Chapter Text
In the blink of an eye, sunny days where the sun set at nine slowly ground to a halt. Autumn was on the rise, and so was the new school year. So, of course, Garroth was getting ready the day before he went back.
Packing and organizing, picking favorites out of his pens and pencils, stocking up on new binders and notebooks. He'd need them. Junior year, already. Shuffling textbooks and papers and pencil cases around and trying to find the most efficient way to sort them in his backpack was harder than he realized.
At least he cleared the whole day for it. It was always good to plan ahead, even for planning ahead!
Actually, thinking about it more, he realized it was sort of ironic and comical. But that's just how Garroth worked. Unfortunately serious most of the time, or so people complained, anyway. It didn't really bother him that much. Only if Laurance said it, obviously. That was his best friend!
It's natural to take what your best friend says to heart.
Anyway, he'd redone the organization system a million times- Binders and notebooks in the back of the main pocket, whereas the pencil case stayed in the little external pocket. But it was not without its torture! Organization came in many shapes and formats. Like alphabetical, numerical, color-coding, size sorting– biggest to smallest, or smallest to biggest– either way, he tried them both. For now, he settled on an alphabetical system for them.
But maybe that'd change again, too. Like how he switched binders and notebooks with textbooks and made it so the binders and notebooks were easier to reach and less likely to get messed up in his backpack, which would undoubtedly be full of things tomorrow. First day…
Was it really less than 24 hours away?
That thought brewed mixed feelings. Nervous ones, like the worry of more insane drama this year. Excited ones, at the idea of starting school again. Dreadful ones, at the idea of another art class that he utterly sucked at. Just his humble opinion, though.
Yet all these thoughts were interrupted by nothing, by silence. It made him really wonder what time it was.
It was very possible, very likely, that he stayed up too late and ruined his entire plans for tomorrow. He could just check his phone.
Apparently wanting to check the time manifested a notification that lit up his entire room and made his phone buzz. He couldn't help but jump back, startled.
For a moment, he just stared at the screen that had shortly relocked itself. Wondering who it could be, and what about? And- well, the curiosity didn't last long.
Laurance. Yeah, he shouldn't have been so shocked. Given how Laurance could get when school was on the horizon again and all that. And given that it was Laurance.
laurance: you ready for tomorrow?
…Well. Yeah, kind of. The 3 little dots appeared and disappeared a few times. The other seemed to have more to say, but wanted to wait for Garroth’s answer. Considerate, like he always was with him.
Me: Sort of. It's always… school, you know.
Instantly chimed in a reply.
laurance: you don't have to tell me twice LOL
Me: Are you ready?
Those damned dots again. Laurance was hesitating a lot. Probably because he was way more nervous or upset than he was letting on.
Well, how did Garroth know? He always knew. Both of them always knew when something was going on with the other. Even over text, which was kind of remarkable.
laurance: i really don't wanna go back yet
laurance: we still haven't gotten to go camping like we said we would
Now, it was Garroth’s turn to type and retype a sentence a million times.
I know… Maybe fall break?
Not good enough.
Yeah, it really sucks. We just ran out of time
Try again!
We could try to do it during spring break instead…
Why was it… so hard to word. Man.
Cruel world.
Next summer might work out better, we can make sure of it.
With how much Garroth was typing, it was probably making him anxious. Dammit…
Me: We've got time for it this year. I'll make sure it actually happens.
laurance: thanks
laurance: i was really looking forward to it
Me: Me too…
laurance: well, we’re planning a new one
laurance: so it all works out :)
Me: True! We shouldn't dwell on it much. We've got a solution now.
laurance: yess
laurance: speaking of solutions,, how's that packing going?
Me: Ugh. Better than last year.
laurance: that's good, so why are u annoyed then?
Me: I haven't really done anything else I need to do. Like showering. Or eating.
Me: The house is so quiet, too. Vylad’s out at a friend's house, Zane’s out with mom…
laurance: i get it
laurance: u must be feeling restless since the house is usually so boisterous
Me: Yeah. Kind of.
laurance: maybe u should eat something then go shower
Me: I was getting there. In a way.
laurance: don't skip ur shower man i don't wanna deal with a stinky you tomorrow
Me: D:
Me: I see how it is. This friendship is conditional.
laurance: NO
laurance: PLEASE SHOWER TONIGHT
Me: And if I don't?
laurance: i will um
laurance: not have lunch with you tomorrow
Me: Well that's just rude!
laurance: would you have lunch with ME if i smelled bad
laurance: when was the last time you showered anyways
Me: I shower every other day, don't insult me…
Me: Also yes, because you're my friend regardless of how bad you smell.
laurance: awww heartwarming
laurance: now go eat
Me: We have nothing to eat, I think.
laurance: do not lie to me i was there 2 days ago
Me: Okay, there's leftover pasta…
laurance: there you go
Me: What if it reheats all weird and soggy but with the hard bits..?
laurance: then give it to the raccoons, they'd be happy to eat it
Me: Did you feed them when you were over on Wednesday?
laurance: possibly
Me: Laurance.
laurance: they're just little guys
Me: Fair point. They are just little guys.
Me: Brb, I'll go heat up my food.
laurance: wait take me with you
Me: ?
laurance: you said the house is quiet
laurance: let me fix that
laurance: it's not really helping your mood
Me: True…
Me: Do you wanna call, then?
laurance: you know it
Not even a breath later, a little “Laurance is calling” popped up on his screen. Without a second thought- scratch that- actually, even without a first thought, Garroth hit the green button with an incredulous chuckle.
The call connected instantaneously. His chuckles probably carried to the other end as he stood up, phone still in hand. And he hit the speaker button on instinct as soon as the call started, like usual.
It was their habit, honestly.
“You couldn’t wait a second..?” Garroth prodded, still huffing out a laugh as he shook his head. It was like Laurance could tell.
His best friend laughed, joyous and booming. “Nope, I was thinking about asking to call earlier, but figured you were still organizing and packing. Now or never.”
“Wh- You… What if I was in the bathroom?!” Garroth's genuine concern must have reached Laurance’s ears, but he laughed anyway.
“Then you wouldn't have picked up! Probably.” On the other end, some fabric shifted through the static of the call. Laurance's voice got a little louder.
“Well, yeah… Okay. I guess so.”
Silence encompassed the two. Only the hum of the AC system and random sounds from Laurance's end accompanied the still air and empty house. It still bothered him, more than he liked to admit.
But their silence was more comfortable than that. It always had been.
“Hey, did you heat up your food yet?” Laurance’s voice carried. It sent a little ping of realization into his brain.
Garroth stumbled for words for a minute. Then settled on: “No. I forgot again.”
His friend simply sighed, making a small sound of disapproval. Sorta like a tsk, sorta like something else entirely. “Garr, go heat that leftover pasta on the stove.”
“But-”
“I mean it. You haven't eaten anything else yet, you said you forgot pretty much the entire day. Too much focus on one task, I’d wager.”
Man. He really did know him well. Kind of… scarily so.
Defiantly, Garroth huffed in challenge. “Well, what if I wanna heat it in the microwave?”
“It's more likely to get that weird texture you hate that way.”
“...Crap. I didn't- really think about that.”
His best friend barked out a laugh again, hard enough that he felt embarrassed. And before speaking, he cleared his throat. “Right, so you just wanted to be a brat.”
Garroth scoffed and walked to the kitchen in that familiar way. Sound had newly reached a comfortable level. “Not true…”
The other end was silent. Only a subtle, unnamed background sound clued him in on Laurance’s presence. “Sure, sure. You're in the kitchen now, riiight?”
He practically sang into Garroth’s ears. As a result of the crackling melody, he only laughed. “Yeah, I'm grabbing the Tupperware. May not be able to hear you for a second.”
“Alright, take your time.”
Laurance hummed in the background as Garroth turned his back to the phone after placing it on the counter. Sliding across the floor in his socks to reach the fridge, he pulled the doors open and looked in the freezer. For some reason. Pasta wasn't typically frozen, he knew theirs wasn’t.
Freezers were just captivating, he supposed.
Well, he closed it. He turned his attention to the regular fridge and rummaged around, having to take a few other dishes out and rearranging them, with how crowded the shelves were. How much of that stuff had gone bad..? Ugh, that was a problem for another time.
Something did smell pretty rancid. He couldn't source the scent other than something deeply rooted in the fridge. It might've been moldy, too. Gross.
Actually, he kind of honed in on what Laurance was humming. It was somehow familiar to him. Maybe it was a popular song, or maybe it was just because it was Laurance humming it. He'd have to ask when his head wasn't in Russia’s twin: the back of the fridge.
The tip of his nose was cold from being in there so long. He poked his head back out and coincidentally spotted the Tupperware where the pasta had been put away. With a cheer of success, he reached up high and spun around to place it on the counter next to his phone.
It was a tad more forceful than he intended to put it down, but not enough to do any damage. Probably just a hunger-filled mistake. Steak… he could go for steak.
With a bit of force, he undid the latches with four loud snaps. The lid popped off. Laurance only paused for a second, seeming to realize what the sound was pretty quickly.
Garroth crossed to the stove and turned the dial a notch or two over medium. Whatever that temperature was. Leaning down, he pulled on a cabinet that squeaked painfully loud and excruciatingly high-pitched. Out came a pan for the pasta, he closed it with a dulled, wooden thud.
Carefully dumping the rest of the pasta into the pan went well. He placed it on the burner and turned around, holding the device that carried Laurance in his hands tenderly. Not like dropping or moving too fast would actually hurt him or it.
Yet he put the phone next to the stove. Laurance seemed to just know, like usual. “I take it, you found the pasta.”
“Yep,” Garroth beamed, “and a pan. It's on the stove now.”
His stomach angrily growled, and he prayed to Irene that Laurance didn't hear it and that his phone didn't betray him by picking up the audio.
If Laurance did hear it, he didn't comment. He knew Garroth was hungry already. He was literally making food. Laurance encouraged him to do as such.
Garroth reached across the counter and grabbed a large wooden spoon. Standing ready to stir the pasta noodles and avoid uneven, hard, or soggy textures.
See, there was a method of stirring to get it to heat to perfection. Stir clockwise, and scoop up every now and then. Then stir counter-clockwise and scoop up again, do the process a million times over until it's the right texture. Yes, Garroth could tell mostly by eyeball. And he was fairly certain it was almost done. Without either one of them realizing it, the crackling hum filled the air again. Garroth found himself mindlessly humming along.
Yeah, he definitely needed this. After having such a long day doing absolutely nothing, he needed this for his mind and sanity. Laurance’s general presence seemed to help more than he wanted to admit.
Now, if his hands shook while he stirred, he clearly wasn't focused on it. That was unimportant compared to how peaceful he felt.
“You know, the sound reminds me of that one vine…” Interrupted the voice on the other side of the phone.
Garroth stood, dumbfounded. He'd entirely stilled and tried to recall what vine he was possibly talking about. And of course, because it was Laurance that said it, he walked right into his trap. “Which one?”
He swore, he swore he could hear Laurance smile. “That's what good pussy sounds like.” And he erupted into laughter before even finishing his sentence properly.
And he laughed too, hard enough that he doubled over. Not because it was even that funny, but because Laurance was the one saying it- and he just seemed so happy about it, it was entirely silly.
The speaker flew to life again with a few coughs and inhales. Clearly, Laurance was trying to regain his composure. A loud slam sounded from his phone. Garroth’s laughter died down. “Laurance- Irene, that was loud! Are you alright?”
Another bout of laughter and coughing started up from Laurance. He could hear the microphone rubbing against something and making horrific noises. Probably a hand or sleeve, or something like that.
“I'm good, I'm good. Didn't realize I was so close to the edge of the bed, that's all.”
Garroth frowned. “You fell?”
Laurance only scoffed in response, mildly offended. “Yeah, I didn't break anything on me. Or around me. Seriously, I’m good.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, fair, he supposed. Laurance probably would’ve been more honest about it if he had gotten hurt. Safe to say he would not be truthful to anyone about getting hurt unless he was literally injected with truth serum.
For some reason, there was an odd scent.
Oh. Right. He quickly got up and turned his attention back to the pasta on the stove. He’d stopped his methodical stirring for a moment, only a moment. But he picked it up again, nothing looked uneven or gross, of course.
Yay, mission success!
It actually looked done. Or almost done. It smelled pretty cooked as well. He turned the dial until it clicked to the 'off' notch and moved the pot onto the counter. Quickly, he spun around and grabbed a bowl from the cabinets above him and a fork from the drawer to the right. With a clink, it landed in the bowl. The smell slowly floated to his nostrils. It was relaxing. Clearly, the food was homemade and a lot of love went into it.
Like, he knew that. But still. It showed, like there was effort. It was very obvious to him. Nothing was more comforting than his mom’s cooking, truth be told.
Except for the golden-orange sunlight that filtered in through the window, highlighting dust motes and other random things floating in the air slowly. Even the tiles looked majestic like this... Bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun from over the treetops. With a soothed sigh, Garroth traversed to sit on the couch.
In the distance, he’d heard a dull thud. It didn’t really click what it was. He was just worried about Laurance being carefully held in his hand, or more accurately, his phone. Yes, the one he was using to call his best friend. The small device emitting Laurance’s regular background noise sat next to him on the couch. Filling up the space where he wished his friend sat.
“Sooo,” Laurance cleared his throat, almost startling Garroth. “Did you get your food?”
Of course, he just had to ask that while he was chewing, he quickly swallowed the food to speak. “Yeah! No weird textures. You were right to suggest heating it on the stove. For some reason, I… didn’t think of it.” He coughed a little, the words rough on his throat. Supposedly, he didn’t have enough water today either.
Laurance’s easy chuckles started up again. The bastard was clearly smug about being right and getting ready to boast his victory. “Told you so. Hopefully, you can feel a little better after eating. I’m pretty sure that was-”
The doorknob turned. The young Ro’meave’s stomach dropped.
He frantically reached for his phone. “Umm, gotta go! I’ll message you before I sleep.”
He could only hope the panic didn’t seep into his voice, which was a useless hope, since his voice cracked a little and rose in pitch and volume. Laurance immediately combated and tried to question, but he just hung up.
Once again, his best friend couldn’t wait even a second. He basically bombarded his phone with questions. It buzzed and lit up constantly. Well, he didn’t mean to worry him, but he didn’t want to upset his dad or anything. So he figured no phone call, no distractions. He had to meet expectations.
With clenched fists, he inhaled and kept eating. Brows furrowed and staring at the blank TV screen. His hands still shook, if not even worse than before. But he was trying, trying to eat despite the nausea that overtook him and how hard it had become to swallow and chew.
Newly, eating was a manual process. Like he forgot how to do it and had to remind himself all over again, his brain frazzled and frozen.
His father’s voice called out from somewhere near the entryway: “Garroth? Are you out here?”