A week before…

On the other side of the school, the sound of sneakers squeaked against the polished court.

Charlie’s hair whipped across their face as the ball flew past their shoulder.

“Nice try, princess!” a voice jeered from the sidelines.

Laughter followed, thin, sharp, practiced cruelty.

Charlie stiffened, brushing their long bangs from their eyes. “At least I don’t smell like cheap deodorant and insecurity,” they muttered.

The laughter stopped.

The boy scowled, stepping forward. “What’d you just say, pretty boy?”

Before Charlie could answer, Alex jogged between them, his usual smirk unshaken.

“Hey, back off. The guy just missed a shot, not your dignity.”

He spun the basketball once in his hand, almost lazily.

“Or do you wanna play me next?”

Justin appeared beside him, shorter but sharper, arms crossed like a silent warning. “You don’t want that. Trust me.”

The group of boys hesitated, exchanged a few grumbles, and slunk off toward the bleachers.

Alex turned, flashing a grin. “You okay?”

Charlie forced a smile. “Yeah. I just hate when people think long hair means weakness.”

Justin tossed him the ball. “Then show them it doesn’t.”

Charlie dribbled once, twice and this time, the shot went clean through the net.

Alex whooped, slapping Justin’s back. “Told you! Charlie’s been the secret weapon!”

For a while, the laughter felt real. The gym echoed with the sound of sneakers and victory shouts.

But even laughter can’t drown everything.

From the corner of the court, Charlie noticed a boy passing by the window. Thin, dark hair, walking fast like he was late for something only he could see.

Sahara.

He looked distant. 

Fragile.

Charlie frowned. “Do you ever get the feeling someone’s carrying a whole storm in their chest?”

Alex followed their gaze and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “But maybe he just needs someone to wait it out with him.”

Back to the present..

Later that evening, Sahara sat by the riverbank where the wooden swings creaked under the twilight wind.

Snow joined him again, wordless. 

He carried two cans of warm milk tea.

“Bought it from there,” Snow passed him one, “I thought you’d like it in this weather.”

Sahara smiled faintly. “You don’t even know me like that.”

“Not yet,” Snow said, “But I’m sure I will soon.” He smiled.

And for a moment, one brief, precious moment, the world felt like it could still be kind.

Before the lies.

Before the breaking.

Before the frost crept back in.

The two of them sat side by side beneath a soft pink sky, sipping tea and saying nothing, while the river carried their reflections somewhere far away to a place where deserts and snow might actually meet.

Snow got up suddenly.

“Wanna bike with me?” He did that stupid grin again.

Sahara lay down, his eyes closed.

“Sahara.” The name rolled off smooth, too smooth-like he’d already become familiar with the type of person Sahara was.

Sahara opened his eyes, Snow’s face was directly on top of him.

First,

He despised it.

“Get off me.” Sahara groaned, pulling himself up as Snow pulled away.

He chuckled, blinking as like snowflakes lined his lashes, “Just checking if you were awake.”

Sahara sighed.

“Your scarf’s gone.”

Snow pointed to a bike with the red scarf on it.

“Yeah. It’s on my bike.” He got up, “Race you there,” He took off,

Sahara got up quickly, “Hey wait up!”

Snow got on the bike, one leg after the other, “Come on ya slowpoke! I thought you said you did manual labor?”

Sahara hopped onto the bike, “Oh shut it,” Snow took off immediately.

Startled, Sahara wrapped his arms under Snow’s waist without realizing it.

“Hey come on..slow down,” He shut his eyes, the crisp wind cutting it,

Snow rang the small bell in front, “All abroad the Snow express!”

The bike finally came to a stop.

They skidded to a stop near his street. 

Sahara opened his eyes, out of breath from screaming, “What’s wrong?”

“I have no clue where you live.”

Sahara began to chuckle.

“Turn the corner, you idiot.” He lifted his body to point, “There. That big house in the middle.”

Snow pedaled slower this time, as if afraid of reaching the end too soon.

“I got an idea.”

“Let’s be friends, huh Sahara?” He got off the bike,

Sahara lifted himself off the bike.

“Sure.”

He opened the gate to his house,

“Sure. I think I’d like that.”

Snow picked up the bike.

“Then have a great night. See you tomorrow.”

And just like a shooting star, Snow shot off into the evening horizon, which was already dark out.

Sahara unlocked the door.

When he got home, his mother was at the table, the faint scent of makeup powder in the air, “Where were you?”

He locked the door behind himself.

“At the park.”

“With who?”

Sahara put the keys back on the rack on the wall.

“With a friend,” The word felt strange rolling off his tongue,

His mother sighed.

“I don’t want to hang out with bad people again. You understand right, Sahara? I’m your mother, I’m worried about you.”

Sahara sat on the couch, mentally preparing himself.

“I’m telling the truth. I was with my friend from school.”

“But you don’t talk to anyone but Charlotte.” His mother’s tone clicked sharply.

“New kid. He transferred the other day.” He took his shoes off,

His mother responded, “Don’t hang out with that kid. White hair right? He probably has some sickness. His mother is the one who works in that bakery now.”

Sahara clenched his fist.

“He’s not from here.That’s why.”

And that night, when he turned off the light, the dark didn’t bite as hard as it used to.

He felt for the first time in years, safe. 

Safe in his own skin.

He didn’t even feel the need to take a pill.

That night, long after the sky turned black, Snow lay awake replaying the sound of Sahara’s laughter.

And somewhere in the quiet between heartbeats, he realized it was the first sound he’d heard in years that made him afraid to finish a task, because finishing meant walking away.