Autumn Leaves

Dangerous Stupid Risks

"Come with me—into town."

I blink. Already I'm pulling my phone out of my pocket, spinning it around in my hands.

"Uh, sure. Let me jus—let me just tell Nick."

Ansel's eyes narrow, forehead scrunching up. He grabs at my hands, pushing my phone down.

"No. Why does he always have to come? I want it to be just us."

I bite at the corner of my lip.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it. It's just... Nick might—he won't be too happy."

"You think I give a shit?" There wasn't even a hint of amusement in his tone. It was kind of scary, actually. He sighs. "You always see him. He is a big kid. He will manage."

"No. Yeah. Yeah, you're a hundred per cent right." I blink again. "But have you tried telling Nick? It's freaking hard—"

"You need to promise me. This is serious." He cuts me off before I even utter a sound. "I'm making it serious."

I nod, then we're left in this silence, like the moment the wind ceases, a storm about to break.

"I have to tell him," I say. "And—wait. Let me finish. I'll make sure he doesn't tag along. He's stubborn, but so am I."

Ansel smiles the first smile I've seen from him in ages, honestly.

"We leave in an hour," he announces.

Shit. Nick is not gonna like this.

***

Ansel swings from the swingset, standing, rather than sitting. He was smiling all up until a minute ago. The smoothie did little to bolster his spirits. So far nothing had come of his dire warning. I'm thinking he really just wanted to hang out, far from Nick. But I also know he's a thoughtful dude. Keeps things bottled up. I get the sense he's waiting for the right moment, but that moment never comes, does it? He just has to get it out, and let the words, messy and painful roll on from there.

I ignore my phone vibrating against my leg. Nick checking up, no doubt. Relax, man. It's only been forty-five minutes. He was a tough sell, but when I put my foot down, he listened. And I had to promise to study with him tonight. I don't have much homework yet, so it's more just watching him study with those adorable glasses, and kissing. Lots of kissing.

There's the squeak and groan of the swing abruptly losing momentum, and Ansel leaps to his feet, landing awkwardly. He falls to the floor, clutching his ankle, hissing through his teeth. I drop to his side, asking if he's OK.

"Ah. Ja. Just... It stings a bit. I think it's verstaucht."

"You mean broken?"

He shakes his head.

"No. Not so bad. Er, how do you say... I'm not crying from it. It's not the worst."

"Like sprained?"

He points at me, grinning through his grimace. "Ja."

I help him to his feet, thinking I'm adding a new word to my multilingual vocabulary. Hah. Fat chance. Most of this stuff goes in one ear and right out the other. Spanish is sticking only because Nick insists on hammering it into my head. And I don't mind learning. It brings me closer to his culture, so I'm not so much of an outsider; but also have you heard the fricking language? It's sexy. Or maybe Nick just makes it sound that way. He makes a lot of things sound sexy, but I'm in love with the guy so there's that to consider.

I lead Ansel half-limping back to the swing set, but he shakes his head, and we go further still, over by the playground, and I sit him down on the metal platform, taking a seat beside him. Ansel pokes and stares down at his ankle for a while, and I stare off into the streets, up to a grey sky. No snow tonight.