(Unedited)

"Good Afternoon," Christian replied as I shut my locker and saw his sandy blonde hair covered in faded purple streaks. Something the school disciplinary committee wouldn't appreciate when they learned of it later in the day. I wasn't going to tell him that, though. The looks from students he didn't see as they walked by would be enough to prove that he shouldn't have gone with the purple.

"The hair is neat," I observe, affirming what he had done was something I would never have dreamed of in my life. I was sure my parents would say it was against God's word. I stood there, jealous that he could present himself the way he had wanted. Something I was sure I wouldn't be able to do until after I graduated.

Rather than answering my statement, Christian replied, "They say give them something to talk about. I did," he said. "Someday, Luke, you'll do the same." He told me, picking up his messenger bag, as he stood ready to leave for his jeep. It had been the first time he'd called me by my first name. The name seemed foreign after hearing his nickname for me for so long.

Seeing that he had left without saying a word, I rushed to catch up with him; when I caught up with him, he looked back for a second and quickly started walking in the direction of his Jeep, leaving me wondering what I had done wrong.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, my hand on the passenger side door, unsure whether I wanted to get in. What if I had done something wrong? The thoughts accumulated in my mind as I stood there.

"No, Hemsworth, if you did something wrong, you'd know it," he tells me confidently as he slides himself into the jeep as he shows he's waiting for me to climb in as well. "Plus, there's someplace I want to show you," he adds as I finally slide into his Jeep, throwing my stuff in the back. Where was he taking me? I've learned not to ask him out loud, as the results would never be answered, but more of a mystery.

"I live with my Aunt Linda because I have nowhere else to go," Christian tells me as Selena Gomez sings how she's been a bad liar. The lyrics sting at my inside as the song keeps playing. My thoughts paced as to what to ask him. Had that been why he didn't want to answer where he was from?

"Is that?" I started to ask but stopped myself. Asking questions might prevent him from opening up whenever he was ready. So, I'll let him decide for himself. Maybe that was all he wanted to share, and that was okay with me. "Never mind. Don't answer that," I add as he keeps driving.

"You need to figure out what you want to know about me," Christian tells me with a slight edge to his voice. An advantage I hadn't heard before, something I wasn't familiar with coming from Christian. "I'm not Ted Bundy. I'm not taking you to murder you," his voice cracking as he tries turning this into one of his jokes.

"I'm sorry, alright. Tell me if you want," I told him reassuringly as I noticed that the jeep had stopped-my curiosity peaks as usual on one of our field trips. I have no idea where the hell we are. The area held up a rusty gated spot with various trees in the background, leading to who knew where.

"I tend not to pass along heartbreaking stories to others, Christian tells me as he climbs out of the jeep, heading towards a rusty gated area. "Are you coming?" He asks as he shuts the door behind him.

"Yeah," I tell him as I slide out, catching up to him where he stood, taking in the view. The leaves are starting to peek into their fall colours of reds, oranges and yellows. Summer held on with the humidity remaining in the air. "Is this another attempted science experiment?" I asked as we continued walking.

"Possibly. For now, let's keep walking around," Christian tells me as we walk right through the rusty gate, where others have created spots to get through, leaving evidence that no one has checked out the gate for a while.

I had completed all my curriculum as my parents had asked of me as a kid. In my earliest school years studying the Bible, I heard the words of the Lord until, at the age of eight, when reality set in, I became the gay child who could hide himself from the world. In middle school, I attended every game Dryden played; his baseball phase and his football games. Although I couldn't care less about sports, my parents made me go along as though I were a trophy as a way of showing support for Dryden.

Now that I am in my senior year and less than a year away from graduation, I'm still wondering if I have lived up to my parents' expectations enough and how much I would disappoint them if I revealed the facade I have been putting up since youth. Up until recently, I had followed their expectations correctly.

"Welcome to the Train Graveyard," I hear Christian greet proudly in his John Hammond voice as he breaks me from my thoughts. As I take in the view. Two earth-covered Locomotive steam engines sat several feet apart from each other. Both were abandoned years ago as history eventually took place around them as they sat rotting in a forest.

"Does anyone know what caused them to stop here?" I only asked a question I could think of asking. It was true, though. Had historical events led to people forgetting about them? I hadn't even heard about this place until now, as I continued looking in the direction of the trains.

"I don't think so. They'll rot here, unfortunately," Christian tells me as he tucks his arms under each other, then sighing as though something was bothering him as he heads in the direction of the trains. I followed as we both got close enough to touch the rotting locomotives as he untucked his hands to do so.

"Science and nature go hand in hand," I tell him as I walk over and stand beside him, taking out my phone, pressing the camera icon. He watches as he sees me doing so. When I take a picture of the trains, I turn my head in his direction to see him doing the same. It's then that I take a picture of Christian from his side as he takes photos of the trains. As I take the pictures, every angle in its vicious glory, the autumn colours blend the images.

"You're getting the hang of science," Christian tells me as he holds his phone up to me, clearly taking a picture of me, as I stick my tongue out, not knowing if he got the shot of it or not. "Good Hemsworth," he pats my head like a dog, then puts his phone away.

"How was the test today anyway?" I asked as we stood there a few feet apart from each other. I wanted to talk about something else besides science. We're used to hearing about it in class. A class I was sure I would get the hang of by the end of the semester.

"I passed," Christian tells me a little too happily. "Infinitesimal calculus isn't easy," he continues as he leans against a birch tree. This pose was meant for the yearbook senior photos. Without another thought, I took his photo just before he moved.

"I guess I'm not going to be that much of a problem," I blurted out as I remembered last night's text. The last thing he texted lingered in my head, as I hope I didn't embarrass myself further. Taking a mental note that I wasn't blushing this time.

"I never thought you were a problem. I just wanted to study," Christian tells me as he kicks at some leaves. The way he said it, though, seemed off, as I figured something was wrong, though as usual, I doubted he'd want to talk about it. Christian rarely ever talked about the past, and I was sure he had planned to keep it that way, the few sentences from today being an exception.

"You can tell me whatever is on your mind," I tell him. I found it a little hypocritical of me to say under the circumstances, as I remain hidden in the shadows of my life. It looked like he was having fun exploring the secret trains with me a moment ago. Now, this wasn't the Christian Day I remembered before that.

"I'm fine. We should head back," Christian tells me as he starts walking towards the trail we had used to come in, leaving me to stay behind a few seconds to take in the view a few more seconds before heading to catch up with him.

"That place was beautiful!" I remark as we reach the jeep. "You find all the abandoned places around here. I've lived here my whole life," I tell him, like a kid who has just discovered the hidden paths to the city. Something I doubted even Dryden knew, something I was getting used to with Christian.

"My dad and I," Christian begins, then suddenly halts as if he had stopped bringing up painful memories. I wonder how much he wanted to exclude not to share the details. Finally, he resumes, "We used to travel quite a bit. Maybe we went to Ember when I was a kid, who knows. Whatever we did, we always used the back roads regardless of where they led," he finished-not providing me with any other information.

"I'm guessing that's how you found this place and why you take so many photos," I tell him as he starts the jeep up, turning down the radio's volume, before shifting into Drive.

"Yes, and no. I won't tell you which one is which," Christian tells me before driving onto the main road. I still wonder which one was which, though I don't admit it to him; though I did have an idea as to which one was the yes and the no. After spending three weeks together, I was happy to know this much about Christian, knowing soon I'd have to start telling him a thing or two about myself.

I don't care how he tells me; it's his choice, no matter what he says. Christian and I both know he did things at his own pace despite not sharing it with me. I observe the scenery pass outside my window without even paying attention.

"I took some photos. I might use them for studying tonight," I say with some confidence we both know I won't. I will leave them on my phone until my phone asks me whether or not to put them on my drive. Or maybe I would attempt to use them for the sketchbook I needed for art class anyways.

"I noticed. However, you don't want to use the word might for homework," Christian tells me as a father would say to a child who didn't know the difference between discipline. "It brings up doubt," he adds confidently, bringing back the Christian that I remember, not the opposite from before he mentioned the memories.

"I'm not sure it works that way," I tell him as I was sure he'd bring up another snarky remark from inside the head of Christian. It was Christian; it was what he did. It was also now something I was used to hearing and expecting.

"Sure it does. Might and doubt are the same words. One sounds fancier," Christian answers back. If he could send an emoji right now, I was sure he would in a millisecond, or at least Christian. "Plus, you witnessed history today for free," he adds, once again smiling that Christian smile.

"Alright, fine, you win," I tell him as I throw my hands up in surrender, resulting in me hitting the roof of his jeep as he starts to laugh at the slight pain in my knuckles. Dryden wouldn't have played along as I hit my knuckles. He would've had some stupid remark, then told me to get out of the car and then possibly go back to talking about football.

"I knew it. How quickly you surrender," Christian teases as he sees my defeat, now cradling my false injury in my hand, even though the pain didn't last, and I should have let go by now, but I don't.

"I didn't surrender. Your roof and I made contact," I tell him as I finally decide to let go of my false injury. "Now I'm going to kindly get out of your jeep," I state as he parks at the end of my driveway. Instead, I take a minute longer. I was in no rush to get in the house and receive an interrogation from my parents.

"Whatever you say, Hemsworth," Christian tells me as I finally slide outside of the jeep.-standing there on the lawn as I wait for him to drive away. Something that had become routine in the few weeks that I've known him. Instead of him texting me first, I pick up my phone and send him a text first. Instead of words, I sent him the photo I took of him, then turned my phone off.

On entering the house, I reach for a nectarine from the bowl in the kitchen. My mother took a walk outside, and my father watched CNN. I don't know if he asked something about me or the television.

"Do you have any homework tonight?" I hear my father as he asks again. I want to tell him no, even though I would do said homework. There are many things I want to say to him, but I know it wouldn't get me anywhere. "You'll need higher grades so you can graduate," he tells me, as though I hadn't already known this.

"I know, dad," I tell out of prosperity. Then I had a second notion of telling him something that crossed my mind "I'm going with a friend tomorrow," I tell him, even though I didn't get an answer back as I was hoping.

Christian:
You and I take good photos

The text message from Christian popped up as I turned on my phone the moment I stepped into my room.

Me:
We should take more.

Tomorrow 🌆

I texted back, waiting for a response, as I opened my history book and started to take notes for class. Something I was confident my parents would be proud of. I was glad about attempting to do homework.

Christian:
Sure. Just bring 🍕 and I'm down.😉

I replied to him. Instead of going back to homework, I texted Dryden for a ride to school tomorrow morning. Then went back to doing homework.