Suicide Buddies

Mickey Mouse Crackhouse & Other Wrong Turns

(tysm for reading :) hope this chapter's lighter than the last two😬 but ty and give the little star a tap.
Long chapter ahead. Like...really long. i got carried away.
and ik this one's kind of late but i had to do an inane amount of googling/youtubing for it so that's my excuse. I couldn't cover all of Disneyland—we'd be here for like 80,000 words—but i just did the ones i liked best so, if i missed anything, that's prbly why 😅)
(enjoy :)

It took another week for me to reconvene with the world.

Which was great timing on my mind's part, because it was right at the annual, end-of-the-year, senior field trip.

Most of my body had healed somewhat-well thanks to youth-sped regeneration and the ungodly amount of medicine I had to choke down. My eye was still slightly purple and my ribs couldn't take much pressure, but my cuts were closing and my knuckles had calmed down enough to allow me to do things without wincing at the pull.

In truth, the only reason I mustered up the courage in the first place was because my uncle had decided to return that Monday morning. We only spared each other a single glance before returning to the same ignoring schedule. He no longer wore his work clothes, or asked about the car. Silence was bliss.

I did take the rest of Haru's muffins to eat the morning of the trip. Maybe just to be petty and make sure he didn't get the chance to have any.

But coming back was a different beast in it and of itself. For one, make-up work. For another, Maia. For another, Haru.

"I don't see how this will help me," I said.

Mr. Merlo stared at me. "They're just trig functions."

"See, that. How's that supposed to help me?" I gestured at the packet he had given me. "You're great, Mr. Merlo, but this won't help me do my taxes."

He gave me a pitying grin. "Sorry, Angel, it's just the curriculum. At least show me you understand some of it, that's all I need. Senioritis comes at a price."

I sighed. I was tempted to tell him it wasn't senioritis and only a psycho uncle and my lack of knowledge of how to cope with my own emotions, but that seemed a little personal for nine AM precalculus. So I just nodded.

"Can I get it to you by next week then?" I sighed.

"Sure."

"Next...month?"

Mr. Merlo closed his eyes. "Sure."

I gave him a thumbs up. "You're great, sir."

"Sure, Angel."

The rest of my teachers were not as kind and even went as far as to give me a contempt look when extending my deadlines. I went with senioritis, mostly because I didn't have the heart to relay my life's trauma as an alibi.

And maybe a little senioritis.

I made it all the way to Mrs. Moon's class that next Tuesday morning before I greeted my fate.

Mrs. Moon looked up at my approach as she tried to quell the questioning surprise in her eyes.

"Angel," she said, and I saw Maia perk up in my peripheral. "Happy you're back."

Feeling's not mutual. "Yeah. I was just wondering about make-up work?"

"Just some reading and discussion questions. How are you?"

"Good. Thanks."

She handed me the appropriate worksheets. "Just have them to me by the Monday after next week."

I nodded gratefully.

Maia stared at me the whole way to my seat. I sat down, plopping my backpack next to me, and finally dared to meet her gaze.

We stared at each other for a good minute, neither speaking. Her hair was up in the highest ponytail I thought achievable in the human world, leaving a full display of her eyes to look at me with something like pity, pleas, anger, and relief.

"Hi," she said.

I nodded, and the bandage over my nose burned. "Hey."

She pursed her lips. "You're back."

I nodded.

"You could have called back."

"My phone was off."

"We were worried."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I told Rae I was fine this morning."

"I thought something happened to you."

"I'm okay."

"Angel."

"No, Maia."

And she just sighed.

We didn't speak for the rest of the period, until the tension became so goddamn suffocating, I gave in first with a, "What the actual fuck does antithesis mean?"

Maia blinked, then answered, "Hell if I know."

"Is it like an anti-thesis?"

"What's an anti-thesis?"

"Like, when you say ramen is better than pizza, but I say pizza is better than ramen, and that's the anti-thesis."

"But ramen is better than pizza." She gave a tiny laugh. "Honestly, I think it's something with sentence structure."

"Isn't that something like city tax?" I joked.

"Syntax, and no. Jesus, Angel, aren't you getting tutoring?"

"I was kidding."

We laughed. It chipped away the world's worth of weight on my shoulders, even if just by a little. I could appreciate it. Maia Yang had a lot of things in her life, but grudges were seldom one of them. Which worked well for me, because grudges took too much of my energy to uphold as it is.

She grabbed my arm and leaned her head against my shoulder. "Wanna get coffee tomorrow?"

With that, the world reset itself. I felt beetles crawl back underneath my skin, my muscle, and nestle deep into my bones.

I mustered up the most real smile I could. I praised God when it didn't split my stitches.

"Yeah," I said. "For sure."

___________________________

Haru looked prettiest in the sun, and even with my head half-decayed from nearly three weeks of hell and a maelstrom of homework weighing like bricks in my backpack, I could still appreciate that.

May in southern California brought its version of spring, which was just a cocktail of occasional clouds, ungodly humidity, and waves of summer prologue. I could say I loved May, as it was a nice transitional month into the end of school and beginning of break, where kids dragged their feet through the dregs of education, AP exam scores rang through conversation, seniors attended by occasion, juniors prepped their applications, sophomores prepped to prep their applications, and freshmen prided themselves on their first year in high school completed. I could also say I hated May, with heat made by Hades himself beginning to dawn, the waxing stress of inevitable adulthood coming at you like a freight train, the constant threat of summer job hours increase, and the realization that the middle of the year meant only another half to go before time once again escaped you.

But that all just amounted to a really melodramatic monologue I would rather not say. Or...repeat, that is.

However, ultimately, May might be better than I give it credit for, because hell if Haru didn't look worthwhile for coming back to.

By rare happenstance, he wasn't wearing a flannel, or jeans, but light shorts and a light shirt and a light long-sleeve that swallowed his arms. It made him blend into the coffee paint of the wall behind him and the white steps beneath his white shoes, like he'd become one with the desolate library steps. The pinkest hair glowed rosy under noon sun, and illuminated the pages nestled on his lap—which were half covered by a lunch container filled with a colorful array of some sort of pasta.

I stared at him longer than what was likely considered normal. I said, "You're not wearing a flannel."

Haru's head shot up. He stared at me, mid-chewing, like he was trying to figure out if I was really there or not.

Then he said, "You're not wearing a hoodie."

Even my affinity for hoodie was no match for the heat. I splayed my arms, bare to the world from my Sailor Moon T-shirt half-tucked into my jeans, patched up in the more gruesome places. I thought the twenty-second outfit was quite a sight, thank you. Rae might have been joking when he gifted the shirt to me, but I was definitely not.

"Thank you," I replied, and then, "I'm sorry."

Haru shook his head. "Don't be." There was that again. "Are you okay?" There was that again.

"Yeah," I lied. "You?"

Haru just nodded.

I set my bag down next to the stairs and settled across from him. Haru gave me that quizzical, inquiring look, gears shifting behind his eyes as he deciphered something out of me.

"I took another shower," I said, because I felt it was important to bring up.

"That's good," he said.

"What're you eating?"

"Pasta," he said, and offered some to me. "It's with a vodka sauce."

Liquor didn't sound like a bad idea.

"What've you been up to?" I asked, taking a bite. "Hell, this is good."

He said, "Nothing now. AP exams are over, so I have some breathing room." And, "Thanks. I made it yesterday."

I leaned back. "That's good."

He nodded.

Silence.

I cleared my throat, my stomach weak. "I'm...about last week, Haru, I'm really—"

"It's all right." Haru said. "Really."

"No, I..." I pursed my lips. "Thanks. For coming over." I sighed. "You didn't have to."

Haru gave a tiny grin. "It's okay."

It wasn't. But I didn't say that.

I pushed my hair back. It collapsed back onto my brows and I said, "I gotta cut this shit."

Haru shrugged. "I like it long."

"Maybe."

"I was thinking about going back to black," he said, pulling at his own hair.

I gaped. "You wouldn't."

"Dyed hair is high maintenance."

"Don't hurt me like that, Haru."

He scoffed. "Just hair."

"Keep it pink." I gestured at it. "Gives you character."

"Expensive character," he murmured.

I sat up and ruffled it. "Cute character."

He smiled. It looked like a dream.

Haru rifled through his bag for a few moments before withdrawing another container. He handed it to me.

I shook it but it made no sound. I raised a brow.

"It's sticky mochi," he said. "Try some."

I took it graciously. When Haru's finger brushed mine, I figured it was his version of getting the last word. So I took it, in my version of letting the conversation die out.

It's okay.

I popped the lid off, a pink mochi staring back at me. I chewed and dough latched onto every square inch of my mouth.

"You're a god," I said.

Haru laughed. "Thanks."

I paused. "Are you going on the field trip?"

"Disneyland? It's on the list." He swallowed a forkful of pasta. "I'm going."

My chest sagged with relief. "Good," I said. "We'll introduce you to the world of Walt Disney."

"I wouldn't have taken you for a Disney person."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm an amusement park person."

"Really?"

"No. Just a food person. They gotta have cheesecake somewhere."

He smiled. "We should find some."

"Aw, you're that excited?"

"Exams are over, it's the end of the year. Yes."

I grinned in spite of myself, my lip barely stinging. "Well, Disneyland or bust then." I slung my arm over his shoulders. "We're gonna paint that fairy town."

He just laughed, and for the first time in nearly a month, I felt my heart beat again.

____________________

If you've never been on a high school senior end-of-the-year field trip, let me give you a rundown:

It's chaos.

Summer vacation came a month early for seniors with college applications done, AP exams completed, driver licenses in their grubby hands, and new adulthood encasing most of the graduating class. It was great, as it meant most of our teachers were equally ready to be done with us as much as we were with them, but field trips sadly demanded a little more care.

"All right, listen up!" Mr. Flower shouted, fanny pack ready across his belt and a backpack fit for mountain camping strapped on his gangly frame. He pushed up his Coke bottle glasses and hoisted up his clipboard. "I know we're all very excited—"

"Yes, sir!" someone called and he held up a finger at them.

"—but we still need to be safe so we can all have a good time, yes?"

We nodded eagerly, as even the unholy hour of six forty AM wasn't enough to deter our joy to skip school and gorge ourselves on over-expensive sweets. 

He nodded back. "So, we sent you all emails about your according buses and teachers on that bus. If you did not get the email, then please listen for your English teacher and your bus because I'm going to read it out now, okay?"

We nodded again. He read it out. We snickered amongst ourselves.

"Everyone got that?" he called.

Bethany raised her hand. "Uh, Mr. Flower, what's my bus again?"

He sighed. "Bus B, Bethany. You're with me. I told you this."

"Where's Bus B?"

"The bus with the white B on it."

"Oh. Over there?"

"Yes, Bethany."

"Like, there?"

"Yes, Bethany."

"Like where—"

"Blue bus, dude," a guy snapped, and she shut up.

Mr. Flower nodded. "All right. Everyone ready to go then? Good. Now, remember: never go anywhere alone, always have a buddy, make sure you always know where the buses are, and remember to be back to those buses at 10 PM, no later, or we'll be leaving without you. I mean it! Jason, stop talking, this is important."

Jason kept talking.

Mrs. Moon clapped her hands. "And no asking teachers to buy things for you. We won't. Zina, you should've gone to the bathroom—just go. Quickly."

"How long does it take?" someone called.

"An hour or so," Mr. Flower replied.

"Dang, Mr. F, that's long," Howard said.

Luke raised his hand. "Hey, Miss Ghim said it'd be shorter than that. What gives, Miss Ghim?"

"I said relatively," she sighed.

Emma said, "Does anyone have enough to split a hundred?"

"Bougie."

"Shut up, Emily."

"Girls, please stop talking."

Nick snickered. "Yeah, girls."

"Are you assuming my gender?" Emily mocked.

"Is it like a full hour?" Bethany said. "Or like a—"

"Just get on your buses, please," Mr. Flower said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I glanced at Maia. "You heard Tulip."

She raised a brow. "You gotta stop calling him that. He's gonna hear you one day."

"We got less than a month left. What's he gonna do?"

Maia tightened her ponytail, which peeked out from her cap. She knew Disneyland like the back of her hand from all the times her old Girl Scout troop used to go, and therefore was complete with a Minnie Mouse backpack, shoes fit for a marathon, and enough water to satiate the Sahara.

"I heard they have a new churro flavor," she said. "We gotta try it."

"Don't they have a new one every two hours?"

"C'mon, Angel, have some heart. We're going to the happiest place on earth."

"We're going to the most expensive place on earth," I pointed out. "You know they charge three bucks for a bottle of water?"

"Joy comes at a price," she replied, passing by a line sighing at the girl searching inside. "Jesus, Bethany, you're Bus B. This is Bus D."

"Fuck me," she hissed, and shoved her way out.

Maia headed for Bus B and hopped up the steps before glancing over her shoulder at me. "Sad Haruki isn't with us?"

I frowned. "He isn't?"

"I don't know. I didn't see him. He in Mrs. Moon's or Mr. Lyon?"

"Don't know." I sighed. "Don't tell me I gotta sit with you."

She cackled. "I'm sitting with Jennie. Don't get too excited."

I shrugged. Good call on my earphones then.

We filed into the crowded vehicle and I took the empty seat right at the front across from the teachers and right behind Tulip.

I closed my eyes, inserting one of my earphones in. I'd only brought a water and my wallet with my ticket in it, since I didn't trust myself to keep track of a backpack. So I settled with my limbs splayed over the empty seats, fully prepared to sleep away the hour-long ride, and settled into the stiff leather with the faintest echo of chattering seniors around me.

Something tapped my arm, but I dismissed it as some kid shifting too hard right. When it came again I slid into the middle seat.

A muffled voice came into my senses and I sighed, sliding up against the window. Kids have no decency these days, I thought. I'm a traumatized, lonely child, can I have not a moment of peace?

Someone finally tapped me hard enough to trigger the still-healing bruises in my arm to flare and I hissed, tugging my earbud out.

"Can I help you?" I snapped.

"I told you not to put both of those in all the time."

Haru's face met my eyes, a mix of amusement and irritation painted over it. He tilted his head at me, and pink hair glowed in dawn's early light.

I gawked. "You're here?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

He raised a brow. "I'm in Mrs. Moon's AP lit."

I considered that. "How did I not know this?" I murmured.

Haru snorted, then gestured at the seat with my leg half-occupying it. "Uh, taken?"

I scrambled to change positions. "All yours."

He settled next to me and his open jean shirt flared around him, cascading over his black shorts. He reached into the pocket of his white tee and withdrew a small candy.

"Coffee candy," he explained.

I snagged it. "Thank God."

"That was for me."

"Well, you snooze, you lose."

He rolled his eyes and I popped the candy into my mouth. I gestured at our identical shorts.

"We match," I said. I gestured at my blue and white striped shirt in harmony with his colors. "See?"

He hummed. "Impressive."

"It's fate."

"It's not."

"It's kind of fate."

"It's coincidence."

"Coincidence is just fate in disguise."

Haru set his backpack down at his feet. 

"What you got?" I asked.

"Sunscreen, water, money, a jacket, and pepper spray."

I made a face. "Pepper spray?"

Haru shrugged. "You never know."

I hummed. "Fair." Then I leaned towards him with a wink. "But why take pepper spray when I can protect you?"

Haru took no bait. "Because you're not intimidating."

My jaw dropped. "I am, too!"

"Not really. You look like a high schooler."

"I am a high schooler."

"But you look like one."

"Not my fault I have a youthful glow."

"You look like you're daydreaming all the time."

I gaped. "You're cruel." I crossed my arms to lean back.

Mr. Flower peered at us from over the seat. "Good on you, Haruki. Stranger danger is no joke." He clapped his hands together to get the bus's attention. "Stranger danger is no joke! I know you're all seniors but please be careful!"

"Has he been eavesdropping on us this whole time?" I asked.

"It's Disneyland, Mr. Flower. Careful of what?" Nick called from behind. "Are the mice gonna get us?"

"Oh, my God, are we gonna get kidnapped?" Bethany exclaimed. "Mr. Flower, how could you let us—"

"No, Bethany." He sighed. "Never mind."

I snickered. Mr. Flower sent me a sharp look at it and I cleared my throat.

Haru leaned down to rustle through his backpack before he withdrew a small plastic container.

"And snacks," he said. "Baum rolls."

I draped my arm over his shoulders and pulled him into me, grabbing the container to pop it open and reveal four white cake rolls staring back.

I ruffled his hair. "You're wonderful."

Haru waved me away. He grabbed a roll.

"So," he began, "how fun is Disneyland? Really."

I beamed. "Fucking fun."

"Language, Angel," Mrs. Moon said from across us.

"Nowhere's safe, they hear all," I muttered.

Haru just laughed into my shoulder.

Let me describe Disneyland for you in three words.

Long. Fucking. Lines.

Which semi-registered considering it was a Friday, but damn, sometimes I forgot there were twenty three million people in Southern California to worry about.

Even at only eight in the morning, the sun was up and ready for its duty of burning our skin off, and nestled happily above us in its growing heat. We had distributed ourselves across the several lines, but even that hadn't saved us the stiff wait.

"I don't think we've moved for a thousand years," I said.

Haru frowned at me. "You said this would be fun."

"I said Disneyland would be fun," I corrected. "This is the gate entrance of Disneyland."

"I feel cheated."

"Use your deductive reasoning, Haru."

"You put sunscreen on, right?"

"I lost my only bottle of Banana Boat ten years ago."

Haru pushed a bottle into my hands. "Or you'll be red for days."

I frowned at it and popped open the cap. I smeared some on my fingers before rubbing it onto my cheek.

Haru choked watching me. "What are you doing?" he said.

"Uh, un-reddening myself, thank you."

"You don't put that much on."

"Who made you the Sunscreen Police?"

Haru closed the bottle with a sigh, stuffing it into his backpack. He reached up, fingers pressing into my skin.

I swallowed. "Forward of you," I said.

Haru shoved my hair back to smear it over my forehead. "Stop it."

"You stop."

"You stop."

"You stop."

"I'm not doing this."

"I win."

He pushed the sunscreen over the corner of my mouth and I grimaced.

"Nasty," I murmured.

Haru scoffed. He began to rub it under my eyes, but paused halfway, squinting at me.

I squinted back. "What?"

He pointed at my cheeks. "You have freckles."

And dammit, the sun had failed me yet again.

(I had, what I called, seasonal freckles. They were practically invisible during winter months where I barely saw the sun, but right when spring begins to dawn and summer comes to play, they come into the light like some vengeful ghost I'll never be rid of.

Since I'd been a recluse for most of it, I'd gotten away with avoiding enough sun to hide them. But only a week of searing heat was enough, apparently.)

My hand flew up to block my face instinctively. "What? No. No I don't."

"You do." Haru pointed at my cheeks, the space below my eye, the tip of my nose. "How did I never see them before?"

"Maybe you're not seeing them now. Maybe the heat's getting to you already and you're hallucinating."

Haru laughed. I aggressively rubbed in the last of the sunscreen and glared.

"Don't even," I said.

"You have—"

"Line's moving, go."

Haru grinned and moved up. I pointed at him.

"Don't even," I repeated.

He shrugged. "Okay."

"You're gonna even."

"Maybe."

"Haruki."

"Line's moving," he said.

We moved.

Disneyland was a world of artificial sugar, overpriced memories, pink-colored leeches, summer-exclusive heat, bedazzled secrets, and iron fists of domineering franchise power painted baby blue and creamy white.

It held just enough childhood joy to keep its blood running, but more than enough miserable parents' money to keep its heart bursting. Walking shoes littered every square inch, stepping next to brief moments of discarded popcorn, crinkled foil, and collapsed ice cream before they were all whisked away by underpaid sweepers or good-hearted citizens.

Mouse ears of more colors than I ever imagined could exist popped up like bubbles in a bath, littering the streets like spilled candy. Children's screams were harmonious to the continuous loop of old soundtracks or carnival fairy tunes. It was organized pandemonium wrapped in tickets, toys, sweetness, summer, discord, and dreams.

It was as fantastic as it was overrated, and as overrated as it was memorable.

But that was the fun of it. After all, you could hate or love Disneyland as much as you want, it never mattered. They were still rich and a leading cause of gender role protests and on-rise heart disease.

"Welcome to Disneyland, Haru," I said. "Isn't it grand? All you ever dreamed of? All you ever wanted?"

Haru blinked. "It smells like churros."

"We gotta get some," I said. I looked over my shoulder. "Maia! Get us a churro!"

"Get it yourself!"

"I'm broke!"

Maia cackled. She readjusted her cap, bouncing over to us.

"Haruki," she said, clasping his arm. "Ditch Angel. Let's get a churro."

"How good are the churros?" he asked at the same time I said, "Hey."

"Worthwhile," she replied smugly.

Haru hummed. "Bye."

I gaped. They laughed. 

"The things I've endured," I scowled.

Haru waved me away. "Dramatic," he murmured, and we steered towards the castle.

We'd been told not to split up, so majority of the students were already gone. The teachers looked too tired to care, and Mr. Flower had already gotten himself a Donald Duck hat he looked more proud to wear than what was considered normal.

Bethany displayed her churro to me. "It's delicious."

I gave her a thumbs up. "Sure, man."

"Angel, you're so crazy."

"Sure, man."

She flounced away. Maia snorted. "Don't flirt."

"If that's flirting, then we're all Cupid."

Haru pointed at the glittery pink and blue castle above the bridge. "That could kill us all if it collapses," he said.

I patted his shoulder. "I see the Disneyland cheer has already gotten to you."

Haru pointed behind us. "The architecture is great," he said. "Very storybook. Walt Disney was German, right?"

"Oh, no," I said. "Don't academic this trip for me, Haru. I want to learn nothing."

Mrs. Moon said, "He was."

I jolted, nearly stumbling forward onto the pavement.

She ignored me. "Disneyland uses a mix of many styles. Gives it a very specific feel to each corner. Smart, yes?"

Haru smiled. "Yes."

"Mrs. Moon," I gasped. "I almost died."

"Of course, Angel."

"Did no one see that?"

"No, Angel."

I shook my head. "The wrongness." I took Haru's hand. "Hey, you gotta try the Dole Whip here. Get your map out."

"Hey, wait—!"

We went.

New Orleans Square was reserved for the pirate junkies, aged fishermen, bog fanatics, easy Southern belles, sweeter Southern foodies, and swamp enthusiasts. It was where to go if you enjoyed the damp darkness or the mystery of muddy water. The rushing river, the tavern buildings, and the scent of turkey legs, corn dogs, and artificial sea.

"We have to hit Pirates of the Caribbean first," Maia said, ushering us towards it and past the ever-so-tempting tiki stand of the precious Dole Whip.  "It's tradition."

"Says who?" I gazed around. "This place looks like it's already halfway underwater. Like Florida."

Jennie peered around us, pink Minnie earrings swishing as she frowned. "I'm from Florida."

I turned to Haru and whispered, "That tracks."

Maia dug around in her backpack for her map. She splayed it in front of us. "All right. We'll hit here first, and then grab some popcorn for breakfast."

Haru frowned. "Shouldn't we eat something more substantial?"

I nodded. "He's right. Let's get a pickle."

"Only you like pickles."

"More for me."

"We'll get a pretzel."

"Two. I'm starving."

"You eat like you're gonna hibernate."

"Guess that's how I'm gaining all my muscle."

Haru hummed at that and I gasped, pointing. "Oh? Oh? You agree?"

"What? No, I didn't."

"You did."

"You're deluded."

"Wow, Haru, so forward of you. Gotta start wearing long sleeves around you or God knows how much you'll be distracted." I patted his head. "For your sake, I'll make the sacrifice."

Haru sputtered for nearly half a minute before whirling on his heel and moving up in the line.

Maia slid her gaze to me. "You dog."

"Oh, my God," Bethany said from all the way behind us. "I love dogs."

"Dogs are so cool," Nick said. "Unlike you, Henry."

"I still bite," Henry snapped.

"Oh, kinky."

"Oh, my God," Bethany repeated. "I love—"

"Shut up, Bethany."

Inside the caverns of the ride, lanterns lit up brick walls of a damp underground ambiance. The foreboding sight railed off to our right, where slow-going boats of our doom waited.

It was fantastic. No sarcasm.

I leaned on Haru's shoulder. "Isn't it great? Look, it's all dark, so you can't see anything, not even if there's a dead body or something."

"He's right," Maia said. Haru gave us both looks of horror, and Maia added, "So if he gets too annoying and you push him overboard, no one will know."

My jaw dropped. "He'd never. Right, Haru?"

Haru stared at the water thoughtfully. I elbowed ihm.

"Right, Haru?" I said.

"Huh?

Maia snickered and rolled her eyes, digging around in her bag for the ninth time for her hand sanitizer after Vinzo had given her a high five. It seemed all of the senior class had decided to accompany us for the first ride of the day. Ah, such joys are peer fellowship.

"The middle or back seats are always the best," she promised. "You get less wet."

Haru whipped his head to her. "Wet? Why would we get wet?"

"It's a water ride." Maia said like it was obvious. When Haru's blank face stared back her, she frowned. "Haruki, don't tell me you haven't been on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride."

"I've...never been on any ride," he admitted. "I've never been to Disneyland before."

Maia gasped, clutching at her heart. "No." She shook her head. "Haruki. You poor thing."

"We're not all emotionally child-like," I said to her.

"Takes one to know one." She patted Haru's arm. "Don't worry. This ride's pretty tame. As long as you're not scared of the dark."

Haru paled. "What."

I ruffled his hair. "C'mon. You're not scared of the dark, are you?"

Haru said nothing.

Maia stepped into the second to last row, and Haru and I got the back. The wooden gates threatened to open as the boat before us took off in an easy glide, light cheering accompanying it. The gold light fell in shards, and Haru in front of me bit his lip.

I glanced at Maia. "I'll get you a churro if you scream argh, matey at the fall."

She grinned. "Done. Jennie, do it with—not you, Bethany."

Haru said, "There's a fall?"

I hesitated. "Uh, barely one." I leaned on his back. "You've been on rollercoasters before, it's not that bad, I promise. It's one fall and the rest is pretty smooth sailing." I snorted. "Hah. Get it? Sailing? 'Cause pirates—"

"How bad of a fall?"

"Not that bad."

"It's horrible," Nick called, leaning over the gates behind Jennie. "It's like plummeting. Like, to your death."

Maia whacked his shoulder with her backpack and he yelped, stumbling back. Haru's face looked sallow in the light.

I frowned. "Hey, it's not that bad. Nick's just an ass."

The employee clapped her hands. "All right, folks, step on in! Please remember to keep your bags close to you so not to get them wet!"

The boat rocked before us. Haru hesitated.

I slid past him to go first and held out a hand. "Come on, it'll be fun. Promise."

Haru pursed his mouth to a thin line, but took my hand anyway. We settled in.

A gruff voice came onto the speakers. "Keep your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the boat. And watch your children, and no flash photos. Prepare to make sail!"

The seniors in front of us whooped loudly as the boat began to shift forward, honey lanterns slowly seeping into the midnight tunnels of the artificial bayou.

Haru clasped his backpack, shrinking in on himself as the light disappeared. The chitters of bugs and animals wafted through the air, and blue began to glow behind low trees. I leaned back, taking a deep breath as I stretched out for the relaxing trip.

"Nice, right?" I said. "Very calming. Makes me never want to actually go into a real bayou."

Haru said nothing. I glanced over. He watched the floating firefly lights from a distance with an unnatural amount of fear that should normally be paired with fireflies.

I frowned at him. "You okay?"

He nodded slow. "Uh, yeah."

"You look like you're gonna pass out."

"Aw, yeah, let's eat the fucking frogs!"  Vinzo screamed ahead of us.

Haru swallowed. "Uh, I'm fine."

The old banjo began to echo through the tunnel and Haru stared at its animatronic source like a madman.

I raised a brow. "It's a robot, dude."

"Uh—"

"Oh shit, oh shit, it's the drop!" Nick called.

Maia whooped in front of us. Haru's breath caught next to me, and I craned my head. A low, gravelly voice began a haunting monologue above us.

In the dim light, Haru's hands were clenched tight as iron against his body. He looked down.

Ah, shit, I thought. He really is scared of the dark. Nice call, Angel.

I hastily uprighted myself and scooted closer. Our legs touched, and Haru looked up at me.

"Shit, man, you weren't kidding,"  I murmured. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah...yeah. No, yeah."

Haru began to shrink further in on himself as the ride went. I chewed my lip, trying to scrounge for a solution.

"Hey, it's barely a drop," I assured. "And it gets lighter as you go, so don't worry. Promise. And look." I pointed ahead, where in the dim mint light, Nick and Vinzo were taking turns sensually wiggling at the blood red skeleton and bones above us as we creeped upwards. "If they can do it, I'm pretty sure we'll be fine."

"I'd totally bang that skeleton," Nick said.

"Dude, that's like, necrophibian or something," Vinzo said.

"It's necrophilia, you dumbass," Henry snapped.

"Henry likes dead people!" Jennie yelled and shrieked when he pushed her back.

"Yeah," I murmured. "We'll definitely be fine."

When Haru didn't answer, I scooted closer. My trial month as boyfriend had three weeks wasted in it, and it left me only one more to enjoy and prove it.

I'd be damned if Haru's Disneyland experience turned out to be anything less than fucking great.

I briefly thanked the dark and the backseat for their cover before lifting my arm around and encasing him, grabbing his hand with both of mine.

The boat creaked to a stop.

Haru turned into me.

Bethany said, "Davey Jones is kind of hot, don't you—"

The boat dropped.

Breathe.

Haru held his breath.

We went down down down down—

—and splashed into the rivers below.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"

The boat cheered at our landing, and periwinkle light glowed from rocky concave holes, the suddenly cheery music bouncing off every corner of the walls. I relaxed.

I nudged Haru. "You alive?"

He breathed, "Maybe."

I laughed. "See? You did it."

We drifted down a shallow slope of water, fog encasing us for a single blink before we slowed. Haru jumped.

I patted his hand. "We made it."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You can let go of my hand. Mostly because I think you'll break it."

Haru loosened his grip and I flexed my sore fingers. We drifted past a cove filled with gaudy affluence. A skeleton sat atop a queen's bed like he belonged there.

"Hey, that's a real skeleton," Maia said.

"What," Haru said, and I waved it away.

"She's kidding." I couldn't confirm that fact, considering Maia was the type where kidding had blurred lines, but we'd be positive here.

We drifted into a misty curtain.

"Dead men tell no tales," it echoed.

"Hey, that's us," I said, and Haru gawked. "I'm kidding."

Haru sighed. "Why the hell is this ride so terrifying?"

I paused. We began to close in on a battle reenactment, a black-sailed ship glowing red with fire and lantern light.

I blinked. "Did...you just curse?"

Haru glanced at me. "What?"

"Holy shit. Did you just say 'what the hell'?"

"I...yes."

I collapsed against him. "Breakthrough!" I shouted. "Oh mercy!"

"Yeah, baby!" Jennie whooped. 

"Yeah, get some, Young!" Jason cackled, and Jennie whacked him back into his seat.

Haru pushed me off. "You're acting like I've never cursed."

"Dude, not once since I've met you. This day lives in infamy."

Vinzo hooted ahead. "Jack Sparrow's my bitch."

"Vinzo, shut the fuck up," Maia snapped.

"I'll be your bitch," Jason promised him and Vinzo shoved him off.

The cannons puffed smoke out in grey clouds, and bursts of fiery water shot up in flaming geysers. Haru jerked when one went off right near us.

I smiled down at him pressed against me, brow raised. "Where's your pepper spray now?"

He said, "I'll push you overboard."

I laughed brightly. I tightened my grip around him as we began to approach the last of the ride's displays: a marketplace half-under raid, bustling with inferno, pirates, an abundance of overlapping dialogue, and a goat.

"These animatronics are terrifying," Haru muttered.

"Hey, but look, I think that one has a fiddle. That's up your alley."

"I don't play the fiddle."

"Aw, but it's just your size."

"You're horrible."

"You're wonderful."

"Stop saying that."

"Why, when it's true?"

"I still have the pepper spray."

I winked. "You'd never."

Haru smiled under the amber shadows, and didn't say anything to that.

_______________________

"There's a lot of shit to try in Disneyland, my good man, but beignets are definitely top five."

After Pirates, most of the seniors finally fully split and we were left mostly alone save for Katie and Jennie who had decided to trail us to the Mint Julep Bar beneath sunlight, blue awnings, green trims, Louisiana welcoming, and mellow meals. Maia and the two other girls were already busying themselves with mint juleps and a shared croissant, chattering over their plans.

"What's so good about them?" Haru asked.

"What's not good about them, is the real question. And the real answer is nothing." I wagged my finger at him. "It's a classic. Just don't breathe too hard on it, you'll end up looking like a crack addict."

I approached the window, ordering a three pack of them and a mint julep.

When we got them, we grabbed a table in the far corner. I presented one to him, warm and powdered and glistening gold.

"Try it," I said.

Haru took it carefully. Then, sank his teeth into it, and ripped the dough off.

He considered them. "That's...really good."

"Damn right." I bit into my own. "I think it's laced."

"Don't say that."

"I'm serious. This whole place is laced. I don't know with what, but with something. Maybe crack."

"It's a beignet."

"It's drugs." I took another bite, sugar melting on my tongue. "It's the Mickey Mouse Crackhouse."

Haru choked on his pastry, coughing as he laughed. He cleaned his whitened fingers on a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"You're nuts," he said, still laughing.

I presented my fingers, also coated in sugar. "And a druggie. Break me out of the Clubhouse jail, okay?"

Haru threw a napkin at me. "Clean your mouth."

"Do it for me."

"You're horrible." He pushed the napkin into my mouth. "Your freckles are darker."

"What?" I frowned. "Your sunscreen blows."

Haru threw his head back and laughed like May's oncoming summer.

He took a sip of the mint julep and hummed. "This is good." He pushed it at me. "Maybe it's laced."

"You're catching on." I clapped my hands. "All right. Where to next? We can grab breakfast on the way."

"This was breakfast."

"What are you, a bird? I mean real breakfast. Something hearty. Like a churro."

"You and your churro," he murmured, fishing out his map. "What's popular?"

"Depends. How bad are you with drops?"

"If it's in the light, not that bad."

I grinned wide, tearing off the Mickey ear of the last beignet. Haru shone under eight AM light, and smiled back.

I said, "How do you feel about railroads?"

Big Thunder Mountain Railroad was a cave mine reincarnated, and a gold rusher's paradise. Disneyland quite liked its mountains, and Big Thunder was no different, with sandy rocks piled atop each other and the echoing screams traveling through its winding tunnels. But Big Thunder wasn't known for sandstorms and actual thunder. Big Thunder was known for its inadvertent scoliosis and deceptive quirkiness.

The queue was western-chic and wood-infested. By now, the park's population had skyrocketed, and the wait times threatened to spill from minutes to hours.

Not that I cared, because I did get my churro.

Haru nibbled on his regular one while I indulged on my cocoa one. "These are great," he admitted.

"Hell yeah." I pointed at the railroad, the rumbling distant from our point in line. "It's just a very fast ride. Kind of jerky. I'll hold your hand again if you want."

"That was an anomaly."

"Great. I have no idea what that means."

"It means it probably won't happen again."

"Probably?"

Haru shook his head. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, leaning on him as I ate my churro. The time read 60 MIN WAIT.

"So," I said. "How are your competitions going?"

Haru shrugged. "They're okay. I've been able to win enough that I'm in the final five for the annual Clemonte Silver."

"What's the prize?"

"Bragging rights, scholarship money, trophy, and I think a medal. But mostly the first two matter."

I pushed his bangs over his eyes. "You genius," I said. "You'll kill it."

Haru laughed. "Thank you." He gestured at me, taking a bite of the churro. "How long has it been since you've been to Disneyland?"

I huffed. "Jesus," I murmured. "A while. Maybe twelve?"

"Did you like it?"

"Sure. I liked the food. I do remember there being a cheesecake around here."

"Did you come with Maia?"

I shook my head. "Ah, no."

When I didn't say more to that, Haru just nodded. My stomach threatened to twist, but with the bustle of western music, cheesy mine decor, and Haru next to me, I bulldozed past it.

"Let's hit Space Mountain after this," I said. "It'd be criminal not to hit it."

Haru said, "What's your favorite Disney movie?"

"Easy," I said. "Mulan."

"That makes sense."

"Dishonor on you—"

"Dishonor on your cow," he sighed and chuckled.

"You?" I asked.

"Tangled."

"That makes sense." I fluttered my lashes. "The floating lights."

We moved forward and Haru waved me away. "It's a good movie, leave me be."

"Oh? Wanna bet?"

"Not another one."

"Hey, yeah. My trial is up soon," I said. "How'd I do?" Forgetting the fact I ditched you for three weeks with no communication or acknowledgement while marinating in my own sad filth.

Haru hummed. "Not bad," he said. He took the last bite of his churro and tossed the wrapper in the trash. "I think."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. "Ah, right." I swallowed. "Sorry."

Haru frowned. "About what?"

"The past three weeks." I took the last bite of my own churro and chewed it for longer than what was normal. "I know I already rehashed it with you but it'll probably plague me, so I'm sorry. I was a jackass about it all." I squinted in the distance, like it would keep the guilt from bubbling out of my mouth in a flood. 

We moved up the creaking steps, and I watched the next flood of patrons take off in a bullet around the mountain in a dizzying loop. Wind was harsh through my hair, under my shirt, over my neck.

Then someone grabbed my hand, warm and alive and present.

Haru leaned against me, head tilted on my shoulder and fingers intertwined with mine. He watched the line with river stone eyes.

"It's okay, Angel," he said. "I'd never hold it against you."

"Why not?" I sighed. "You should."

"No," Haru said. "It wasn't your fault." He squeezed my hand.

How he understood without knowing was fully beyond me. I wanted to beg him to tell me how he could break so much of my resolve with barely a sentence, and how he knew so much from so little, and if this would be the last month or the first.

So much

There's always so much

How do you know so much?

I clasped his hand tight, and swallowed it all down.

"Well," I said. "What's your favorite Disney song then?"

Haru's gaze looked almost sad at that dodge, at that disappearance, but he didn't question it. He never questioned it even when he had a right to, and maybe that made us both weak.

We never spoke of those three weeks again thereafter.

Haru stumbled out of the train cart. "I," he gasped, "don't like that one."

I laughed, helping him out to clap him on the back. "There there," I assured. "You did pretty well. You didn't even scream."

"I passed out."

"And you live to tell the tale."

Haru didn't seem amused by that. He pulled his bag over his shoulders and glowered daggers into me.

"I don't trust you with my Disneyland experience anymore," he snapped.

"Ah, that's what you think. Wait till you get a giant pickle."

"I hate pickles."

"Well! Pickles hate you!" I scoffed. "Where's the culture?"

Haru held his hands up at me. "What good food is there here?"

"Since you're so keen on sugar," I said. "Ever gotten a Mickey bar? Pure icy crack, plus chocolate."

"Ice cream at nine thirty in the morning seems dangerous."

"It is." I tilted my head. "Or we can try the green milk."

"The what?"

I slung an arm over him and veered him down the roads of Frontierland, grinning wide under blazing sun.

"Green milk is the only good milk, Haru!" I announced.

"Aw yeah, Young!" Kelly called from afar, cotton candy stuck between his teeth as Liliana laughed at him. "Get that milk!"

I flipped him off and they cackled. Haru buried his face in his hands. I laughed like second nature.

"You're embarrassing," he said.

"I'm your favorite," I replied.

We had to get through Main Street to get to Space Mountain leading us around signature characters of amusement parks; corners filled with snacks, mascots, the occasional crying child, the occasional vlogging beauty, and the constant temptation of ice cream.

"We're not getting ice cream," Haru said. "Aren't we about to get on a ride?"

"Live on the edge, babe."

"Don't call me that."

"Schnookums?"

"Stop that."

"If we get ice cream, I'll stop."

"No."

"Honey bunches."

"No."

"Baby cakes?"

"What."

We got ice cream. I got mint chip, because I'm grown. Haru got mocha almond fudge, because he's gay.

"That has absolutely no correlation to each other," he snapped when I told him so. "And you're gay, too."

"Whoa, political correction, I'm bisexual." I bit a chunk of my waffle cone. "I'm versatile like that."

Haru sighed. I snorted.

"You got a cherry," Haru argued. "Isn't that gay?"

"Why? You gonna pop it?"

He closed his eyes as I laughed. Because I'm hilarious.

"I'll pop nothing," he snapped.

"True. 'Cause I technically popped yours."

"Stop that. Stop. No, you didn't."

"Oh? Who before me, then?"

"Okay, well—"

I ruffled his hair, pink bangs flying. "Let's go, cherry," I said, grinning. "How do you feel about Star Wars?"

Tomorrowland was a constitution of Disneyland that was simultaneously unnecessary and a colossal misnomer. No one really knew why it was called Tomorrowland, what with its singular ride dedicated to the unhumorous joke of the movie, and its predominant emphasis on Star Wars that acted as most of what drew people into its boundaries.

Tomorrowland was a jjamppong of all the attractions people either absolutely adored and were just wrongly placed, or the displaced ones that were never good enough for the new park but still wanted to belong. Bronze panels next to Buzz Lightyear across from pseudo-driving right by Yoda's roaming quarters made for quite the collage of a sector.

But I digress.

(Hyper) Space Mountain was located in the metropolitan region of Tomorrowland that bordered on otherworldly industrial with its geometric affinities and its cool-toned colors. The queue was likely one of the more grandiose ones with an ungodly amount of  space left for waiting and a structure better fit for a shopping mall than a rollercoaster.

The wait read 70 MIN and we were only twenty minutes in, but God knows it was probably a thousand.

"I'm gonna die of heat stroke," I muttered, fanning myself with my map.

It was nearly eleven by now, which left us with the harsh blunt of oncoming noon's sun. Even having worn my lightest shirt, the heat left me broiling without the kindness of indoors or measly sun shades.

A few other seniors had found their way to the ride as well, but their chatter had been melted into dilute drawls from the inferno. I wished I'd brought more water. Sometimes, I liked to imagine what it would be like if California wasn't an industrial powerhouse built deceptively on a literal desert.

"We'll never make it,"  I heaved, pushing my hair back as sweat beaded on my forehead. "This is where we fall, Haru."

For once, Haru didn't argue with my dramatics. "Maybe," he murmured. "Not impossible."

I slumped forward. "I'm not built for this."

"Haven't you lived here your whole life?"

"Not helping, Haru."

Haru dismissed me with a half-hearted huff. I leaned on his back and groaned.

"It's so fucking hot," I whined.

"Well, don't lean on me, you're gonna make me hot."

"Haru. Haru, I see the light."

"That's the sun."

"The heat's melted my brain. I can see colors."

"Everyone can see colors."

"Discrimination against the colorblind. And also, I meant 'taste'. See? Brain dead already."

"Get off me."

"But, Haru, maybe true love's kiss can—"

"Nope."

Haru was half alive, and I a quarter, when we finally got to the front.

"I see hope," I whispered. "We've been saved."

"You should've auditioned for drama," Haru murmured.

I clapped him on the shoulders, beaming. "Now, this is a real rollercoaster, Haru. It's got Luke and Vader and like, Dark Mall or something."

"Darth Maul?"

"Yeah, red guy. Looks like a well-barbecued tomato."

"Did you even watch Star Wars?"

"Of course, it'd be un-American not to. But I was nine, so my memory's spotty."

Haru shook his head. "I'm kind of disappointed by that," he said. "Yet you've watched every other known film in existence."

"Llamageddon was honestly not that bad if you down at least five shots before it—"

Haru laughed, pushing me away with that like proximity would drown it out. "Please don't compare Star Wars to that."

"Star Wars snobs," I murmured, shaking my head.

The gates opened and we took our seats right in the second to first row.  Purple lights pulsed around us in red-tinted warning and violet encouragement.

We pulled the bars over us and I eyed Haru as he gazed forward with the same deciphering eyes he always gave me. I flexed my fingers, leaning back.

"Ready?" I asked.

We drifted forward, pulsing lights leading us around a corner before crimson lit our vision upwards. I turned to Haru, and reached over.

He looked to me when I clasped his hand between us. I said, "It's dark."

Haru hesitated, then squeezed my hand. "How...dark?"

"Uh, you like stars, right?"

A tunnel of pure, ricocheting neon blue cascaded over us. Haru clenched my hand tighter as the neon blue turned to indigo, and as indigo turned to a dizzying, bright red.

A countdown began around us.

"Alex, did you go to the bathroom before this?" Amy asked in front of me.

"I ain't no bitch."

"Oh, my God, Alex," Bethany called from behind us. "It's Space Mountain."

"Hyperspace. Bethany. Like when you do drugs."

"Oh, my God, you do drugs?"

"Hey, it's Uranus."

"Kelly, shut up."

I heaved a heavy breath. "We're gonna get banned from this place."

The world went dark. Haru's hand was warm in mine, and more present in my mind than any useless teenage chatter. It was dark. It was dark and Haru was still there.

I said, "It's okay."

The ride bolted forward, and stars followed us at every turn.

Haru cleared his throat. "That...wasn't too bad."

"See?" I brushed myself off, dreading the heat we'd have to greet again as we began to file out. "Not that bad."

Haru gave a small smile. "I guess it's better when it's fast." He pushed his bangs back, forehead peeking out at me. "But put me on another dark ride, and I'll lose it."

I cackled. "Solemnly swear." I wrapped my arm over his shoulders and tugged him against me as we reentered the outside. "Check that map of yours, let's see if we can find a shorter wait time."

He rifled through his backpack before withdrawing the paper. "Which one usually takes less than an hour?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe a basic one." I scanned the attractions. "No dark, huh?"

Haru just gave me a look.

I held up my hands to placate him. "Okay, okay," I said. "Well, you can't drive yet, right?"

Haru shook his head, muttering to himself. "No," he grumbled.

I grinned. "Maybe you can get a chance to."

Haru raised a brow.

"How?" he asked.

"Okay, here are the basics. It's like driving, but you can't crash, except into other cars, but I'm pretty sure there's a bumper so you're fine. It's really simple, so all you gotta do is press to go, and steer."

Haru gaped at me, Mickey bar halfway to his mouth.

He said, "What."

I popped another piece of popcorn into my mouth and pointed down at the cars. "There's a car. Two people or less per. One pedal equals go. Steer car."

"But how is that—"

"You don't need a license or anything, it's like a kid's ride to make them feel like they can drive when they really should not."

"And you want me to drive?"

"Think of it like a preliminary test. The ones where you see how much you know firsthand?" I patted his head as I stuffed a handful of popcorn into my mouth. "All good?"

Haru shook his head. "No."

"Great. Come on."

Autopia was a lot like living together: it determined a lot of relationships' breaking points. I might have been young, but I'll never forget the looks of sheer, personal disappointment exchanged between pairs on those tiny cars.

"You can't do shit right, Jeremy," a girl snarled.

"Well, that's why you moved out," he snapped.

"Kiss. My—"

"Next!"

I went in first and ushered for Haru to get into the driver's seat. It was a kind little blue car, small and compact.

"All right," I said as we buckled up. "Ready?"

Haru held the steering wheel like it would fly off. "Uh..."

"Yes, you are!" I patted his back. "All right. Ten and two. Sit up straight. Keep your eyes on the road. Turn gradually. Press the gas slow."

He hesitantly pushed his foot against the pedal. We stuttered forward and I nodded.

"Good, good. Now turn."

He jerked right and I caught myself on the edge. We halted.

I coughed. "Okay, gradually."

"Sorry, sorry." He pushed the pedal and we went forward.

I cleared my throat. "Okay, turn."

He turned the wheel half an inch and we hit the corner. Haru hissed through his teeth at the impact.

"Here." I reached over, taking the wheel from the top. "Like this." I pressed the gas, shifting the wheel halfway before letting it return to its resting state.

Haru chewed his lip. I tilted my head at the wheel.

"We're not gonna fly off the track. Promise."

Haru took the wheel again, as focused as he always was.

I hummed. "Yeah, good."

We turned, albeit while bumping, but still enough that I didn't lurch.

I grinned. "See? You're a natural."

Haru shook his head. "Barely." He pressed the gas. "When did you learn to drive anyway?"

"Fifteen and a half," I said. "I got my license a little after sixteen."

"How'd you practice?"

"Maia let me practice with her car because I didn't have a one," I explained. "I bought mine when I was seventeen, but it was under my uncle's name until I turned eighteen."

"How'd you do that?"

"I guess I'm clever," I said with a wink. "Nah. I just got a good deal."

We made a rocky turn. Haru said, "My mom wants me to learn."

"I could teach you," I said.

Haru nearly stopped the car. "Really?"

"Why not? I'm a great driver. Minus the three tickets."

"What."

We steered right.

"I'm kidding," I said. "Okay, I'm not, but they were only parking tickets." I mimicked a position. "Hold the wheel looser. Right over left, you know?"

He followed my instruction. We made the only smooth turn that ride.

Haru glanced at me as we began to slow. "So, when do I start?"

________________

"There are a lot of great lunch places here," I said. "But few compare to this place."

Jolly Holiday Bakery Cafe was known for three things:

One, yellow.

Two, sweets.

Three, grilled cheese.

There were many good grilled cheeses that existed in the world, but all often paled in comparison to the greatness of the tomato soup-companioned, cheesy delight of the Jolly Holiday Combo.

Haru fished out three tens from his wallet. "It's that good?"

"Heaven," I said. "You getting the macaron?"

He grinned. "It'd be distasteful not to."

"Ah, yes, for your patisserie."

Haru laughed brightly. He ordered the meals and handed the cashier the bills.

"This place looks like a well-dressed gingerbread house," Haru said.

"Isn't it great?" I said. "Like the southern belles fell inside the farmer's manor."

"I have no idea what that means." We found a table beneath an umbrella and settled in the afternoon shade. "What's next after this?"

"Why? You having fun?"

Haru shrugged. "Maybe." He rested his head on his hand. "It's much better than I thought it'd be."

"Ah, like me?"

He snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Haru gazed at the passing patrons of Main Street with black eyes, the streets reflecting back at them. I watched him.

I said, "Hey."

He didn't look at me, but still replied, "Yes?"

"It's been almost a month, you know."

That swerved his attention to me, his gaze like twin headlights spotlighting me.

"It has," he admitted.

"So."

"So?"

"So."

He stared.

I cleared my throat. "The deal." I leaned back in my chair, the decorative metal digging into my shoulders. "My trial month is almost over, after all."

Haru took another moment to reconsider that. "And..."

"And subscription renewal is both fast-coming and pending." I tapped the table. "What's your final evaluation?"

Haru frowned. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and stare at me like the answer was written somewhere on my face. To me, it was. I hoped he'd see it.

I mimicked his position. He raised a brow, and I grinned.

"Aren't I great?" I said.

"I'll think about it," he replied.

"What? That's not an answer."

"I'll give you an answer later."

"What's later?"

"Later."

"You're killing me."

"You're dramatic."

"I am perishing by the moment."

"Stop saying that."

"Can't stop me."

"Freckles."

"You monster."

Haru smiled, sunshine yellow and brighter than any shade the Jolly Holiday could ever muster up. I gazed at his hand like if I stared long enough, it'd magically appear in mine.

The waitress behind me said, "Table ten?"

Haru's hands disappeared under the table, plates replacing it, and I tried not to miss them too badly.

"That's us," I said.

"You're right," Haru said through a mouthful of cheese. "This is amazing."

"Heavenly," I agreed and bit into mine to taste the liquid gold. "It's criminal we can't have these every day."

Haru laughed as he stirred his tomato soup. "Where to after this?"

"Anywhere you want." I pointed at the parchment bag containing the macaron, nestled inside like a treasure. "Are you gonna eat that?"

"We'll split it."

I said, "How about Splash Mountain?" I pointed at the sky. "God knows it's fucking hot enough."

"Splash Mountain?"

"It's a water ride, but not a water ride. You do get kind of wet at the end."

Haru made a face. "I don't know."

"Aw, come on," I devoured the last of the first half of the sandwich before stirring my own soup. "It's amazing. It's a little creepy, but not as creepy as It's A Small World."

"Okay, that one I've heard of. And I've heard it's horrible."

"You really wanna find a Mickey Mouse Crackhouse, that's the place to go."

"Someone's going to hear you wrong on that and you'll be in trouble."

"Oh? Who?"

Mrs. Moon said, "Hello, boys."

I jolted, nearly dropping my spoon of tomato soup in the process, as I whirled around. Mrs. Moon raised a brow at me and I cleared my throat.

"Ah, Mrs. Moon," I said with a wide smile. "You like grilled cheese, too?"

"No, Angel, I'm thirty six years old. I can't digest that." She gestured at her sad salad, sunglasses reflecting my face back at me. "How are you two?"

"Fantastic," I said. "Haru and I are going on Splash Mountain next. You can join us."

"Oh, no." Mrs. Moon looked horrified at that idea. She pulled her sunhat down over her. "I'd never do that."

"Mrs. Moon, aren't teachers supposed to encourage adventurous, creative endeavors that cultivate our cultural experiences and expand our minds to the wonders of both the local and global communities in our lives in efforts to hone our knowledge, stimulate our sympathies, and further implore us to remake the world in an ever-improving image of our ambitious progressions as both an individual and a valorous, new generation of novel ideas which are also planted within our hearts by your own profession's kind?"

She blinked at me. Haru said, "And yet, you still try to push open a 'pull' door on a daily basis."

I pointed at him. "It's weekly now."

Mrs. Moon shook her head with a heavy, long sigh.

"That was a run-on," she said pointedly. "But I see tutoring is doing you well."

"Ah, I was always gifted with speech," I said.

She stared. "And you just didn't try?"

I paused. "Uh, but I was never well-written. You see, I'm a simple man, Mrs. Moon."

Haru said, "Stop that, before you say something stupid."

"I thought you said I was smart!"

"By occasion."

"What."

Mrs. Moon said, "I'm going to get a cake."

"They have cake slices here?" I murmured.

"No, no," she said, tossing her salad into the trash. "Just a cake." Mrs. Moon dusted herself off, looking very tired. "For me."

We watched her go and I snickered to myself. Haru rolled his eyes, sipping a spoonful of tomato basil.

"I'll find a cheesecake here," I told him as I chowed down on my own meal. "Just watch."

Haru hid a grin. "Of course, Angel."

We split the macaron and ate it as we walked, the raspberry a sweet finish to the heavy savor of the meal. It was later noon by now—nearly three—and the heat was in full enough horror to finally make Haru complicit enough to let me drag him to the line of Splash Mountain.

Critter Country was quite possibly the most suspicious and also the most humble of all the sectors of Disneyland. Woodland-infested, children-inviting, wood-constructed, and filled with enough life-like cartoons to haunt you till you're thirty, it was exactly the type of place you either loved like a brother, or hated like a cousin.

I settled somewhere between the two. On one hand, Splash Mountain. On the other, everything else.

"That squirrel is eyeing someone," Haru said, because he was an educated man. "I don't like it."

"That's a chipmunk."

"Worse. They're faster."

"You sound like me."

"So you'd trust that chipmunk?"

"Obviously not, there's a pedophile in there."

A nearby woman glanced over her shoulder to give me a scathing look but I ignored it, because I was right. Haru pursed his lips to hold back his laugh.

"It's very rustic," he said, pointing around him at the wooden paneling and pillars. "Very country."

"Perceptive," I snorted and he elbowed me.

A sting shot back at me and I winced, holding my ribs and cursing. Haru startled and his face fell.

"Crap," he said. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

I held up a hand. "Nah, it just sting sometimes. I guess walking a lot doesn't help it." I pushed his hands back when he went to feel it. "Hold up, nurse, you can't grope me in the middle of a Disneyland ride."

"I was not—jeez, Angel." He shook his head. "Are you okay? If walking makes it worse, we should sit down after this—"

"It's Disneyland," I reminded. "Sitting gets you nowhere."

Haru frowned at me like he thought I'd forgotten something. "How're your stitches?" he asked, gesturing at my lip.

I shrugged. "Fine." Half lie.

The truth was that I had to spend some of the most laborious and stinging hour of my life just that previous Wednesday taking them out seeing as most of the wound had healed up. My giving of stitches might have been a C, but my taking out of stitches was most definitely a bright red F. I guess we all had our own scarlet letters.

"I am stuck with this though," I said, gesturing at the unpleasant scar across my brow. "So, now I can join a gang."

The woman from before gave me another dirty glare. Maybe we would get kicked out of here faster than I thought. We had another fifty minutes for it to happen, at least.

Haru closed his eyes. "Don't say that. We're in public."

"All right. I can join a drug cartel. Mickey Mouse crack—"

"Stop. Saying that."

"You know, Disneyland is supposed to make you more joyful."

Haru turned away from me as we moved forward and I pushed his bangs over his face.

Haru sputtered then reached up and poked my cheek indignantly.  "Freckles," he snapped. "Don't push it."

"Well, if anything, you having a fetish for my freckles could actually be taken in a very endearing sense—"

"I do not have a fetish for your freckles."

"You called them cute."

"You call my hair cute. Do you have a fetish for hair?"

I winked. "Maybe yours."

Haru closed his eyes and muttered something out in sharp Japanese before rushing forward like we weren't confined to a wood fence line of overheated bodies and a woman readying to push me over the fence.

I laughed after him.

"It's wet."

I frowned. "Yeah. I told you it's a bit of a water ride."

"You said 'a bit'." Haru pointed at the seats of the log. "That's not a bit."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. We're in the back, we'll be fine."

Haru sighed, but stepped into the log nonetheless. It was a single seat ride, which meant Haru was going to have to brave the adventure on his own.

"Godspeed," I said to him behind me.

"Stop that," he snapped.

We began to click forward.

The water rushed around us in river blades, and we puttered into an open wooden warehouse of empty barrels and country tunes.

"Having fun?" I called.

"There's so much water."

"All right, Haru."

We turned and rolled, water sloshing against the log, before drifting into a forebodingly cheery tunnel of lantern-lit animatronics moving to the music.

I pointed at one. "Chipmunk."

"Creepy," he muttered.

The lights began to fade to something cool and darker. I leaned on the edge, sweeping my gaze over the expanse of the animals. A fox began to sing at us.

"I'm uncomfortable," Haru said.

I cackled. "Don't be scared of the little fox, Haru."

We floated beneath twin vultures, eyeing us with mechanical hunger. A shadow began to speak as we ascended, and a bunny began to flail.

"This can't be for children," Haru whispered.

"We're on here."

"We're eighteen!"

"Children at heart."

"Maybe you are."

"Oh, sure."

The clicking echoed louder as we went, and the children up front started to scream as the log tilted. Haru tapped me.

"This isn't—"

"It's the drop!" I yelled, just to make the children scream louder. The woman from before glowered flaming daggers into me.

Haru yelled, "The what."

The sunlight shone at the top of the hill.

And we dropped.

Haru squeezed the water from his shirt, letting it run onto the hot pavement and evaporating nearly instantly. He pushed his damp locks back, and gave me a look that could have frozen hell.

"You said—"

"I say a lot of shit, to be honest." I cleared my throat. "Hey, but we got a nice refreshing shower."

"That water is so dirty!" he exclaimed. "And my stuff is in this backpack!"

"Well, I never told you to sit there!"

"Are you kidding?"

I patted his head. "It's all right. You're small, you'll dry fast." I shook out the slightly drenched map. "I say we get a nice, cool pickle."

"Or a towel," he muttered.

I laughed. "Or a towel."

It was closing in on four, which gave us time for three or four more rides and a last meal. Although Haru looked more in need of a nap.

"Come on," I said. "Where do we hit next?"

Haru was already heading left, waving me toward him. "I'm serious. My shirt is drenched, I need something else."

"Buying overpriced merchandise. I can get behind that."

We made our way down the streets before coming across a tiny shop with log racks, beehive lamps, enough trees to make the redwoods jealous, and a yellow bear flying mid-air above our heads.

"Hey," I said. "This place has food."

"We ate an hour ago."

"Don't judge me."

We searched around the shop, thankful to get out of the blazing heat, before I swerved around and tugged Haru to me.

"Look. A shirt." I pointed at a bright blue one, long-sleeved with Eeyore printed right over the front looking sad as ever, that seemed to only come in UNISEX XL.

Haru frowned. "There has to be a different one."

I pointed to another on display, the words I LOVE DISNEYLAND printed in rainbow over the front.

Haru grabbed the Eeyore shirt. "Not a word," he hissed.

I grabbed a Pooh plushie. "You want a friend, honey?"

"Stop that."

We purchased the shirt and Haru was a hypocrite because he eyed the bakery window enough in line to get a Tigger Tail.

"Oh?" I teased. "But I thought we just ate."

"Then you don't get any."

"All right, don't be hasty—"

He came out of the bathroom half-engulfed in the shirt, and tucked some excess into his shorts in some effort to not look like he was wearing pajamas.

I took a bite of the Tigger Tail and made a face. "That has more sugar than solid corn syrup."

Haru shrugged, taking a bite. He took out the nearly dried map. "Where to now?"

"Well, of all the iconic rides here, we have yet to go on one."

"You say Snow White and I'm leaving."

"Yes, but also—" I pointed directly at Fantasyland's main attraction. "—It's a Small World."

"Maia said that was creepy."

"It is. But in a cute way."

"No way, no." Haru crossed his arms, looking strangely childish. "You cannot make me."

I scoffed. "All right, then where do you wanna go? Before you throw your tantrum?"

Haru side eyed me at that before peering down at the map's contents.

"Fine," he said. "What's the Jungle Cruise like?"

I slung an arm over his shoulders with a pearlescent grin. "Good choice, my man." I steered us clear around, and the sun lit the concrete. "Good choice."

_______________________

To save you the trouble, I'll summarize.

One: Haru screamed on Jungle Cruise, and it was delightful. He also nearly pushed me overboard when I told him the hippos were real.

Two: Snow White's Scary Adventures did not go over well either, as Haru spent the entire time lecturing me about the political symbolism of the Snow White character arc, and I nearly fainted at the cardboard witch.

Three: I nearly re-bruised my ribs on Matterhorn, and definitely bruised my elbow, which led Haru to sitting us down for dinner at the Red Rose Tavern for an entire hour solely to make sure I wasn't in need of medical care.

"I'm fine," I said. "Barely a scratch."

"You said you could taste colors."

"Purple actually does taste grape-like."

Four: cotton candy. So much cotton candy. Haru even ate some. No cheesecake, though. I nearly threw myself into the river.

Haru didn't like that joke.

Five: at exactly nine forty-five PM, we finally got on It's A Small World.

It was a palace of a ride, white and gold and better fit for an abstract prince than a haunting amusement attraction. If you had to admit to anything for It's A Small World, you had to admit it looked quite beautiful, at least on the outside.

"No splashing, I'd hope," Haru said, eyeing the water reflecting back a dark sky, thick with evening humidity.

"None," I promised, and we slid in. We'd be pushing our curfew by taking the ride, but I figured at worst, there was always a nice long walk back home. 

The exhaustion in my bones began to seep into my mind and eyes. I yawned. The boat drifted. We floated past bright children, cardboard figures, blue lights glowing green on our skin.

"It's a world of laughter, a world of tears."

I turned to Haru. "You had fun?"

Haru, who was also slipping from consciousness, gave a light laugh. "Maybe," he said.

"It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears."

I leaned my arm on the edge. We sat in the back, the seats in front of us half filled, and the children in the front chattering the loudest. Conversation threatened to drown the songs, and dancing dolls began to spin atop a green pillar.

"There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware."

Haru leaned his head on my shoulder. My lips twitched into a small grin.

"Better than staying home studying?" I asked.

Haru laughed lightly. "Yes. Worlds better."

Flowers bloomed under dim light, and a row of figurines waved at us.

"It's a small world after all."

Haru said, "Thanks."

"Thanks?"

"For this." He chuckled. "Being my Disneyland guide."

I shrugged. "Thanks. For letting me drag you around."

"You're more fun than you let on."

"What? I always let on I'm a good time."

The song began to repeat, this time in a foreign language. Two children chased each other with wooden hands.

"I mean initially," Haru explained. He was warm on me, and even under the stiff heat, I didn't dare try to push him away. "When we first met."

"The phone call or the Corner?"

"Both." I opened my eyes to glance at him, but his eyes were on the dancing dolls.

"Harsh, Haru," I snorted.

"But true," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Good impressions aren't my thing."

Haru didn't speak to that, and I turned my attention to a ring of wooden children holding hands. One mechanically played a violin with a blank look and I pointed at it. 

"Hey," I said. "It's you."

Haru scoffed. "Accurate," he murmured.

We made a slow, easy turn, pink and bubblegum glinting across us in amorphous lights.

"I gotta ask," I said, turning to him. "Do you like violin even a little?"

Haru frowned at that. He sat up, eyes refocused forward. The song rolled onwards around us in the chaos of dancing children and haunting colored chaos.

"There is just one moon, and one golden sun."

"I like it," he said finally, arm still pressed to mine. "But I also don't, at the same time."

"Why'd you do it?"

"My mom."

"Do you like your mom?"

Haru furrowed his brow, like the question was confusing to him. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and reconsidered it.

"And a smile means friendship to everyone."

"Sometimes," he said. "Some days I do."

I craned my neck. "You hate violin."

"Though the mountains are wide, and the oceans divide."

Haru hummed. "Most times."

"Other times?"

"I understand it."

I frowned at that.

"It's a small world after all."

"Just because you don't like something doesn't mean you can't still understand it," Haru explained. He watched a black-haired child wave a flag. "Sometimes you have to do things you don't like to get somewhere you will like."

"What if you don't?"

Haru said, "Maybe you need to do more then."

"It's a world of laughter, a world of tears."

He turned to me. "I know you never answer me," he began, "but can I ask you one thing?"

As much dread that flooded me in that moment, more guilt was there to drown it.

I cleared my throat. "Sure."

"Why don't you draw anymore?"

"It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears."

I blinked in the headlights of that bare-faced question, raw and demanding rawness in return. Haru looked up at me with eyes that reflected my own, a tinted mirror of myself.

"There's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware."

I held his gaze. "Too scared."

"Of what?" he asked.

I said, "Of me."

"It's a small world after all."

The ride began to drift out of the tunnel, and neither of us spoke. We slowly made our way towards the end, and the world greeted us again.

What are you scared of?

What are you so afraid of?

We had to dash to the buses and managed to greet them at ten on the dot. Mrs. Moon gave us a suspicious look at it and we gasped out our apologies before rushing off into the bus of screaming high schoolers and ceaseless night life.

Disneyland compressed into a planet of another world away from us, and the dregs of the Fantasmic show glowed in the distance, muffled thunder of fireworks and rapt crowds confined behind the gates. They turned the world into a pool of violet and golden smoke.

I pressed against the window at the seats located at the very front, and Haru slid in next to me. The teachers were already there, looking half-asleep as Mr. Flower struggled to stay awake at the front, ushering in kids with an irritated glare.

Haru tucked himself against me, closing his eyes. When the last of the stragglers came in, Mr. Flower took a quick role call, and bid us all a goodnight.

"Mr. Flower, don't you wanna know how much fun we had?" Nick asked. "Or how Kelly tried to eat a spoon?"

"That only happened twice," Kelly hastily protested.

"Nick," Miss Ghim snapped next to Mrs. Moon. "Sit down."

"Uh, I think I left my charger in the bathroom," Bethany said.

"Everyone's here?" Mr. Flower sighed.

We all nodded.

"But, Mr. F," Bethany whined. "My charger—"

"Shut up, Bethany," the bus snapped.

She shut up.

And we drove.

I let myself zone out to the fading sound of fantastical music and the view of dream-like color shows as we left the parking lot, the sight shrinking little by little by little until there was nothing but a dot of it left against the night. I had tried to find Maia after that, but when I spotted her to the seats far adjacent to me, her and Jennie were long asleep, half-snoring.

Little by little, as the lull of the freeway brought us all back to the reality of exhaustion, shouts began to trickle into conversation, which eventually fumbled into mumbled speech or whispered giggles. The sky was as black as a midnight ocean, and a few stars began to swim to its surface.

Late nights were no stranger to me, so my eyelids only threatened to drop halfway at most even with the day's labor weighing like iron on my bones. Haru's words ricocheted in my mind in dull bullets, delta waves.

Why don't you draw anymore?

Just because you don't like something doesn't mean you can't still understand it.

Sometimes you have to do things you don't like to get somewhere you will like.

Why don't you draw anymore?

Scared of what?

Why don't you draw anymore?

My ribs burned with fire, with ice, with the night, with the moon.

Someone grabbed my hand, and jolted it all out of my senses.

I turned my head, seeing Haru awake with his fingers intertwined with mine, tight between us beneath the late hour's cover and slivers of silver blue moonlight. It reminded me of so much.

"It's later," he murmured quietly, so quietly I could barely hear.

I frowned. "Later?"

"When you asked me," he said. "At the Holiday place."

The deal?

"Ah," I said, coughing out a laugh. "You remember that."

"It's later."

"Later," I repeated. "So you have an answer."

Haru's hand was heat like summer's greeting. "Yes."

I held my breath. "Okay."

He leaned his cheek against my shoulder, black eyes filled with the moon. He looked real. He looked alive. He looked wonderful. I thought he looked wonderful.

"How did my trial month go?" I said. "Or...at least a part of it?"

Haru's grin bloomed. "Well."

"Don't leave me hanging."

"I like it," he said, staring down at our hands. "I like it. I like...this. I like you." Haru nodded, like he was affirming it for himself. "I like you." Between the syllables was his version of an answer.

I would take it any day.

I turned my head into his bed of pink hair, which smelled like summer wind and river water and Haru. I kissed his forehead, and felt his hand squeeze mine.

I could live like this.

I could live like this forever.

I want to live like this.

We rode the whole way back in silence, laced in moonlight and May, and like coming out of a faceless dream.

When Haru smiled goodbye at me that night, I saw a summer like my mother begin.

(this. chapter. is like. 12000+ words. and i'm sorry).
(but if u liked it and thought it wasn't too long/drawn out, then tap the tiny star and let me pretend i didn't overdo it ToT)
(tysm for reading, esp. if you've made it this far. props to you. may all your disney dreams come true too)