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"I'M SORRY THIS ISN'T TURNING OUT TO BE THE SUMMER you wanted," Milo says turning his head to face Anais, roof tiles pressing against his cheek.
Instead of taking Milo home, Anais has driven them back to her place and proposed that they stargaze. It's a little cloudy and Milo's spine is admittedly starting to hurt from lounging on the roof, but the night air is balmy and peach-scented and exactly what Milo needs to clear his head.
"Apology declined," Anais counters.
Her attention is drawn heavenward, her eyes focused studiously on the just-visible smattering of stars above them.
"Your emotional well-being is a higher priority than any bucket list."
"Yes but–" Milo trails off, unable to think of a reasonable argument.
Anais turns to face him, brows drawn in concern. "We have our whole lives ahead of us, Mi. It's okay if things are a little shitty right now because it's not gonna be like that forever, you know?"
"Yeah," Milo says. "You're right. You would make a great a therapist, you know?"
Anais' expression shifts in a way that he isn't entirely familiar with, and she goes quiet for a moment. After a beat she asks, "Have you... Have you thought about seeing a real therapist at all, Milo?"
The turn in conversation leaves Milo feeling suddenly untethered.
"My mom is a psychologist..."
This is a poor deflection and he knows it, but he would really like to lay here and pretend his problems don't exist for a little while longer. The sigh that preludes Anais's following words suggests that she's aware that Milo is thinking this.
"Your mom can't give you impartial advice."
Rather than meeting her eyes, Milo busies himself with picking at a loose thread at the sleeve of his unraveling sweater. "I know," he says. "It's just... therapy's expensive, and intimidating. Mom offered to pay for it a while ago but I know that it's not something we'd be able to invest in for very long."
Anais tugs at Milo's sleeve, stealing his hand away to hold it in hers. Milo gives in without protest and lets their fingers intertwine.
"There are alternatives, too. Like support groups and things, but I understand that it's difficult. Just promise me you'll look into it, yeah?"
Milo squeezes her hand. "I will Anais, I promise."
Anais appraises him before offering a gentle smile. For a while, the two of them lie in silence, hand in hand. Eventually, Anais is the first to let go, using her now free hand to point at the sky.
"You know, people say that our destiny, our fate, is written in the stars."
