Still Just Friends

05 ♚ Everything & Nothing

[Wattpad is fucking up (what's new?). It won't title this part of the story and it automantcally set my genre to "random" and displacing me from #30 on the humor chart. Heavily annoyed. Very much so. Still. Enjoy this.]

Part Two: Distance & Other Measurements

Chapter Five, "Everything & Nothing"

True Colors – Cyndi Lauper

Ethan's POV

 

 

Idaho.

 It wasn't as comically large as New York seemed. The streets aren't lined with people on phones every sixty seconds and the buildings don't feel like gods standing amongst men. The sidewalk doesn't move from all the cars and from horns blaring every twenty-six seconds. I'm being superficial. New York was great.

But Idaho? Maaaan. It's Stone Cold Steve Austin of states. Just awesome. And good God how I've missed it. The smell of it. The mixing of colors everywhere. I also liked that I could scale the buildings. In case of situations. It's happened before. It wasn't as flashy as other places, but it felt much more homely. But again, I'm biased in almost every situation ever and I openly admit that.

Before I could suck in another breath of that Idaho air and possibly inhale the tar off of the streets, a car honked mid-breath.

"Ethan!" Mom yelled, waiving out of her window from the passenger side like a mad woman. She then fought with a bee that flew around her, swatting her hands.

I laughed. Then choked. Then laughed again and ran to the car like I did the first summer back at the house my first year of university, only I wasn't crying this time.

I got to the car, briefly fought with the bee as well, before yelping when it kind of overpowered me and I flew into the car locking the door behind me, panting.

"That was close," I breathed, right hand to chest, left to God.

"Bees man," Mom said, spinning around so she could see my face.

Sometimes I thought my mother wanted to bake me in foods. She looked at me like I was a cupcake (Official nickname by the way) and would pinch my cheeks like I was a ten year-old. I didn't even pretend to hate it. I loved it.

Thirty minutes into the drive Mom finally asked me the question what I was waiting to hear.

"So, did you get to talk with Spencer?" She was careful. Her voice meek and not looking at me directly.

"I did," I said.

Her shoulder hunched. "Oh." Three seconds. "So." Five seconds. "How did it go?"

It was fucking amazing mother. It was like eating pie flavored broccoli. Like dancing on the edge of a rainbow. Like eating a bowl of toxic goop and living. "It was okay."

"I see," Dad piped in. Eight seconds. A record. "Any gay boy horizontal time?"

"Father!" Ihissed. "Do I have to wash your mouth out with soap?"

"Not again. I still taste the Irish Spring," he laughed. "But seriously."

"I hoped you used protection," Mom said, ignoring the conversation that just happened literally a second ago.

If I could properly pronounce the word preposterous, I would use it. "You guys are being dicks, again," I mumbled, sinking into my seat, preparing to go into full-on pout mode.