Chapter 4
June 29, 2026 at 7:00 PM
The room was silent aside from the occasional sniffle. We were both a mess after all we’ve been through. A knock at the door and Mom and Dad peeked their heads in. Their mouths tried to tell us everything would be okay, but their eyes betrayed the idea. They let themselves in and sat down next to us. We looked at them, a snail trail of mucus and dried remnants on our faces whispered our secrets out to them.
“How are you both feeling?” Mom asked. I shrugged; Ava shook her head slowly. “We know you both probably want some time to your-selves, so we thought that maybe you should go on a walk together.”
Ava and I both gave small shrugs at this. A walk did sound nice. But, after what it did to Ava? And what we know about it now?
“Why don’t you guys go down to town and get some ice cream? I know that always helps me after a tough time,” Dad said.
I wasn’t hungry or in the mood for something sweet, but Ava looked up and slowly reached out a hand to take some money Dad pulled out of his wallet.
Guess we’re going out for ice cream.
“Thanks,” Ava said flatly.
“You know we’re here if you ever need to talk about it,” Mom said as she stood up and urged Dad to leave with her.
Our door clicked shut. I glanced over at Ava. She had pocketed the money but was still downcast.
“I’ll get changed,” I said.
I stood up and walked to our closet. I rummaged through my half as best I could; clothes scattered about haphazardly with some on hangers and others on two. I should probably fix this.
I eventually managed to pick some clothes off their hangers. I grabbed something tried and true: a t-shirt and black jeans. My canvas shoes and jacket would tie it all together.
Ava always had her outfits prepicked. Her organization was unreal. I reached out for one.
“No,” she said.
Alright.
I reached for another; the glitter of the skirt found its way to my hands. No response, but she shrugged. Guess a skirt and turtle neck was good enough. Maybe she felt like glitter would make her sparkle. It always did, I mean.
“I’ll be in the bathroom. You can change here.”
I headed out and got changed, taking a moment to look at myself in the mirror again. My eyes felt sore and bagged. Like I pulled an all-nighter.
I wasn’t that kind of person, though.
When I got back, Ava was at her desk with some headphones on. I recognized the beat to the song. It was that popstar. Ava danced with the rhythm of her music.
Aw.
It took me back to when we would blast music in the living room and dance after school. Mom and Dad had endless videos of us doing that and they always had to pull those out at holiday dinners. Time flew by some-times. I was happy she could find a light in the dark.
I pushed those thoughts aside and glanced at the clock: 2:30 PM, still early enough. I made my way towards Ava and flicked the side of her headphones; fast as the wind, she kicked off the ground and yanked them off, glaring at me.
“Don’t do that.”
“Payback for laughing at me.” I chuckled.
Ava’s eyes lost their edge and slowly drifted towards the floor. Shoot. Too far.
I playfully punched her shoulder. “Let’s get going.”
“Yeah.”
I’m sorry.
We made our way downstairs; the news played on the TV. There was a report on some thunderous booms but no rain to account for it. I thought that was impossible, but Ava told me flash storms are a thing.
Learn something new every day. Sometimes too much in half a day.
We didn’t stick around and headed outside. The wind was almost warm and light on my skin and tousled my hair. I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, the air tasted sweet with hints of pine intermingling with the smell of the earth. The woods were right in front of us, and the emotions from last night were starting to creep into me. The trees were tall and impos-ing, watching over the creatures that lived inside. We weren’t some of them.
I deflated.
Ava nudged me. “I know how you feel, but we can’t let that stop us from enjoying our afternoon.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”
She led.
Once we started walking, my mind felt clearer. I didn’t feel as terri-fied, but I wanted to be back before dark. We still took it slow. Neither of us really made conversation. We didn’t want any.
The dirt road led out of our concrete driveway and towards town; it was smoothed out over the years and felt firm. Perfect for walks to school. In the opposite direction led a road that went straight into the forest. Dad took that every morning to work. It wasn’t as inviting. Gravel patches lit-tered the potholes. Small mounds from where a truck’s tires dug too deep.
Had to focus on the light stuff.
We came across a small wooden bridge with a river that cut under-neath it. The water had a gentle stream and moss was free to run rampant. Our footsteps became hollow as we were guided up through the air before being reunited with the solid ground below.
I loved this bridge. It was perfect. Calming. Alone. But not in a bad way.
After some time, the dirt road was replaced with concrete tiles that led our eyes up to one of the city gates. I pulled out my phone and checked the time: 3:15. That was fast.
We wandered into town and I felt waves of calm wash over me that brought a radiating and comforting warmth as I took in the city ambience. Being surrounded by the bustling foot traffic, birds chirping, the occasional car coasting by.
We were alive.
We were lucky.
Ava took the city in. I could see the corner of her mouth curl up the smallest bit. I broke out into a full smile. Her eyes tracked a passing car, and she saw me. She turned away, her smile growing.
I was glad she could find happiness.
But we wasted no time and made our way to the ice cream parlor and entered. There were only a couple of people hanging out and it seemed a lot larger than usual. The sun shone brightly through the windows, which dotted the walls, and speckled off the plush glittering seats.
“Good afternoon! Err-evening?” the cashier greeted us, confused, but with a full toothy smile.
He liked being here. That made me happy to be here.
He asked us what we’d like. I hadn’t thought about it but saw a poster for their special of the week: mixed berry sundae. The chocolate drenched the mixed berries, dripping off the edge of the glass bowl and it felt like I could scoop it right off the poster.
I needed some chocolate-covered berries.
“I’ll have that,” I said, pointing at the board.
Ava looked up, but quickly lost interest. “I’ll have the strawberry and crème fit, please.”
“Good choices! The fit’s my personal favorite. The sundae’s a close second though,” he trailed off and seemed to be having some kind of men-tal debate with himself. Then he remembered he had a job to do. “Sorry, coming right up! Is that for here or to go?” He placed the order on some rack, and the preppers took care of the rest.
It wasn’t busy, but that was good.
Before we could answer, a voice came from the back of the parlor. A hand waving with it. “Wait, Evan, Ava?”
“Is that Hazel?” Ava asked.
Not “the twins.” Yes. It was.
I waved back and she beckoned us over. We went along with it.
She had her deep brown hair up in her signature high, but messy, ponytail and let her bangs swoop across her forehead. Her eyes smiled for her, but she put in the effort to make her body match her energy.
I always appreciated that about her.
She had her backpack with her and it was decorated with all kinds of robotics pins and stickers. That was Hazel, alright. She was one of my school friends, and we’ve hung out a couple of times at lunch; she always was mindful about what we talked about. Talking to her felt like someone was there to hear me and Ava out as separate people.
Ava insisted Hazel had a crush on me, but I didn’t see it. She was friendly with everyone. Even if I kind of wanted her to.
“Hey, where were y’all today?” She asked us, her eyes darted to my hand.
I hesitated to answer, putting my bandaged hand into my pocket. Ava answered for me. “We were caught in some accident, but we’re okay, don’t worry about us.”
I followed her lead to be casual with things. “Yeah, did we miss a ton today?”
Hazel narrowed her eyes and her mouth tightened ever so slightly. If there was a thing she did best, it was wear her heart on her sleeve. She then broke out into another smile, her happiness contagious, and I caught myself joining her. Ava flicked a hand at me.
Yeah, yeah.
Hazel slung her backpack up on her table and started unzipping it, sneaking in a hand before it was even half opened. “Oh, well, today was an A Day, so Evan didn’t miss much.”
I gently placed a hand on her bag to stop her from digging her notes out, and her eyes darted down at my hand. “Oh, okay. I’ll get the notes from you later?” I asked. More a statement.
She froze in place for a second before giving a breathy laugh. “Yeah, totally.”
Ava nudged me with her arm, her eyes never leaving Hazel, before breaking the awkward tension that began to form. “Do you know if I missed anything?”
Hazel scratched the side of her nose as she thought. “Mm. We started a mini project in animation. I can give you the rubric.”
Then they dove right into the details of the project. Hazel gave her a copy of the rubric. A few minutes later, our order was ready. We said our goodbyes before leaving to pick up our ice creams.
I looked at my sundae in awe; it was beyond words. I didn’t know how they did it, but I swore they reached into the poster and pulled it out. I picked it up and smiled at Ava. She’d already taken a bite out of hers and doubled my smile in return.
She was back. Thank God.
“C’mon, let’s go,” she exclaimed.
We waved at Hazel as we took our ice cream to go with Ava leading the way. I didn’t know where we were headed, but the streets were starting to quiet down. She led us to a stone bench in front of the central fountain.
I should’ve known. We loved this spot.
We took a seat. The stone was cool to the touch, but smooth and welcoming; the sun was radiating its beautiful orange glow, the street lamps turned on and lit up our spot, and the water sparkled in the lights, catching and fusing the orange from the sun with the yellowed lights of the lamps.
Couldn’t beat this.
We sat down and ate our ice creams in peace. The sweetness of the vanilla ice cream and hot fudge mixed so well with the different berries. And each one would go on to burst in an explosion of tangy sweetness. Why hadn’t they done this before?
“How’s your strawberry fit?” I asked.
I knew it was her favorite, but she sometimes complained if the ra-tio of strawberry ice cream and crème wasn’t “right.”
“Oh my God!” she seemed to be oozing excitement.
I almost forgot all my problems.
“How about yours?” she asked.
“It’s probably my new favorite—” before I finished my sentence, she dug out a bite and devoured it.
“That is good! But nothing compared to mine,” she said, licking away a bit of chocolate that stuck to the corner of her mouth.
I gave a lip trill, dismayed at the missing hunk of ice cream. I didn’t like strawberry ice cream much. Lucky her.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” she giggled, and I couldn’t help but laugh it off.
“Yeah, yeah. At least ask first next time.”
She jutted her head out and put on a goofy voice. “Fine.”
This got us both laughing that ended with sighs of contentment. I cast my eyes up towards the sky. The sun was still warm enough to fight off the chillier breeze. And clouds joined arm in arm as they lazed across the departing blues, escorting purple and orange hues that were more than hap-py to share the endless space above.
The city was calm. The only sounds I could hear were the quiet bus-tle of city life as trodden feet made their way home from school or work, distant horns from someone who was a little impatient at a red light, and water that tinkled against the complex and intricate design of the fountain.
The air was sweet and light. Almost as if the world itself was dream-ing. Just for us. We sat there in silence, and time felt as though it paused.
Too bad these moments weren’t forever.
And the sun was slowly making its way down.
