung me up in the first place.”

  He raises both his hands. “Point being, it’s like whatever you do…you just aren’t satisfied yet.”

  Randle says. Maybe that’s the truth. Maybe there’s more out there for me.

  There’s just…one thing I’m waiting for. That’s all. But even if I told him, I don’t think he’d understand.

  He enters my view. “Think about it. You’re on magazines. Kids see you in the streets and want your autograph!”

  “This is something I thought was impossible.”

  I groan, looking away. “Speak for yourself.”

  “I can. I mean, I was there. For every step of the way, but I’m not on the same level you are honestly.”

  He nudges my shoulder.

  “Thanks for the Gold Medal too, by the way.”

  “That was four months ago.”

  “Yeah, and I’m still going to continue to ride the high. It’s not olympic quality—sure, but if we continue this, maybe we’ll both be selected!”

  There’s silence. I press my lips against each other.

  And then my own chuckle breaks it. He laughs along, but I don’t think he picked up on it.

  I should’ve told him the truth. But I was too nervous. I couldn’t do it.

  Felt too guilty.

  There has to be a better time to do it. Not now. Not when everyone is supposed to have a great time.

  He looks down at his wrist, reading the time from his imaginary watch.

  “Where’s Elise? You said she would be here.”

  I pull my phone out of my pocket. “That’s what she texted me. Are you really surprised she’s late? She never had a good sense of time.”

  He frowned, “Probably doing something.”

  There’s silence, and then he speaks again.

  “It’s just—wow. Never though this would happen.”

  “Dude, if you’re still talking about the regionals again I swear to—“

  “N-no, not that. Just. All of us really.” Randle says.

  “Never thought that we would be doing all of this.”

  He looks at me specifically.

  “Especially you.”

  I roll my eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Not the first to tell me this.”

  “I’m serious, Lucien. It’s like, ah man I can’t even put it into words—but, just know one thing.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, man. For everything.”

  Randle finished his popsicle, and was practically flipping the wooden stick between his fingers.

  “I grew up with you. Grew up with each other. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend than you.”

  Felt like my heart twisted into itself. I force a smile, but I think it came out weird, awkward.

  Randle couldn’t tell if it was forced, though. The guy could never pick up on cues like that.

  “Same here,” I say. He smiles back.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  My eyes fall down to his shoes as if something about them were magical now.

  I couldn’t look back up even if I wanted to. I wanted the tension to break away. Disappear for a moment.

  It’s worse trying to do something knowing what might be on the other side.

  The sound of the door sliding to the side caught both of our attention. And there she was—finally.

  Long blonde hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, steel-gray eyes sharp beneath a white visor. She wore a fitted white crop polo and a pleated tennis skirt that caught the light with every step, like she belonged to the sun-drenched elite.

  A black sweater draped over her shoulders in that casual, calculated way rich girls do—like it was just for show, but somehow completed the look.

  White ankle socks. Designer sneakers. A golf club resting on her shoulder like it was part of her body.

  Randle opened his mouth first, “Nice cosplay, Elise.”

  A snicker was created instantly, one that I didn’t realize was there. Elise’s face scrunched. Randle continued.

  “No…no. We waited 25 minutes…for Elise to pretend like she knows what she’s doing.”

  She got closer to us, wielding the golf club a bit too violently. Randle and I exchanged glances as we stepped away from her.

  “I’m gracing you all with my presence. It’s not often Lucien invites us to go somewhere.” She says. Then, her eyes narrow down to Randle.

  “You do realize that, right?”

  Randle only scoffed, throwing up his arms in a disarming manner.

  “Had I known, I would’ve put on a better costume since we are trick-or-treating now.”

  “Okay, guys. I get it. Calm down, please.” My voice rang out, both of them looked at me with not the best of looks.

  It was rare, for the three of us to be together, even rarer for me to go out of my way to invite them. Elise understood that, Randle? Not so much.

  To be fair, our lives have become so…busy. Way busier than any one of us would’ve thought. Days like these are what we cherish so much, even if one of us doesn’t want to say it.

  Because quite frankly, none of know when this might be the last we could be together like this.

  “I don’t know a thing about golf either, but we can all figure it out.” I tell the both of them. Randle smiles, and Elise nods.

  “Thank you, for inviting us,” She says. She softly smiles. It makes my heart jump twice.

  There’s silence, and then, with zero shame, she elbows Randle in the side.

  If I had a smile, it was probably gone. Randle grunted, and then spoke shortly after.

  “Th-thank you Lucien…” He thanks, but it felt like a struggle to get that one out.

  I force a smile again. I don’t deserve these friends. I really don’t. Came to that realization a long time ago.

  I would hate if anything happen between us.

  The sound of keys jingling in the air fills our ears, and then it’s from Elise’s hand, rotating it along her finger. She hands it to Randle.

  “Now, be useful and go grab the white car.”

  Randle stunned, and still recovering from that fatal blow, tilts his head in confusion, then looks at me.

  “White car…?” He asks.

  I…I’m stunned too. “Maybe she left something in the limo she came with?”

  Elise shakes her head.

  “N-no! The one—you know. Boxy. No windows…”

  She tries to describe it, but each description just sounds like something else. It was for some time until Randle’s face lit up.

  “Oh…she means the golf cart!” He chuckles shortly after. He walks away, still with his hand on his side.

  I watch him leave, and then Elise’s steel eyes track onto mine. I look away too quickly, turning around and leaning against the wooden railing.

  I hear her steps, and she comes to lean alongside with me.

  There’s silence. I like it. I needed it to be silence. I’m not afraid of anything else. From the corner of my eye, I could already feel her taking a few glances at me.

  Then, she speaks.

  “...He and I are no longer together.”

  It was subtle, didn’t understand who she was talking about. I guessed.

  “Your ex?”

  She nods.

  I formed a silent, “oh”. Makes sense as to why she was late this morning. Must’ve been one hectic thing to experience.

  “Sorry,” I try to give her my condolences, but it doesn’t even feel right coming from my mouth. She must’ve noticed.

  Elise didn’t believe in my word.

  She never did.

  That’s why it always feels like a challenge to speak to her, at all, really.

  I try to change the topic, steer us away from the dark atmosphere we might crash into. “Like the hat I’m wearing? Says, Golf.”

  She looks at it, even I forgot to mention it.

  “Thought it would…boost my skills a little bit.”

  She laughs dryly, then looks away.

  It’s clear it’s still on her mind.

  Looks like we might crash into it anyways.

  I groan, sounds like a problem.

  She crosses her arms. I wait for Randle, but he’s taking longer than usual. Longer than he should.

  “I…I wanted it to be different. Between him and I.” She begins. Her voice catches me off guard. I try my hardest not to look in her direction.

  Looking at the field before us, the many, many flags sprayed around and—

  “You can feel it, can’t you?” Her voice breaks through my thoughts easily.

  “Feel what?” I don’t look her way.

  She’s silent for a moment, and then speaks again.

  “The feeling. It’s there. Like…everything might change soon.”

  I shake my head, “Is that a new line you got from one of your scripts?”

  A chuckle leaves me, but it just feels timed and perfected. Elise looks my way, and for once, I can’t help but look at her directly this time.

  She’s not happy, or mad, or serious. Just…worried. Worried? Maybe paranoid? I don’t know. I can’t tell.

  “I’m really grateful—for the both of you. I don’t know how I would’ve done it through school otherwise. Growing up. Everything.” She says.

  I look away. Why does everyone feel like counting back the memories now all of a sudden.

  “I learned a lot. Especially from you, Lucien.”

  I slowly nod.

  There’s a beat of silence. Steady, calm. I assumed she was done talking. I part my lips to say something else, different. Move the topic over.

  But she speaks anyway.

  “I…just don’t know how to be with someone who’s only alive when he’s bleeding.”

  I press my lips against each other. My heart twists into itself, and skips a beat twice.

  I chuckle softly.

  But she doesn’t.

  So I stop.

  None of it made sense, but I’ve known Elise for a long time. Whatever it was, it became more apparent that whatever was on her mind…wasn’t just her ex.

  I wanted to speak. Don’t think I wanted to. Just sit there in the emotional rot between us. Unhealthy, yes.

  But it’s the only thing that’s better than what else she might be trying to push for.

  She was going to speak again, but the motor of the golf cart interrupted her. Randle pulled over to the side. There, most of the gear was visible.

  I exhale like I hadn’t done so in the past month.

  Elise’s entire demanor and posture changes. Turning to Randle, her voice boldens.

  “What took you so long?”

  Randle scratches his head, cleared his throat. ‘I…humbly apologize my princess. You see, there was a problem with the amount of golf carts and—”

  “Don’t fuck with me Randle!”

  Elise started to fling around the golf club as Randle barely dodged, laughing halfway through.

  I only watched as the two chased each other around the golf cart. Another sigh escaped me.

  So…it all came down to this?

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