SUMMERTIME ↣ NICK ROBINSON

09.

chapter dedicated to haydensromero

"STRAWBERRY taste

cotton candy surface

how do you end a kiss

when you want it to last forever?"

Nick reread the haiku he had wrote on his phone before passing it to a blank page on his black drafts notebook, the blue tint still fresh as he bit his lip, holding in a smile.

Just after he kissed her, Nick had pulled away slowly and noticed how the car's windshield was covered in rainbow soap foam. He stared into her green eyes just like she, and the minutes at the automatic wash before coming out of the machine was a cycle: holding hands, smiling softly and tenderly at each other, words put into glances, casual kissing. It was a cycle that Nick wanted repeated over and over again.

After their afternoon together ended by Nick pulling on Nova's driveway, Nick drove fast as a rush of excitement and fulfillment made its way through his slim and long body. He didn't even bother when he slammed the door as he ran upstairs to his bedroom only so he could write down the words he was now reading.

It was all just like when he had been drugged at The Church not long ago. He could see the colors more brighter, smell everything nicer, hear even the tiniest bird chirp happily, touch and feel every atom caressing his hand and whenever he spoke, he felt like he even sounded louder, in a good way. Perhaps it is true, Nick thought, that when you're in love, everything is better.

And all Nick could do about it was sit at his desk until late afternoon, because he now had found his inspiration.

NICK woke up as he heard a sharp and loud ringing in his ear, only discovering it was his phone, which lighted up in the dark. He grabbed and looked at the bright screen, struggling to open his eyes. The caller ID read Wes.

"Hello?" Nick said as he placed the gadget between his hand and his ear.

"I hope you're seriously not sleeping, because we're coming to pick you up." said Wes on the other line.

Nick shot up and reached for his nightstand lamp, clumsily turning it on.

"What?" he said, noticing how raspy his voice sounded. He cleared his throat.

"We're coming for you in ten!" said Wes, and then hung up.

Nick stayed sitting on his bed, processing what Wes had said. He looked down to his phone's clock, which read 09:49 p.m. A yawn escaped his lips, and then he blinked several times before swinging the black covers off his body, and got up.

He went to his closet and opened it lazily before grabbing his favorite dark blue jeans and a simple t-shirt before taking the dirty clothes off his body.

He made his way to the mirror behind his door and looked at his reflection. His face was puffy, his eyes red and his hair messy. He grunted as he rubbed his eyes and tried to fix his hair by running his long, thin fingers through. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, trying to figure out what was on his cheek, to then realize it was a stain of dry spittle. He rubbed it roughly, and decided it was best to go to the bathroom and wash his face to, perhaps, vanish the signs of taking a heavy nap, so he did.

Just when he was drying his face with the towel, there was a car honking outside. He took his phone on the way out and went down the stairs quickly, only to notice his mother sitting at the dining table, reading through some papers.