Within the Lines

10.

I wished my life was a movie. 

This would be the part where the montage took place. The protagonists in the movie would randomly know a 'perfect spot' or a 'restaurant they've been going to since they were twelve' and we'd go there. 

No, scratch that, in a movie we'd skip from the parking lot straight to bonding underneath the huge Hollywood sign with burgers and suddenly be best friends. Never mind that it was realistically always crawling with people, just like every other big cultural spot in large cities, and we'd end up fined. 

I didn't have a destination in mind, and Atticus wasn't making any suggestions. He'd asked where to, and I'd replied I didn't know any places here yet. 

With a grunt, he'd started driving anyway. 

"Uh," I spoke up as we left the school grounds. "We could get some burgers at one of the burgers drive-through on the road?" I suggested. 

Atticus side-eyed me. "That shit is trash. Don't eat trash while you're on the football team." 

"Okay...Geez." 

I stared out of the window, looking out for other options while we drove. I hardly ever paid attention to where we were going when driving to and from school, and I was seeing all these new roadsigns and landmarks. I had never had a particular interest for landscape painting, because the landscape around me had always been the same old. This was interesting, however. Maybe I could borrow the car sometime. Go to a spot crawling with people and try to sketch it. 

"Let's drive home and get some more sandwich—" Atticus started, but I cut him off.

"No, wait! Take that exit!" I called out, pointing at a sign up ahead. 

The sign said fresh food. The place was called 'Fresh Foods'. Atticus couldn't complain it was unhealthy this time. 

He still looked hesitant as he pulled up the parking lot and followed me inside the road restaurant. I asked if we could eat first just so we'd have a moment to talk.

A few minutes later we were sitting on a bench outside, each with a bio burger and looking incredibly stupid. We were just two guys of which one didn't even accept the presence of the other. There was no insta-bonding or any bonding. My brain was empty. I couldn't think of anything to ask Atticus and I wondered what the hell I was trying to do here. I had a feeling Atticus was wondering the same. 

Feeling ridiculous right now was the only thing we had in common. Aside from the student council, being gay, and football. Sort of. 

I was used to silence, having lived in Greensboro. The most noise we ever had there was the occasional car passing by. But now I found myself tapping my foot on the concrete and speaking up just so we wouldn't be sitting there quietly.  

"I'll be at the football trainin' next time." 

"Good," Atticus curtly replied. 

"Do you know who'll be our trainer? I know it's not Dad. He's too busy with the varsity team."

"No. But Paul pops in sometimes to look at other teams." 

I ran out of questions again. The silence returned, so I distracted myself by taking a bite. The top half of my burger was going cold fast, anyway. 

With a quick glance I noted Atticus wasn't eating. He'd hardly taken a bite of his burger yet, while, with his size, I was sure he could eat five quarter pounders in a row if he wanted to. 

"Not hungry? I can finish that off for you later," I commented, pointing at his burger. 

"Stomach's upset," he replied.