Closed When A Plan Comes Together

[Alfred Gorbach]

He was genuinely surprised the arm touching hers didn’t catch fire. It was burning, but she was… she was still quiet.
He messed it up. He could’ve stayed quiet, he could’ve kept his stupid mouth shut and moved on, but no, he had to hyperfixate on things and always put his five cents in where they didn’t belong. Second time he’d met her, and this was the second time he wished the Earth would open up and swallow him whole and just when he was about to say something else, she finally spoke.

Fine.
He was fine.
But like, fine in a fine way, or fine on the scale of you ruined it to you didn’t, he'd landed somewhere in the middle?
He was too preoccupied with this to even register the joke, or what it implied.

Hello darkness, my old friend…

Should he be surprised? No. He had many flaws, but being academically smart wasn't one of them. He took pride in it. And based on everything he'd done and said, this conclusion of hers was the only natural one.

Not that it meant anything. Totally didn't mean anything. It wasn't even like that. He didn’t even mean to say it. And what did he even know? He was meaner to Eris anyway.
He was stupid when it came to girls, that’s what he knew.

"Thanks."
…???
She said thanks to him, and he said thanks back. Alright, alright, gotta make sure she didn’t have a change of heart, apparently. Once in his lifetime, he had a chance to get a good friend. And obviously, that wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough for him.
NO.
He wasn't going to ruin this.

"Oh, he definitely had a crush on you. The more annoying we are, the more we like you. Being soft is weak. Gotta show you we’re not weak," and he smiled like a damn fool. Instead of being the tough, ignore-it, man-up, don’t-cry kind of man his dad was raising, he had checked all the boxes and been utterly… mushy. He hated it, but also loved that he could be that way with her and still feel safe. He felt smart enough to be a grown-up already, but this was probably the part that proved he still had a lot of growing up left to do. And he especially loved the fact that his overthinking brain had finally caught up and confirmed he hadn't made a complete idiot of himself. He'd just been soft with her. Nothing he said had slipped too far. Nothing pointed to anything more.

"So. The pact." He sat up, trying to shake it all off. "Think we should start writing it down? We’ve got three rules so far. It’s okay to not be okay, we gotta call each other out on stupidity, and we don’t owe each other anything. What else is really important to you?"​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura avoided literally biting her tongue as she figuratively bit it, not sure if fine was that great of a descriptor or especially helpful. But responding with 'sorry, I just got stuck on the fact you called me pretty' would potentially be weird or make her sound especially vain. And while yes, it did appeal to some vanity within her, it was how unexpected a compliment it was that threw her off.

She nodded in understanding at the comment about manliness. It was the type of thing she'd heard plenty of, well, more her favourite players speaking up about how that wasn't a good attitude and how showing emotion and talking about feelings was okay for men to do. Laura figured that musn't be that easy for boys to do, she had enough trouble talking about how she truly felt to her mum and she had the benefit of being a girl. Well, the fact that he was being nice must have meant he didn't have a crush on her, she reasoned. She wasn't sure how she'd handle that kind of thing if it came up.

Laura couldn't help but think it was nice to see him smile, though.

And that her arm felt colder when he sat back up. Though, that was probably literal.

"I brought some nice paper," Laura admitted, a little sheepish. She sat up and pulled the paper out of a plastic sleeve in her bag. The paper was a little crumpled but clean. Not nearly as crumpled as it could have been. "I thought, 'cause it felt important, it shouldn't just be on normal paper. I brought my good pens too. It doesn't have to be the glitter pen though. That might not look serious and official." She did have regular black and blue pens in her pencilcase, and was again glad that the paper was just a pale blue and not floral or anything like that.

"But I don't think we should have too many rules," she added, the thought bubbling up and coming out of her mouth before she could spend too long considering it. "I mean, yeah, we gotta have some, it's important, just not so many it's like, hard to just talk to each other," she acquiesced, scrunching up her face as she thought. "Um. I guess just...we try and be honest with each other. Not, like, we have to tell each other everything, 'cause that's not fair," she quickly justified, holding her hands up to try and quickly catch what she suspected might be an objection. "Just, you know, if I did something to hurt you, I'd want you to tell me instead of pretending nothing's wrong. You can pretend you don't know anything if you're planning a surprise party for me, of course," she joked. Laura wasn't sure she'd even like a surprise party, but she figured it was something that helped lighten the suggestion. "I don't really know how to put that as a clear rule. We don't have to write it down." She shrugged, making herself busy rummaging through her pencilcase. It was hard putting her own ideas forward, she realised.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

He was briefly worried she might be curious and ask why boys did that. Because how would he then explain himself out of that situation without incriminating himself? He couldn't do a whole speech about how there are different types of crushes. Sometimes you just think a girl looks cute, and then you say mean stuff to attract attention. Or be bold, or say dumb jokes, because there's no weight to it really. Zero stakes. If you lose, you lose, not that you care that much about the outcome, nor what they think of you.

And then there were crushes where you didn't want to say anything. And once you finally opened your mouth to say a couple of words, the Noah’s Flood amount of words came rushing out, and then you panicked and you had to overthink everything you said not just twice, but thrice and how you wanted to constantly backtrack on everything, and how what they thought of you suddenly meant the world, so now you cared about not making a fool of yourself.
Yeah, now how would he explain that?

But his smile didn't disappear. It even broadened at her mention of the nice paper and pens, and how he saw she even had a plastic sleeve not to ruin it. He wondered how such a small detail could say so much, and whether he should comment on it, but figured he'd already called enough things pretty around here without ever being asked.

"Yeah, I get what you mean." Did he though? Can you pretend you're not fine about them thinking you're fine, and how suddenly you don't even understand the meaning of the word fine? But he wouldn't be signing off on that anyway.

"Do you need me to turn on the flashlight on my phone or are we using your torch?" He assumed she would be doing the writing too. "Oh, and may I?" he added, nodding towards the cup. He wanted some of that tea too.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura rifled through her bag, realising that they would probably need a surface to rest the paper on to write properly. She had a book on hand, Alice's Adventures In Wonderland specifically. Her aunt had given it to her as a present. Laura remembered her aunt had smirked and commented about how she might find it especially relatable right now. Laura hadn't had the heart to say that wasn't helping. And she did like the story, really. It was just going to serve better as a rest for the paper.

"Oh, right, sorry," she said, handing over the cup as she flicked the torch back on. "Um. My writing isn't...great." She had been vaguely jealous of some of the girls in her class who had especially cute handwriting. Hers was a little too sharp and angular. She'd attempted to try and make it cuter by turning dots into hearts, or even stars, but it didn't really suit her at all. "But we should both write on it. Because, you know, it's important that it's from both of us." Laura nodded as though to punctuate it. Perhaps it was a bit redundant to say.

She decided she would try her very best to at least put a title on the page and allow Alfred to judge for himself, and painstakingly wrote the word 'Friendship'. She then realised she hadn't left enough space to make 'Pact' be the same size as the first word, squeezing it in. She then realised she'd got the i and e the wrong way around in 'friendship', and gasped in shame. "Ohhh my God, don't look," she groaned, face reddening at how she'd messed it up before they'd even started putting their rules in. It was a good thing there were extra pages from that invitation set. "It's so bad," she exclaimed, looking down and back up to Alfred...and letting out a couple of surprised giggles, that started to build into more. It was strange, sometimes, how the silliest and most inane things could set one off, but after all the emotion earlier, a laugh would do her the world of good. It was perhaps most surprising that she didn't feel so ashamed that she wanted to run and hide, but that she felt comfortable enough to invite him to laugh at her. With her, probably more the case. "Maaaaybe you should write the bit at the top."

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

Alfred took the cup, nodding silently in thanks as he took a sip. The tea was still warm, the steam curling up around his face. He exhaled through his nose, pleased. The air was cooler now, and the torchlight made their shadows stretch long across the blanket and the grass.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched her start writing. The moment she let out that groan, his smile widened.
"Ouff," he said with a theatrical wince. "Didn’t realize you were aiming for abstract art. Very bold." If he weren't so reserved, he probably would’ve laughed. Instead, he just kept smiling, cheeks on the verge of hurting.

"Alright, lemme see." He took the paper and the book, tilting them slightly to see if there was anything to salvage. "Ok, no, it’s absolutely ruined." He chuckled. "Can I take a new one?" He didn't look away from her as he asked. Figuring she would say yes, and the bag was already open anyway, he reached for another sheet.

He didn't say anything, but he noticed how she was starting to open up. Maybe his words had actually reached her earlier. All he knew was he absolutely treasured her giggles.

Dare he admit it, he was actually happy right now.

He started writing on the new page. Right in the center, his handwriting came out clean and square, as if copied from a textbook. No curves, no slants, no emotion. Every letter was the same height, same spacing, perfectly aligned on the line. Technically flawless, but empty of individuality.

"This is really nice paper. The pen too," he noted, and proceeded to write down the first rule.
​

Friendship Pact
1. No Debts

He held it out to pass everything back to her, but then he paused. "Tell me one honest thing you've never told anyone, and I'll sign the pact with your glitter pen,” he said, a bit more serious now. He knew it probably meant nothing to her, but for a boy, writing with glitter was a whole different kind of risk. The mockery would be eternal. At least in his old school anyway.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura would have winced, if she wasn't caught up with laughing. It wasn't even as though it was really that funny. Truthfully, she wasn't even sure if that's what she was laughing at anymore. She'd heard it said that sometimes, when things were grim, all you could really do was laugh at them. And they weren't that grim, not entirely. She wouldn't be alone, at least. She gestured to the bag with a nod, finally calming down enough to have some water from her drink bottle.

"Told you. I'm not good at art." It was probably the subject at school she was worst at, she dreaded art class every Tuesday after lunch for a reason. Drama, weirdly, she actually liked. Music, too, even if she wasn't exactly a prodigy. Perhaps it was something to be said for performing the works of others. "Yeah, I got it for party invitations, but...well, the party didn't happen. At least there's envelopes to keep it in, too." She shrugged, not as bothered by something now long in the rear view. 'It is what it is' seemed to be something of a mantra.

She held up a black pen to write, but retracted the nib with a slow tap on the base while regarding Alfred curiously. "You don't have to use the glitter," Laura quickly responded. Boys didn't tend to like glitter and 'girly' things. EJ often asked why she even had them, to which Laura would have to snappily remind him that she was, in fact, a girl, even if she played footy with the boys rather than talking about boys with the girls at lunch. "But okay."

Laura focused on writing down '2. It's okay to not be okay', thinking carefully with each word and thankfully having no further issues, even if the last okay was a little squished. Her messy writing was a stark contrast to how neat Alfred's was, but once again, it was what it was. "It's so hard to think of something on the spot. Um." She ducked her head slightly. "After I got the letter I put some of my treasures in a metal jewelery box and buried it out at my grandparents place. I made a map to find it so I can dig it up when I graduate. Maybe I'll let you come treasure hunting with me," she half-joked, although somehow she felt sure that if they were still friends, she'd want him there after all of this. "I pretended I lost some of the things like my school badges and mum got really mad about it. I also wrote a letter. It's kind of dumb, but," Laura shrugged. It had felt important when she'd done it, like she needed to be able to find those parts of herself again one day. That, and the school had unburied a time capsule recently so it had been on her mind.

"That, and I'm scared of being locked in small cramped spaces," she admitted. "I dunno if that's what you're wanting to know, unless you're planning on locking me in a cupboard," she added, half as a joke. "I got locked in the toilets after swimming one day at school. I kept yelling for help for like an hour, but it was the last class of the day and everyone had gone. The janitor found me, it's okay. Mum was furious. But I didn't tell anyone who did it or that I have to check the locks every time now and that I feel nervous until I'm out of there. I didn't want people to worry and I didn't want them to think they got to me." The words just kind of spilled out, and she looked down at her hands for a moment. "There. You get two, and you don't even have to use the pen." She pointed at point 1 on the list as though to punctuate it. No deals indeed. It wasn't like she had reason to hide any of this, though she didn't have reason to share it especially either. It just felt comfortable to actually be honest, as embarassing as parts of it could be.