Supernovas & Escapism

Chapter Twelve

      The best thing about being eternally devoted to the road? You always managed to find the best spots. These little treasures of places that people would overlook. Hell, even I would overlook them were I not trying to find somewhere to stop and think. As much as I put on a brave face for those around me, there was just something about crying in the middle of nowhere that made everything feel kind of okay.

     One of the better places I had found, was just a few miles outside of our sleepy suburban town. It was a small lot, sort of reminiscent to those fifties movies, or the opening scenes to a cult horror. But instead of being full to the brim with cars, looking across the majesty of nature, and being so high above home, this lot was all but deserted. There was still a road that led its way up here, but it was kind of obvious that it had been unkempt for the longest of times. Weeds and other plant-life had managed to grow out of the tarmac, and the road itself was cracked, withered down by its own age versus the elements. Every time I drove up, it seemed worse for wear than it had the previous time.

     But I knew this was a place of great importance. It was a place where everything could just suddenly be nothing. There's really no way to explain it. Just something about being above all the white noise just made it a lot easier to not give a shit.

     Honestly, when Garth asked me to drive aimlessly, I knew exactly where I was going. The guy was someone who obviously liked to be by himself. He was so used to the world turning its back on him that he just flat out accepted it and wore loneliness like a badge of honor. But really, there is no honor in being alone. Hearts are supposed to bleed for something, for someone. I refused to believe that he was any different; because if Garth wasn't normal, then where did that leave the people who sort of understood him?

     "Four," Garth stated, a reaffirmed smile settling onto his face. We'd carried on our game of twenty questions. Well, I had, and Garth had just shot out hasty replies to stupid questions. Favorite color? Magenta. Favorite artist? MC Escher (whoever the hell that was). Could he drive? Yes, but he simply refused to do so. "Do you even know where you're going right now?" The question was almost like an abrupt record scratch. I was convinced he knew what the answer to that was already. How long he had been aware that I had a destination in mind was still up for debate though.

    I pulled into the next side-road, a small winding path that lead to what I had deemed the 'Think Tank.' Trees surrounded us from all sides, some even overgrowing to brush against the side of my car, rustling softly as they did so. The road beneath us almost crackled under the sheer weight of two passengers instead of one.

     Glancing over to Garth, I managed to give a casual smile that said everything and nothing all at once. "I do."

     There was a slight growl that came from Garth. No matter how much he wanted to debate this, he wasn't really good at this game. Open questions blossomed from open minds. It was something I'd been told a lot in my childhood. If you were so closed off from the world, then the world was just going to close itself to you.

     Maybe it was my own little way of trying to get Garth out a little more. I understood that sometimes the comfortable thing in these cases was to just close yourself off, but it wasn't really all that healthy.

     As the trees opened up, the road came to a near dead end. It shifted from a narrow path up into this almost oblong shape. Faded lines pointed out where cars should have parked. Regardless of whether or not there was anyone here to see me, I always parked myself properly. Sometimes it proved difficult, such as on dark nights such as this, where the lines only became more faded.

     Garth looked around for a moment, trying to take everything in, before facing forward and taking in the view. It was such a picturesque kind of view, like one of those ones you'd see at the start of some weird indie movie. Below, in the distance somewhere, our town stood out with its lights fading. I didn't know what time it was, but judging from the lack of house lights, it must have been pretty late.

     "This is the 'Think Tank,'" I said, unbuckling my seatbelt, and turning off the ignition. Like that, the chilly night air seeped in, not that I paid it much mind. Slowly, I turned to face Garth. "You have the park, and I have this place."

     The boy with the chocolate brown hair remained silent for a moment, as if trying to digest what had just been put in front of him. His eyes felt like they were scrutinizing every corner of my space, and I wanted to take him back almost immediately. But I had invaded on Garth's space. This just felt like appropriate retribution.

     "It's nice."

     "Nice!?" I almost took the word like a sword to the chest, words cutting deep. "I take you to my most important place, and you think that it's nice."

     Garth shrugged, a hollow smile making its way onto his face. He looked around again, slowly unbuckling himself and leaning forward. In that moment, I could swear he looked infinitely less sad than he had been before.

     "Why is this place your most important place?"

     I shrugged. "Why is the park yours?"

     "I asked you first," he responded swiftly with a frown.

     There was another shrug. "I don't know, it just is. Sometimes when it's nice out, you can just sit on the hood and look at the sky."

     Garth pulled his knees closer to his chest, nodding in a strange sort of understanding. I don't think he really understood, but he played a good game and so pretended to play along. He did not have all the answers, regardless of what he wanted the world to believe.

     And that's when he sighed to himself. It was so quiet, but near impossible to not hear. His breathe made the car feel a little less cold for a moment or two, before making it bitterly more so.

     "My mom used to take me to that park when she was younger," he said softly. The way he held his tone just felt so jaded, but his expression was nothing but the most somber level of calm. "When I go there, I can remember my mom for who I wanted her to be, not for who she is right now. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I just wish I was back there again, when things were less complicated." I could tell he was fighting back the urge to cry. But this was not a place for that. This was a place of openness and acceptance of the things that we could not change.

     He leaned back against the seat, his hazel eyes growing darker with every agonizingly long second.

     "Why do you always look so sad Xavier?" his voice piqued after a few moments of this stony silence. "Why do your eyes betray you so much?"

     And there it was.; the dreaded million-dollar question.

     No turning back now.