Dancing oranges and reds decorate the skyline as a brisk fall evening begins its descent. Skyscrapers loom in the distance. Away from the lower roofs and spaced buildings of the city’s outer edges. Birds are chirping in the small bunch of sycamores standing alongside the parking lot, and a squirrel sprints from tree to tree, its tail jumping against its back.

“Oi! The fuck was that, mate?”

My hair is still wet, bangs slicked over my forehead and drooping over my eyes, barely obscuring a heated blue gaze.

“I know today was a shit show and all, but you don’t gotta leg it right out of the shower ya bloody asshole,” he spits, slicking his hair out of his face. Water beads over his skin, reflecting the fading light in scintillating patterns. It gives the illusion that he’s glowing while his angry red cheeks make it seem as though he’s about to catch on fire. “I mean, look at you! Ya barely gave yourself time to dry off. Like a damn wet dog.”

I shake off the insults and run my hand through the wet strands of hair hanging over my eyes. “I’m sorry. I just-I need to….” I trail off, not really knowing what I’m trying to say. I’m still reeling from a few hours ago. Logan’s words smacking me across the face. His cold silence freezing the apartment whenever I left my room until I finally lured Henry out with me to the gym just to escape it all.

Henry’s eyes soften, understanding adrift in those gentle azure waves of color. “Sure, look. Don’t gotta explain yourself to me. I think-I’m pretty sure I get it.”

My expression must give away the relief I feel as his lips lift up ever-so-slightly. He gestures to the wooded area not far away.

“Maybe a hit in the woods? Give it a lash. See if it brings any calm to that storm in your eyes? Don’t quite like seeing you in bits this way.”

I think about it as we walk towards the looming sycamores. Fir trees bring a dark contrast with their deep green needles and near-black bark trunks to the near-white sheen of their colorful leafy companions.

“Sure,” I finally answer, pulling a water bottle from my bag. “Might as well waste an hour or two out here.”

Grin stretching across his face, Henry picks up his pace. An arrow headed straight towards the looming forest. I follow along at my own pace, my mind turning over every second of today in my head. It doesn’t feel like everything that went down did so in a matter of hours. More like a week-long marathon that I was ill-prepared to handle. Tensing my muscles. Rolling out lapping waves of nausea.

Part of me feels like I shouldn’t have interfered. Maybe that’s what Logan had wanted. But Mr. Haroldson had already informed me of his predicament. Barely holding onto a part-time job, no other place to go after the shed burned down. Living in a shed in the first place. How was I expected to just stand by and let him return to the streets after that?

Rooted crinkles form over my expression in the form of a scowl.

“No need to be a lookin’ like that,” Henry chirps from his seat on a smooth rock overlooking a bubbling stream. In between his fingers is a thick joint, already burning at one end. “Green’s about to make it all go away.”

I chuckle, dropping down on the small patch of dying grass beside the rock he sits on. Henry takes one more puff and hands the tightly packed stick down to me, blowing out a steady stream of smoke.

Silence overtakes the small clearing. The sharp smell of the smoke mixes with the fresher scents of running water and pine. Drizzled with a softer note of citrus and lilac from Henry’s shampoo that I used after the gym. It’s a comfortable quiet. Neither of us wanting to break the serenity.

Then, “Ya wanna talk about it?”

Mindlessly rolling the joint between my fingers, I pause. The effects are already working their way through my system. Calming my heart, relaxing rigid muscles. Clearing my mind of the crowded mess writhing not long ago. I take another hit and hand it off to Henry with a nod.

“He spent a really long time in orphanages,” I start, not entirely sure what all I plan on telling him. “I think he blames me for it. Maybe. But it’s-even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t just-I was too young to do anything about it.”

Without the joint in my hand, I grow restless. My fingers drift to the ground, tangling themselves in the dying grass. Henry listens on. Waiting for me to continue.

“I thought I could-I don’t know. Explain myself, I guess? Make sure he knows that I never-I never wanted that. I didn’t even know he was leaving in the first place.” My voice falters. “I gave up looking for him until I was out of high school. Figured I’d wait, you know? For an opportunity. Leave home and strike out on my own so that Mary wouldn’t have any control over what I did or how I lived my life.”

That sharp, familiar scent wafts downwards. I politely decline. I don’t think returning home blazed out of my god damn mind is a good idea right now.

“He knows that I stopped looking. Not sure how, but he does.” I bring my hands up, rubbing my face and leaving an earthy scent trailing wherever my fingers touch. “He resents me for it.”

Henry’s boisterous. Talks sometimes without taking a single breath. But, right now, he sits silently. Letting my words sink into him. Contemplating his own. He takes one last, long puff before stubbing it out.

“I think,” he starts, his voice vibrating through the still air, “that perhaps you need to spend time evaluating who he is now. What you know-that’s in the past. Long gone, far as you can tell. Ya need to start fresh, I think. Start back as friends. Might take some Ogeous handlin’, but I feel it’d be worth it. For your relationship moving forward.”

I snort, warmth racing to my cheeks. “You sound like there’s a relationship to be had.”

Henry rolls his eyes. “Stop being a gowl. I’m not stupid,” he says, his eyes narrowing down at me. He sighs, his gaze traveling back to the gurgling brook. “You say a lot. When you’re off your head. Turns out you’re a bloody fucking mess behind those steel walls of yours. Probably always have been, if I were to guess.”

I flinch, every one of Henry’s words striking true. No matter how hard I’ve tried, no matter how many masks I pull over the wounds, nothing can fix the pain thrashing beneath the surface. Henry can see it. I know Callie has, too. And dad…. he’s known for a longer time than both of them combined.

“All’s I’m saying is…. I’m worried about ya. There’s only so much muck you can hold inside before ya drown.”

Bubbles drift along the current, popping around each turn. None of them lasting more than a few seconds but all of them replaced as soon as they’re lost. Maybe that’s what I need. To start fresh. Let every ounce of negativity pop while urging some form of optimism to the surface. Patiently coax it into spawning numerous moments of light that outshine all the murky darkness plaguing my life. Logan’s life.

I take a deep breath. Clean air working its way through my lungs. Rejuvenating me. Talking to Henry has done far more good than I could have hoped for when he first lured me out to this secluded little brook for an unexpected woodland sesh. “Thanks, Henry. I…. I think I needed this.”

My gaze finds his, a smile brightening the crisp blue of his eyes. “Happy to oblige.” One corner of his lips quirks up into his mischievous crooked grin. “Course, if it weren’t for me pickin’ you up, you’d be six feet under.”

A chuckled escapes me, my cheeks pressed up enough to actually hurt. “Not how that saying works, Henry.”

“I think that sayings are up for interpretation,” he answers, standing to his feet and brushing off the leafy debris clinging to his pants.

I roll my eyes before following suit. “That’s not how the conversation went when I called you tree gnome for three weeks straight. You were all riled up about it.”

“Stall the ball there, mate, that’s because you took the saying literally, ya dope!” he retorts indignantly. “Just because a saying has tree in it doesn’t automatically mean an actual bloody tree!”

Leaves crunch beneath our feet, twigs snapping as we slowly make our way out of the trees.

“I get that. But it’s how the saying goes!” I argue. “Tell me that out of my tree doesn’t remind you of-of a fucking treehouse. Or-you know, something like that!”

“Well, you know-you get your purchase in a tree, and then you off and drain a pint. Suddenly you’re fallin’ out a tree! Tell me that doesn’t make sense!”

“It doesn’t!”

“Well-I mean-for fuck’s sake, it makes sense back home!”

I devolve into a chuckling mess, my ribs angry as we break the treeline. Henry is laughing just as hard, even if he tries to poorly hide it. Maybe it’s the weed letting such elation and lightheartedness consume me. Or maybe, all I really needed was someone to talk to. Someone willing to critique the way I’ve been approaching things. Whatever it is, I’m grateful for it.

Suddenly, I feel that something is hellaciously wrong. Henry’s abruptly stopped, and the air fizzles with tension that blindsides me. Ripping me from my fleeting reverie.

“Ignore the bastard. I’ll take care of it.”

“Henry, wha—” I trail off, not understanding what the hell he’s talking about. And then my eyes land on him.

Walking out of the gym, his hair is meticulously combed back. Gelled into place, probably with that sickly sweet apricot pomade that I never really cared for. Veins bulge under tanned skin that’s stretched tight over lean muscles. Dark eyes skim the parking lot before landing on us.

A tight white t-shirt and form-fitting skinny jeans leave nothing to the imagination. But I don’t have to imagine. I’ve already seen what lies beneath those thin layers.

“Aden! Oh, and Henry’s with you too!” he says brightly, striding over the pavement. I’d say his walk was one of confidence, but all you need to do is dig a little into the fucker’s personality to find that it’s arrogance.

“Aye. And we’re not here to chit-chat with the likes of you.” Henry bristles. His blue glare spiking with a searing flame, ready to leap out.

He rolls his dark eyes, focusing them on me instead. “Still letting this hothead make decisions for you? Really?”

My jaw clenches. “Leave. Before you make a scene.”

“You heard the lad, Kyle. Beat it.”

Kyle spreads his hands. “Listen, I just wanna talk.”

“I’ve a pain in my bollox, listenin’ to the likes of you.”

Confusion pinches Kyle’s brows. “Okay. Whatever the fuck that means.” His gaze flicks between the two of us.

“Leave,” I manage to rasp out. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Pressed lips lift into a smirk, devious poison-steeped pupils dilating. “We don’t have to talk, then. Just, come back to mine, and we can—”

“He said no. Any more of this, and there’ll be less of it, you miserable little pox.”

Kyle’s smirk dissipates. Falling to a hardened scowl. Anger is gathering around him like a storm, and—while I know we could take him without much trouble—I’m worried he’s about to start swinging. I think Henry does, too, his foot slipping back and his muscles tensing.

Instead, Kyle turns around and walks away with only an irritable glare tossed over his shoulder. I sigh with relief almost instantly while Henry waits until Kyle’s out of sight to do the same.

“That was some unnecessary shit,” Henry scoffs, leading me away from the red-brick building. Night is falling, coating everything in its velvety darkness. Out here on the edge, the light pollution is nearly nonexistent.

“Is what it is,” I reply, though my wavering voice sells out my faux calm composure.

Henry can hear it. He always does. But he doesn’t press the matter as we walk towards my apartment complex. Peaceful silence carefully peels away the layers of tension and distress laying over me. Dry leaves spring over the sidewalks, their scratching notes the only sound to be heard.

By the time we reach my unit, the weed’s lost its effect. My agitation fleeing with it. I find myself floating in a sea of calm waves, lapping against a blissful haze. Henry manages to ground me once more. I really have no idea where I’d be without him, despite our relatively new friendship.

“Gonna be alright?” Henry finally breaks the silence, watching me ascend the steps to my apartment from below.

I turn and smile at him, an overflowing fondness blooming in my chest. “Yeah, I-I think I will be. Thanks,” I say with a little wave, “for this evening. Don’t know how well off I would have been if you weren’t the persistent little pest that you are.”

“I’m not even going to oblige that statement with an answer, ya twat.” His smile is bright, reaching all the way up to his lightning eyes. “Well, g’night, lad. See you on the morrow.”

“Night, Henry!” I give one last wave before clearing the last few steps and leaving the impeding night behind.