was there a lifetime for us?

yellow doesnt really mean happiness

AL1'S POV

It was the middle of summer, me and Tucker were hanging out at the park where we would always spend almost every day. We were having a great time until Tucker told me that he would be going now since he needed to go home earlier for a family meeting.

I blinked, looking up at him from where I was sitting on the old wooden bench we had claimed as ours since the first week of June. The sun was filtering through the oak leaves, dappling his hair in gold, and for a second I thought maybe he was joking. We had only just gotten there an hour ago. He had brought his favorite lemonade and I had brought the sketchbook I had been too nervous to show anyone else.

"Already?" I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "We were going to walk down to the lake. You said you would help me catch fireflies later, remember? I got a whole jar ready."

Tucker shifted his weight, kicking a loose pebble across the grass. His shoulders hunched a little, the way they always did when he was worried. "I know, I know, I am so sorry. My dad said it is mandatory. Everyone has to be there right at five. No exceptions. I tried to ask if I could be late, but you know how it is."

I did know, actually. Everyone in town knew the Hendersons were devout. They went to church twice on Sundays, prayed before every meal, and held family devotions every single evening. Their rules were clear: no hanging out past dark on weekdays, no secular movies, no unnecessary distractions from what they called godly priorities. I had always tried to be respectful of it, even if I did not fully understand it.

"It is fine," I said, softening my tone so he would not feel worse. "Family comes first. I get it. We can go tomorrow, right? The fireflies are not going to go anywhere."

Tucker looked down at me, his expression tight with guilt. "I hope so. I will have to ask. My mom usually likes me home before sunset unless it is a church event, but I will ask. I promise." He reached out and tapped the cover of my sketchbook sitting beside me. "You going to save me a drawing? Or are you going to draw the whole park before I get back?"

I laughed, shoving his hand away gently. "I will save you one. If you come back with good news."

"I will do my best." He started walking backward toward the gate, then paused, glancing over his shoulder like he was half-expecting someone to be watching. "I will text you if I can, okay? But if I do not reply right away, you know why."

I nodded. His parents only let him use his phone for schoolwork and family messages, and they checked it regularly. "I know. Go on, before they send someone looking for you."

He gave me a quick, fleeting smile before turning and jogging off. The park felt quieter after he left, the golden light stretching long across the grass. I traced the edge of my sketchbook with my thumb. Yellow did not mean happiness. Sometimes it meant waiting, or wondering if you were ever going to be allowed enough space to just be.

TUCKER'S POV

I practically sprinted home, my chest tight with the familiar twist of guilt and anxiety. I hated leaving like that. I hated that my whole life felt like it had a list of rules longer than the Bible itself.

The front door was already open when I got there, and my dad was standing on the porch, arms folded, watching me approach. The clock on the wall inside showed five-oh-one.

"Late," he said, his voice calm but firm. That was worse than shouting. When he was calm, you knew you had really crossed a line.

"I know, Dad, I am sorry. Al1 and I just lost track of time."

"Time is a gift from God, Tucker. We are to use it wisely, not waste it on idle pleasures." He stepped aside so I could enter. "Wash up. Everyone is waiting. And leave your phone in your room, no distractions during devotion."