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Vinny Taylor

Things were always simpler outside, in the park, in the tree. My feet dangled from where I sat on the branch and my eyes caught a figure coming toward me. I was relieved when I realized it was Carson. My guilt had eaten at me after shutting him out earlier in the night while he was at my house. Out here at the park, I couldn't shut him out. And I didn't want to.

Carson immediately started climbing the tree to get to me. He had done better this time around than the time before and climbed it quicker than I thought he would, giving me less time to think of what I wanted to say to him.

When I texted him to meet me here, his response was immediate, like he had been waiting by the phone for me or staring at it thinking of something to say to me. I hated thinking about the stress I caused him.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, pulling himself onto the branch and shifting so he was right next to me with his hands clutching the branch for dear life.

"Not really," I said. I didn't want to lie to him or hide from him. "Just don't feel my best today."

I was surprised I was even allowing myself to say that to him. Part of me wanted to hide the dark parts of me so that he would never have to experience them, but I knew that would be impossible. And if I kept him in the dark about it, it would only leave him hurt and confused. And possibly resentful.

"You know you can talk to me about anything," Carson replied, sliding his hand to go over mine. His hand was warm over my ice cold one, evidence that I had been outside for too long. "Your hand is freezing," he said.

"I know," I replied, looking down at our hands. "There's really nothing to talk about. It's just one of those days."

My half-truths to him wouldn't be able to last long, but there was only so much vulnerability I could show without baring myself to him and leaving myself defenseless. I wanted to tell myself that the walls I built around me protected me. That was how I justified this anyway.

Carson's thumb started moving over the back of my hand. He had a contemplative look on his face, like he was deciding on whether to speak, or, what to speak about.

"My mom wants to have you over for dinner some time," he said after a few moments of silence. "I told her that it might be too early for that, but I'd talk to you about it."

The truth of the matter was, no time would be enough time for me to prepare to have dinner with Carson's mother. I would be stressed out over it no matter what.

"Do you think that's something you'd wanna do?" he asked after I didn't say anything.

"Yeah, I mean, yes I—" I paused. "I want to, I just don't want her to think I'm not good for you or anything."

Carson shot me a puzzled look. "Why would she think that?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Because you're you and I'm me."

Carson let out a laugh and shook his head at me. "Yes, very good Vin, you're you and I'm me."

"I'm serious," I told him, my lips turned in a frown.

"So am I," Carson replied. "She already knows you, and likes you, so it's not some formal thing or her trying to decide if you're good for me or not. She just wants to see you."

"When did you tell her about us?"

"I didn't really have to tell her," he said. "She just kinda knew."

"And she's okay with it?"

Carson chuckled. "She's more than okay with it."

I let out a content sigh and leaned closer to Carson, resting my head on his shoulder.

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