Diego Morales is a leaky indie folk faucet. (
indiefolk) wrote in
gooseberryhigh2016-10-02 06:48 pm
Entry tags:
PREMONITION
Who: Cecil Honeychurch & Diego Morales
When: Saturday, September 8. VERY BACKDATED.
Where: The Gardens
What: Cecil and Diego catch up, and Cecil tells Diego about a strange premonition he had.
Warnings: Cecil causes cavities.
When: Saturday, September 8. VERY BACKDATED.
Where: The Gardens
What: Cecil and Diego catch up, and Cecil tells Diego about a strange premonition he had.
Warnings: Cecil causes cavities.
It was still warm out and Cecil knew that wouldn't last much longer, not with summer fading into autumn, so sitting in the grass and taking in the atmosphere of heat and stillness and chirping insects while he waited for Diego was a pleasure all its own. Not one that would compare to spending some real time with his friend for the first time since June, but still. He didn't hear any footsteps yet, though, and so took the opportunity to flop back in the grass with a contented sigh and his hands hooked behind his head. His bag sat beside him, full of books he ought to be studying and a wand he ought to be taking through a half-dozen new charms that he needed to commit to memory, but there wasn't time to do any of that before Diego arrived and it felt nice just to sprawl and wait.
The clearing was too wide and open for Diego to imagine he could get away with sneaking up on Cecil, although he considered it the whole time he was making his approach. His head still felt heavy from the cold, but a well-brewed potion had kicked most of his symptoms, leaving him fee to smell the garden. The scent was half plants and half soil, all of it baking under the late afternoon sun alongside Cecil.
"Don't tell me you're asleep," Diego called out. He continued talking, light and content, as he finally came to stand over Cecil. "Are they running you ragged already?"
Cecil's eyes hadn't closed, so he saw Diego as soon as he came into view and smiled broadly. He climbed to his feet, brushing at the bits of greenery that had caught in his hair a few times and still managing to miss one by the time he dropped his hand again. "Just...taking everything in," he corrected with a shrug, not knowing how else to put it, then added, "In a few weeks, though? Maybe. There are worse places to sneak naps." Though they both knew wouldn't.
He paused, looking Diego over and asking more soberly, "How're you feeling?"
Diego shrugged and looked down, having the grace to look embarrassed. "I'll live."
As Cecil stood up to his full height, Diego was quickly dwarfed. He was used to it, though, and as he walked past Cecil he reached up and patted his very tall shoulder. Off the journals, and with Cecil no less, Diego wasn't so tempted by bluster and jokes. God help him when he got too introspective, but that had been the way of things for about five months. That night had been strange, but fun. But eye-opening. And after all that had happened, getting slapped with a cold seemed about right.
"I did it to myself," he admitted, and slumped onto a shady bench. "Story of my life, right? Don't worry, it's the only trouble I've gotten into while you weren't looking. Every time I think I might do something stupid, I imagine that one face you make."
Cecil turned and trailed a few slow steps behind Diego, but didn't join him on the bench. Instead, he hooked his hands into his pockets and pointed out evenly, "Doesn't sound like you did anything that everyone else wasn't doing. Just a game, right?" Still, the thought of participating in such games made the taller boy shift from one foot to the other, a hint of awkwardness showing through. He didn't have much experience in that particular realm. Any, really. He wasn't a prude and his sexual orientation wasn't a secret or something that he felt any shame about, but it had just never happened. No boyfriends. No kisses. And he wouldn't want his first one to be like that. But that didn't change the fact that the antics at the party shouldn't have been a big deal or that Diego didn't have anything to blame himself for.
Now it was his turn to look embarrassed and he produced a slightly lopsided smile. "Which face is that?"
Diego leaned back and crossed his ankles, grinning back up at Cecil. There was something about the way Cecil moved that seemed uncomfortable, but it slipped through Diego's fingers before he could name it. Maybe it was having to be the shiny new Head Boy while also tolerating the common knowledge that his friends were throwing wild parties. It was a tricky balance, especially in Azurcrest where celebration was always at the heart of things. Diego didn't envy Cecil, but he didn't doubt Cecil's ability to figure it out.
"The one where you're disappointed, but not surprised. And when I see it I know immediately that you'll forgive me, but you just wish I'd thought things through a little better." Diego gestured along with one hand as he went through the overly wordy description. "That face. It's a good one. Gets right to the heart of all my Catholic guilt."
Cecil's smile faltered at this description because, while it was an integral part of being Head Boy to enforce the rules and he did wish Diego would think prior to acting with a little more frequency, he didn't actually like making his friend feel guilty or like he was judging them. But it was a balance. He looked down at the other boy for a long moment. "I don't mean to be so..." his words failed him and he shook his head, "You know I'll always forgive you, right? Because we're friends. And because you're one of the most genuinely good-hearted people I know, even if you get carried away sometimes. I just don't want you to make things harder on yourself, that's all."
Diego started shaking his head as soon as Cecil began talking. He was ready to snuff out all this talk about Cecil feeling bad that Diego felt bad, and then Diego would feel bad that Cecil felt bad, and so on and so forth. It was a ridiculous loop, but Diego could see how the two of the ended up getting into it. It was rare that Cecil made Diego ever feel truly terrible, though, and the most recent time that’d happened, Diego had deserved it. He hated thinking back to the face Cecil had made when Diego had told him about The Tabitha Thing. It wasn’t something he wanted to casually joke about.
The second half of Cecil’s comments caught him off guard. Diego abruptly ducked his head, and ran a hand through his hair. He definitely didn’t deserve that kind of praise, speaking of The Tabitha Thing, but he couldn’t avoid grinning like an idiot anyway. “Dude,” he said eloquently, and waved a hand like he could make the compliment disappear. Diego hoped it was a good show of false modesty.
“You’re not ‘so’ anything, Cecil. Don’t worry.” Diego finally looked back up, still glowing a little. “I’m going to be fine, and you’re going to be a responsible Head Boy who sometimes has to tell me to knock it off.”
It took Diego's embarrassed reaction, the lowered head and 'aw shucks' hand gesture, to make Cecil realize how sentimental his own words had been. He laughed a little and smiled sheepishly and finally moved to join the other boy on the bench. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed, giving the smaller boy an affectionate nudge with his shoulder before settling back and looking out over the garden. Every summer, he went home and forgot just how stunning it was. It was strange to think that this would be his last year to come back and be reminded. After a moment, he smiled more easily and added, "I do have a good feeling about this year, though. You know? ...Or maybe I've just been spending too much time on Divination."
“Too much time on Divination?” Diego echoed, rocked by Cecil’s nudge. “Isn’t it kind of your thing? I mean, Divination and apiarism.” Reflexively, Diego looked in the direction of Cecil’s bees, although he couldn’t see them from this part of the gardens. They made him a little nervous whenever he had to go near them, but he braved it every now and then for Cecil’s sake. He’d never once been stung by a Cecil-bee.
“Are you saying you something good in the future?” Diego continued with barely disguised curiosity.
Cecil smiled, supposed that divination and apiarism were his things, and followed Diego's gaze momentarily in the direction of the hive. The bees were doing well and, with the proper protective charms and magical assistance, they would keep thriving all through the winter just like his father's did at home. When he looked back at the other boy, he gave a small shake of his head. "Nothing like that. Nothing specific. It's just a feeling. I've been practicing so much, trying to figure out what works, I think I might be reading too much into everything."
It was no secret that, while Cecil could make predictions that were normally both accurate and clear, they were almost always insignificant and undirected. When he tried to predict the weather, he received information about upcoming Quidditch scores or changes in the dinner menu or the fact that a freshman's familiar was going to be sick after getting into someone's supply of Sugared Butterfly Wings. Things that it did little good to know. It was still like that, mostly. Mr. Chettri had told him that it was a problem of will and that the tools were using him more than he was using the tools. Except.
His brows furrowed in a moment of consideration, then he admitted, "I did have a vision last week. Of a white moose. And I had a sense that I should...go out to the forest or the mountains. Like there's something out there or something that needs to be done out there." Realizing how this sounded, he laughed and touched the back of his neck, "What do you think? Is that good or bad?"
“Don’t know. I think it’s a little weird, maybe.” Diego had angled himself on the bench to get a better look at Cecil, but he still had to crane his neck. Divination made no sense to him. He wanted to believe in it, at the very least. He took Cecil’s advice every time it was offered, whether the source was tea leaves or simple common sense.
“Are you going to listen to it?” Diego found himself looking back out towards the forest in the distance. It seemed to go on forever sometimes.
After years at Gooseberry and plenty of excursions, the woods were a comfortable, familiar place. He felt confident moving through the thick trees, following the narrow trails that wove throughout the school. Sometimes, though, the stories about the forests being haunted got to him. Briefly, he would be reminded of how unknowable it was, and how paper thin his confidence could be. It never stopped him from going out, though. “The woods are kind of weird sometimes. Or more likely, everyone says they’re weird and it’d lodged itself into my subconscious. So if you do decide to go on more hikes, just don’t go out there alone.”
Weird seemed about right to Cecil too. He was accustomed to more mundane and straight-forward predictions, not these cryptic and symbolic visions, and the difference made him wonder. He dropped his hand back into his lap and replied in a slow, thoughtful voice, "Probably. This seems...important, somehow. I wouldn't feel right brushing it off." Then he shook his head and looked over at Diego, adding more casually, "I'm out there frequently for class and club activities anyway. And I promise I won't make any extra trips without roping someone else in too."
He considered, then reminded his friend with a small grin, "That's against the rules, anyway. So you know I couldn't."
“Rules, rules, rules,” Diego sighed, and flopped his head back on the back of the bench. He was smiling, though, which gave away just how serious he was really being. A few moments passed, and Diego’s smile faded a little, and became decidedly wry.
“I’m going to try and not make this year too hard on you,” he suddenly promised, which really he shouldn’t have. Diego knew his record with promises. But then again, so did Cecil. Maybe he’d take Diego’s big, sweeping proclamations with the grain of salt they deserved. As Diego thought, his tongue kept moving. “Last year I was--”
Diego grimaced suddenly. He was so bad at keeping things to himself. Cecil did not need to be in the middle of him and Tabitha and what he’d done. He sat up, shook his head, and smiled with what he hoped was easy confidence and generous warmth. “Last year sucked, but you say this year’ll be better, and I think you’re right. I’m going to make you break a few rules, though. Next party, you have to come. I need to toast to the Head Boy.”
The sight of Diego sprawling dramatically back against the bench prompted Cecil's own grin to broaden, but the expression gradually waned as his friend began to speak. He appreciated the promise, even if he did recognize that good intentions wouldn't necessarily keep the other boy from getting carried away and finding himself in a dozen kinds of trouble, but the mention of last year was more complicated. It had been difficult to see Diego in the same way after he'd cheated on Tabitha and lied and tried to cover the whole mess up. Even now, knowing the situation as well as anyone not immediately involved could, he still didn't know quite what to say about it. He tensed, felt an uncomfortable pang of gratitude when it became clear that he wasn't going to mention the incident directly, and reached out to put a hand on the other boy's shoulder, giving it a firm and reassuring squeeze. "It will," he reiterated, "I really think it will be better."
When he drew back, he tried on a slightly uneasy smile and pointed out, "We should probably make sure I'm worth toasting first. But...I think I'd still like to go."
Diego’s expression brightened immediately.
“Yeah?” He needed confirmation on this. Not that Cecil was particularly anti-party, but Diego could guess how this year was going to go. He was no Seer, but he had a vision of his friend bogged down by the idea of what a Head Boy should be. He’d feel bad about having fun, and be stuck doing nothing but scolding them.
“You won’t regret it. Unless you catch the plague, but,” Diego paused coyly, and elbowed Cecil a little, “I already know you’re going to try and weasel out of any kissing games.”
"Yeah," Cecil confirmed, looking slightly sheepish but smiling more genuinely. He did like parties, to an extent, but he mostly liked how much his friends liked parties and how it felt to get caught up in their momentum. Beyond that, though, it was senior year and the opportunity for such parties would soon be gone forever both because of graduation and because the Grotto itself would be out of reach. It seemed important to make the remaining chances count. He didn't say any of this, though, and just laughed as Diego began to tease him.
"It's not 'weaseling out' if I just say I'm not doing it," he protested, "And I'm not doing it. Plague or not." He almost added that he didn't want his first kiss to be at the whim of a spinning wine bottle, but caught himself before he could. He didn't want to get the conversation going down that particular path. Still, a bit of heat crept into his face and he quickly shook his head, changing the subject, "Do you think The Holy Rosicrucians will play next time? Seems like it's been forever."
“I know,” Diego exclaimed, sitting up even further. “It sucks not seeing the band all summer. But next big party, we’re doing something. I’ll dedicate a song to our new Head Boy and Girl. Do you think For The Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti will bring down the mood too much?” From the twinkle in Diego’s eye, he clearly knew the answer was yes, yes it would. His taste in music usually stood in stark contrast to nearly everything about how he acted, but that was fine. Diego could fill up all that empty space with good music and deep lyrics. It was close enough to get him by with most people.
“The metaphor’s a little forced, but I think you’ll appreciate the line about cleaning up all our messes.” Diego considered this only half-seriously as he pulled himself to his feet. “Or would we be promising to clean up yours? Let’s get out of here, and I’ll explain the whole thing in agonizing detail to take our mind off the uphill hike to Azurcrest.”
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Cecil responded brightly, watching while the other boy stood and then following after him, "But you guys'll be great." He glanced momentarily in the direction of the Azurcest camp, still a considerable walk from here but he didn't mind that at all. With Diego, it would go by quickly. Probably too quickly. When he turned back, he moved to put an arm around his friend's shoulders, giving him a quick but firm half-hug. "Sucks not seeing you all summer too," he added earnestly before drawing his arm back and starting to walk, "Okay. So. Enlighten me."
Diego grinned, and just barely managed to get his arm around Cecil before they broke apart. “Yeah. I missed you, man,” he agreed, no hesitation. His mind threatened to linger on how this would be the last year he would get to spend with Cecil and everyone else. He smothered that thought like it was an old routine, and while he was at it, cut off the part of him that said everyone would move on to better, more interesting people once they graduated.
“I’ll play it for you when we get up there, but…” And Diego scarcely stopped talking after that, even as gardens became a barely contained forest, and the ground began to ascend.
The clearing was too wide and open for Diego to imagine he could get away with sneaking up on Cecil, although he considered it the whole time he was making his approach. His head still felt heavy from the cold, but a well-brewed potion had kicked most of his symptoms, leaving him fee to smell the garden. The scent was half plants and half soil, all of it baking under the late afternoon sun alongside Cecil.
"Don't tell me you're asleep," Diego called out. He continued talking, light and content, as he finally came to stand over Cecil. "Are they running you ragged already?"
Cecil's eyes hadn't closed, so he saw Diego as soon as he came into view and smiled broadly. He climbed to his feet, brushing at the bits of greenery that had caught in his hair a few times and still managing to miss one by the time he dropped his hand again. "Just...taking everything in," he corrected with a shrug, not knowing how else to put it, then added, "In a few weeks, though? Maybe. There are worse places to sneak naps." Though they both knew wouldn't.
He paused, looking Diego over and asking more soberly, "How're you feeling?"
Diego shrugged and looked down, having the grace to look embarrassed. "I'll live."
As Cecil stood up to his full height, Diego was quickly dwarfed. He was used to it, though, and as he walked past Cecil he reached up and patted his very tall shoulder. Off the journals, and with Cecil no less, Diego wasn't so tempted by bluster and jokes. God help him when he got too introspective, but that had been the way of things for about five months. That night had been strange, but fun. But eye-opening. And after all that had happened, getting slapped with a cold seemed about right.
"I did it to myself," he admitted, and slumped onto a shady bench. "Story of my life, right? Don't worry, it's the only trouble I've gotten into while you weren't looking. Every time I think I might do something stupid, I imagine that one face you make."
Cecil turned and trailed a few slow steps behind Diego, but didn't join him on the bench. Instead, he hooked his hands into his pockets and pointed out evenly, "Doesn't sound like you did anything that everyone else wasn't doing. Just a game, right?" Still, the thought of participating in such games made the taller boy shift from one foot to the other, a hint of awkwardness showing through. He didn't have much experience in that particular realm. Any, really. He wasn't a prude and his sexual orientation wasn't a secret or something that he felt any shame about, but it had just never happened. No boyfriends. No kisses. And he wouldn't want his first one to be like that. But that didn't change the fact that the antics at the party shouldn't have been a big deal or that Diego didn't have anything to blame himself for.
Now it was his turn to look embarrassed and he produced a slightly lopsided smile. "Which face is that?"
Diego leaned back and crossed his ankles, grinning back up at Cecil. There was something about the way Cecil moved that seemed uncomfortable, but it slipped through Diego's fingers before he could name it. Maybe it was having to be the shiny new Head Boy while also tolerating the common knowledge that his friends were throwing wild parties. It was a tricky balance, especially in Azurcrest where celebration was always at the heart of things. Diego didn't envy Cecil, but he didn't doubt Cecil's ability to figure it out.
"The one where you're disappointed, but not surprised. And when I see it I know immediately that you'll forgive me, but you just wish I'd thought things through a little better." Diego gestured along with one hand as he went through the overly wordy description. "That face. It's a good one. Gets right to the heart of all my Catholic guilt."
Cecil's smile faltered at this description because, while it was an integral part of being Head Boy to enforce the rules and he did wish Diego would think prior to acting with a little more frequency, he didn't actually like making his friend feel guilty or like he was judging them. But it was a balance. He looked down at the other boy for a long moment. "I don't mean to be so..." his words failed him and he shook his head, "You know I'll always forgive you, right? Because we're friends. And because you're one of the most genuinely good-hearted people I know, even if you get carried away sometimes. I just don't want you to make things harder on yourself, that's all."
Diego started shaking his head as soon as Cecil began talking. He was ready to snuff out all this talk about Cecil feeling bad that Diego felt bad, and then Diego would feel bad that Cecil felt bad, and so on and so forth. It was a ridiculous loop, but Diego could see how the two of the ended up getting into it. It was rare that Cecil made Diego ever feel truly terrible, though, and the most recent time that’d happened, Diego had deserved it. He hated thinking back to the face Cecil had made when Diego had told him about The Tabitha Thing. It wasn’t something he wanted to casually joke about.
The second half of Cecil’s comments caught him off guard. Diego abruptly ducked his head, and ran a hand through his hair. He definitely didn’t deserve that kind of praise, speaking of The Tabitha Thing, but he couldn’t avoid grinning like an idiot anyway. “Dude,” he said eloquently, and waved a hand like he could make the compliment disappear. Diego hoped it was a good show of false modesty.
“You’re not ‘so’ anything, Cecil. Don’t worry.” Diego finally looked back up, still glowing a little. “I’m going to be fine, and you’re going to be a responsible Head Boy who sometimes has to tell me to knock it off.”
It took Diego's embarrassed reaction, the lowered head and 'aw shucks' hand gesture, to make Cecil realize how sentimental his own words had been. He laughed a little and smiled sheepishly and finally moved to join the other boy on the bench. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed, giving the smaller boy an affectionate nudge with his shoulder before settling back and looking out over the garden. Every summer, he went home and forgot just how stunning it was. It was strange to think that this would be his last year to come back and be reminded. After a moment, he smiled more easily and added, "I do have a good feeling about this year, though. You know? ...Or maybe I've just been spending too much time on Divination."
“Too much time on Divination?” Diego echoed, rocked by Cecil’s nudge. “Isn’t it kind of your thing? I mean, Divination and apiarism.” Reflexively, Diego looked in the direction of Cecil’s bees, although he couldn’t see them from this part of the gardens. They made him a little nervous whenever he had to go near them, but he braved it every now and then for Cecil’s sake. He’d never once been stung by a Cecil-bee.
“Are you saying you something good in the future?” Diego continued with barely disguised curiosity.
Cecil smiled, supposed that divination and apiarism were his things, and followed Diego's gaze momentarily in the direction of the hive. The bees were doing well and, with the proper protective charms and magical assistance, they would keep thriving all through the winter just like his father's did at home. When he looked back at the other boy, he gave a small shake of his head. "Nothing like that. Nothing specific. It's just a feeling. I've been practicing so much, trying to figure out what works, I think I might be reading too much into everything."
It was no secret that, while Cecil could make predictions that were normally both accurate and clear, they were almost always insignificant and undirected. When he tried to predict the weather, he received information about upcoming Quidditch scores or changes in the dinner menu or the fact that a freshman's familiar was going to be sick after getting into someone's supply of Sugared Butterfly Wings. Things that it did little good to know. It was still like that, mostly. Mr. Chettri had told him that it was a problem of will and that the tools were using him more than he was using the tools. Except.
His brows furrowed in a moment of consideration, then he admitted, "I did have a vision last week. Of a white moose. And I had a sense that I should...go out to the forest or the mountains. Like there's something out there or something that needs to be done out there." Realizing how this sounded, he laughed and touched the back of his neck, "What do you think? Is that good or bad?"
“Don’t know. I think it’s a little weird, maybe.” Diego had angled himself on the bench to get a better look at Cecil, but he still had to crane his neck. Divination made no sense to him. He wanted to believe in it, at the very least. He took Cecil’s advice every time it was offered, whether the source was tea leaves or simple common sense.
“Are you going to listen to it?” Diego found himself looking back out towards the forest in the distance. It seemed to go on forever sometimes.
After years at Gooseberry and plenty of excursions, the woods were a comfortable, familiar place. He felt confident moving through the thick trees, following the narrow trails that wove throughout the school. Sometimes, though, the stories about the forests being haunted got to him. Briefly, he would be reminded of how unknowable it was, and how paper thin his confidence could be. It never stopped him from going out, though. “The woods are kind of weird sometimes. Or more likely, everyone says they’re weird and it’d lodged itself into my subconscious. So if you do decide to go on more hikes, just don’t go out there alone.”
Weird seemed about right to Cecil too. He was accustomed to more mundane and straight-forward predictions, not these cryptic and symbolic visions, and the difference made him wonder. He dropped his hand back into his lap and replied in a slow, thoughtful voice, "Probably. This seems...important, somehow. I wouldn't feel right brushing it off." Then he shook his head and looked over at Diego, adding more casually, "I'm out there frequently for class and club activities anyway. And I promise I won't make any extra trips without roping someone else in too."
He considered, then reminded his friend with a small grin, "That's against the rules, anyway. So you know I couldn't."
“Rules, rules, rules,” Diego sighed, and flopped his head back on the back of the bench. He was smiling, though, which gave away just how serious he was really being. A few moments passed, and Diego’s smile faded a little, and became decidedly wry.
“I’m going to try and not make this year too hard on you,” he suddenly promised, which really he shouldn’t have. Diego knew his record with promises. But then again, so did Cecil. Maybe he’d take Diego’s big, sweeping proclamations with the grain of salt they deserved. As Diego thought, his tongue kept moving. “Last year I was--”
Diego grimaced suddenly. He was so bad at keeping things to himself. Cecil did not need to be in the middle of him and Tabitha and what he’d done. He sat up, shook his head, and smiled with what he hoped was easy confidence and generous warmth. “Last year sucked, but you say this year’ll be better, and I think you’re right. I’m going to make you break a few rules, though. Next party, you have to come. I need to toast to the Head Boy.”
The sight of Diego sprawling dramatically back against the bench prompted Cecil's own grin to broaden, but the expression gradually waned as his friend began to speak. He appreciated the promise, even if he did recognize that good intentions wouldn't necessarily keep the other boy from getting carried away and finding himself in a dozen kinds of trouble, but the mention of last year was more complicated. It had been difficult to see Diego in the same way after he'd cheated on Tabitha and lied and tried to cover the whole mess up. Even now, knowing the situation as well as anyone not immediately involved could, he still didn't know quite what to say about it. He tensed, felt an uncomfortable pang of gratitude when it became clear that he wasn't going to mention the incident directly, and reached out to put a hand on the other boy's shoulder, giving it a firm and reassuring squeeze. "It will," he reiterated, "I really think it will be better."
When he drew back, he tried on a slightly uneasy smile and pointed out, "We should probably make sure I'm worth toasting first. But...I think I'd still like to go."
Diego’s expression brightened immediately.
“Yeah?” He needed confirmation on this. Not that Cecil was particularly anti-party, but Diego could guess how this year was going to go. He was no Seer, but he had a vision of his friend bogged down by the idea of what a Head Boy should be. He’d feel bad about having fun, and be stuck doing nothing but scolding them.
“You won’t regret it. Unless you catch the plague, but,” Diego paused coyly, and elbowed Cecil a little, “I already know you’re going to try and weasel out of any kissing games.”
"Yeah," Cecil confirmed, looking slightly sheepish but smiling more genuinely. He did like parties, to an extent, but he mostly liked how much his friends liked parties and how it felt to get caught up in their momentum. Beyond that, though, it was senior year and the opportunity for such parties would soon be gone forever both because of graduation and because the Grotto itself would be out of reach. It seemed important to make the remaining chances count. He didn't say any of this, though, and just laughed as Diego began to tease him.
"It's not 'weaseling out' if I just say I'm not doing it," he protested, "And I'm not doing it. Plague or not." He almost added that he didn't want his first kiss to be at the whim of a spinning wine bottle, but caught himself before he could. He didn't want to get the conversation going down that particular path. Still, a bit of heat crept into his face and he quickly shook his head, changing the subject, "Do you think The Holy Rosicrucians will play next time? Seems like it's been forever."
“I know,” Diego exclaimed, sitting up even further. “It sucks not seeing the band all summer. But next big party, we’re doing something. I’ll dedicate a song to our new Head Boy and Girl. Do you think For The Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti will bring down the mood too much?” From the twinkle in Diego’s eye, he clearly knew the answer was yes, yes it would. His taste in music usually stood in stark contrast to nearly everything about how he acted, but that was fine. Diego could fill up all that empty space with good music and deep lyrics. It was close enough to get him by with most people.
“The metaphor’s a little forced, but I think you’ll appreciate the line about cleaning up all our messes.” Diego considered this only half-seriously as he pulled himself to his feet. “Or would we be promising to clean up yours? Let’s get out of here, and I’ll explain the whole thing in agonizing detail to take our mind off the uphill hike to Azurcrest.”
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Cecil responded brightly, watching while the other boy stood and then following after him, "But you guys'll be great." He glanced momentarily in the direction of the Azurcest camp, still a considerable walk from here but he didn't mind that at all. With Diego, it would go by quickly. Probably too quickly. When he turned back, he moved to put an arm around his friend's shoulders, giving him a quick but firm half-hug. "Sucks not seeing you all summer too," he added earnestly before drawing his arm back and starting to walk, "Okay. So. Enlighten me."
Diego grinned, and just barely managed to get his arm around Cecil before they broke apart. “Yeah. I missed you, man,” he agreed, no hesitation. His mind threatened to linger on how this would be the last year he would get to spend with Cecil and everyone else. He smothered that thought like it was an old routine, and while he was at it, cut off the part of him that said everyone would move on to better, more interesting people once they graduated.
“I’ll play it for you when we get up there, but…” And Diego scarcely stopped talking after that, even as gardens became a barely contained forest, and the ground began to ascend.
