The sky is navy blue and raging. It ripples like water, but the colour is artificial. Wrong. Like a child's drawing of a storm, but with the emotional weight of a hurricane. Even still, the Autumn festival is beautiful. String lights line the farmers' booths as well as the stage.

June stands at the dart game. She should be happy. After all, all of the Jones's hard work has paid off. Her family even let her have half an hour off to go meet up with friends. However, something isn't right in the clouds above her. She tries her best to ignore it, so much so that her vision becomes a haze. The sky above becomes deep waters, trying to drag her in.

Jamie shoots a dart into a balloon. The loud pop snaps June out of her daydream. She sees how white his cold knuckled are around the last dart, and she swallows. Over her shoulder, she glances at Wesley sitting on a barrel of hay. He pretends to be watching the strength-testing booth next to him, but every so often his eyes fly over to Jamie.

"You're sure you're good?" June asks Jamie.

The other boy's chin barely moves into a nod. He throws another dart, this time missing horrifically. He exhales, taking a step away. "I'm fine."

"Have you seen Erik?" she asks, because the best thing she can offer him is a distraction.

Jamie shoves his hands deep into his pockets. Shit.

"I bet he's at his house," Jamie doesn't even glance at June. His gaze catches Wesley's who quickly turns away. The nerve on that boy! He finally looks over at June. Her concern escapes him. He just needs time alone to think. "Something seemed off with him and his Dad earlier."

"I can check on him," June offers. She knows where he lives (don't ask her how, because she doesn't know). "I've got the car. My family didn't carpool here, because I thought the group would want to do stuff afterwards. I'll be back in, like, ten."

With only a longing glance, June dashes off. She reaches her blue car rather quickly and begins to speed down towards the centre of Hamilton.


~~~


From up here, Eden can see everything. He can see the small gourds and pumpkins sitting atop the tables of vendors, and can hear the laughter of children on the kiddie-coaster nearby. The soft guitar of the man on stage seems closer than it actually is. For the first time in a long time, Eden is in his element. Everything is soft, including the yellow light on Cara's face.

She is bright against the deep blue sky. Her eyes are warm, warmer than her skin is from the cold. At least, he thinks she is cold. Despite her fuzzy, light blue sweater, Cara is wringing her hands together. He wishes that he had brought mittens or bought cocoa before coming up.

"Thanks for this," Cara whispers.

Eden looks up from her hands to her eyes. Even though he has been trying to maintain a safe distance from her, their legs graze each other every few minutes. Accidentally. Accidentally on purpose. "For what?"

"For pretending that this is okay," Cara finally admits. Her stomach is twisting and turning in on itself. God, she feels like a little school girl again. Every day, the world seems bigger than she could have ever imagined. Every emotion new, every moment terrifying, and yet she wouldn't give it up for the world.

The wind hits him. Eden flaps up the collar of his brown jacket. He had forgotten how little it protects him from the cold it was since he hasn't worn it in years. It was a gift from his farmer grandparents, which like his truck, he has kept hidden. Without a lettermen's jacket though, he is free.

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