Nia's car horn honks in front of Patrick's house.

"HURRY UP!" she yells, a laugh present in her projected voice. Patrick rolls his eyes at the girl, a laugh escaping from him as he stuffs his keys in his jacket pocket on his way out the door. Patrick forces his legs to take larger steps to hurry to Nia's vehicle.

"God, you're slow," Nia laughs as Patrick claims the passenger seat.
"You're the one to talk," the boy scoffs as he straps on his seat belt. Nia propels her car forward, venturing towards her list of errands to complete. She had called Patrick, requesting that he joins her. She also promised him food, which was the winning ticket for a young adult with a crazy metabolism.

"Lunch is on me. Remember that," the girl teases.

The couple always paired up when either one had a long list of errands. It made everything bearable and more fun. It had always been like this even before they came to terms with their feelings for each other.

"What's on the list?" Patrick asks, his voice slightly elevated over the wind that blows through the open windows. He drums his fingers on the dashboard along to a Green Day song that plays on the radio. He even catches himself humming along to parts of the verse.

"I'm getting interviewed at the observatory," she says. "So, I gotta pick out a new outfit because I just realized all my interview clothes are either so 80s or they don't fit at all."
"So, the mall is in our route," Patrick notes. "What else?"
"Space Day is happening at the library," the girl continues. "Gotta get crafts for the kids."
"Any ideas?"
"Not a single one," Nia huffs. She glances at Patrick with a slight frown tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Craft store is a must! I'll help," Patrick volunteers. "Anything else?"
"Wendy's?" Nia asks, giving Patrick another glance— this one being a suggestion based on his own preferences rather than her duties.
"I could kill for a frosty," the boy exaggerates.

Nia smiles and gives a short nod, taking note to stop at a nearby Wendy's to fulfill her promise. Patrick watches Nia, his heart performing somersaults within his ribs. Her brown, wavy locks are twisted up into a careless bun. A few strands remain loose, swaying in the wind and catching sunlight. Patrick smiles at the beautiful image beside him.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in years," Nia chuckles. It's enough to snap Patrick out of his daze.
"Yeah, you've been working a lot of hours," Patrick protests. "You owe me a date."
"I owe you nothing but a meal from Wendy's, Ghost Boy," she laughs. "But a date would be nice."
"When's the last time you went to the lake?" the boy asks. "We can go there."
"Sounds like a plan," Nia smiles.

As the afternoon develops, more and more tasks are completed, being eliminated from Nia's list of things to do. Patrick had already put in his favorite David Bowie CD in the CD player of Nia's car. Ever since they became such great friends, they always kept a copy of at least two of each other's favorite albums.

"I still can't believe you think that Thriller is Michael Jackson's best album," Nia scoffs. "You're such a fake fan."
"I'm a fake fan?" Patrick stresses, feigning offense.
"Yes, you are," Nia argues. "It's obviously Dangerous! However, I will accept Bad. Thriller is so overrated!"
"Everyone loves at least one overrated album. Like you with every hit song on the radio," the blonde argues with a smile.
"They are hit songs for a reason, Buster!"

Patrick opens his mouth to continue the banter, but is interrupted by Nia's phone ringing. He takes the phone out of what would've been an ashtray in her car and reads the caller ID.

"It's the library," Patrick informs. "Did you have to go to work today?"
"No, I'm not scheduled for weekends," Nia replies. She furrows her brow and glances at the ringing phone. "Put it on speaker for me."

Patrick flips the phone open and presses the speaker button.

"Hello?" Nia answers.
"Hey, Nia," a voice cheers quietly, almost in a whisper. Patrick watches Nia's face, finding out that she is familiar with the voice.
"Hey, Vanessa," she smiles. Patrick recalls hearing the name but can't remember if Vanessa was a co-worker or her boss.
"You don't come in today, huh?" Vanessa asks.
"No, I'm not scheduled for today," the violet-eyed girl says. "Need an extra hand?"
"Actually, no, we're okay here," the woman says, a smile present in her soft voice. "I just wanted to let you know that you have a letter here. It looks pretty important and I thought that you'd might want to pick it up."
"Yeah, thank you!" Nia chirps. "I got the art supplies for Space Day, too, so I'll drop that off."
"Perfect! I'll see you soon."

After they exchange farewells, the other line hangs up.

"I hope you don't mind," Nia says to Patrick, an apologetic smile claiming her features. Patrick shakes his head as he puts her phone away.

"You're the captain," Patrick says. "I'm just the assistant for the day."
"Thanks, sweetie," Nia says. "You're the best assistant ever!"
"Anything for you, darling," Patrick smiles. He takes her free hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Look at us! We're disgusting!" Nia laughs. "I'll stop by Wendy's on the way back from the library, Buster."
"Fine by me," the boy says with a chuckle.

Within fifteen minutes, Nia parks her car in front of the local library she works in. Patrick agrees to staying in the car to wait for Nia, the girl promising "it'll only be a few seconds." She takes the art supply bags with her and disappears into the building.

A few seconds pass just as quickly as Patrick had expected them to. He doesn't hold it against Nia. Maybe her boss has something else for her, the boy thinks to himself. He turns the dial a little to raise the volume of the pop station that plays on her radio. The godawful ad for Kars for Kids rings through the speakers. Patrick has heard it enough times to block it out of his conscience state.

A few minutes pass. Patrick can feel his mind wanting to race but he brushes it off. It's important, he thinks to himself. If it's so important why didn't she tell me anything of it?

Patrick fishes his phone out of his pocket and starts to play a few rounds of Tetris to distract himself from his pending anxiety. Just when he thought he could stand a chance with the first level he never defeated, he sees a figure escape the building from the corner of his eye.

He looks up, seeing Nia making her way to the car, her demeanor abnormal and stiff. Patrick closes his phone as Nia gets in her seat, slamming the door beside her. The impact makes the car rattle a little to accompany the loud collision.

"The hell—"
"Shut up," she croaks, her broken voice still sounding as hard as jagged stones. Patrick studies the girl, taking in her features in full for the first time. Her eyes are red and puffy, her nose matching her irritated eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong—"
"I said, shut up," she snarls. Patrick finally obeys to the bitter snap; he sinks into the corduroy seat, forcing himself not to investigate on why Nia looks distressed. Nia aggressively turns the key in the ignition as she snaps her seat belt on. She turns the radio off and continues down the road with a heavy silence.

Patrick picks at his fingers nervously, occasionally glancing over at Nia. The girl blinks back swollen tears now and again, often sniffling. Her eyes stay fixated on the road, as if on a mission. Patrick tries to read the expression painted on her face, but it's something he has never seen before. He can't decode it. It frustrates him, but he knows he can't do anything about it. Nia would just snap at him again.

"You don't look okay," Patrick dares to say, his voice gentle and low. Nia doesn't look at him. "Let me drive--"
"Shut up," she repeats, cutting him off once again.
"Nia, what the hell is going on?" the blonde boy asks. "You were fine just a moment ago. After you left the library, you've been..." Patrick trails off, trying to find the right word to describe her actions.

"I've been what?" Nia growls. She stops at a red traffic light and turns to Patrick for the first time since they left her job. Patrick's eyes widen a little with fear at her rising aggression. "Go on! Say it! I've been what?!"
"You've been acting like a dick!" Patrick exclaims. Silence falls between the two. The light changes. Patrick blows a huff of air as he leans back into the chair again.

"Light's green," he informs within a mumble. Nia turns her attention towards the road again and continues driving. Patrick suffices with locking his gaze out of the window beside him, watching the city roll behind them and develop into the suburbs they've always known.

Along the way, Patrick spots the promised fast food chain, but decides against reminding Nia. He doesn't want to fight over something as useless as a chicken nugget meal.

Nia stops the car once again. This time, they are in front of Patrick's house. Patrick studies the driveway, finding his mother's car absent.

"Nia," Patrick sighs. "Just tell me what's going on."
"Get out," Nia demands.
"I want to make this better but you're not helping me--"
"--I said, get out!"
"No!" Patrick yells back. "I'm not going to leave you like this! I don't know what the fuck your problem is, but I want to fix it!"
"It's not yours to fix!"
"It is! It's my job to make sure you are okay! And if you're not okay, it's my job to fix that!"
"Just get out of my damn car! You can start "fixing it" by doing that!" Nia yells back, adding air quotations soaked in venom.

Patrick studies the girl, seeing a new glint in her violet eyes. It's one he can't read.

"Fine," he growls. Patrick unfastens his seat belt and makes his way out of the car. He slams the door behind him and storms to his front door, entering the house and slamming that barrier behind him. He blows a frustrated sigh and leans against the wooden door, the end of their day replaying in his head. His chest feels like a sack of broken glass with each breath that enters and escapes him. His throat tightens around a lump, little by little.

"This is bullshit," Patrick mumbles to himself. The boy thrusts himself away from the door. Just as he steps away from the closed portal, a fist bangs on the door in multiple raps. Patrick pivots and opens the door, feelings of anger, hurt, and confusion boiling in him.

A girl with brown, wavy hair stands before him. Her violet eyes are red and irritated, matching her nose. Heavy tears cascade down her flushed face as she presses her lips into a fine line, failing to stop the liquid of the emotion Patrick could not translate.

He opens his mouth to ask about the situation, but is interrupted by the girl thrusting a paper in front of him. At first, he scans it, unsure about how it is useful. Then, he reads it. Every word strikes him with a new wave of emotion. A specific collection of words could have easily knocked the air out of his lungs. For some reason, it makes his heart shatter at his feet. He hated the shards of his heart, but he somehow hated the words even more.

Congratulations! You have been selected to intern for National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) in our California location.

A/N:
ooooh... wow I just realized this hit 1.1k pretty fast. Also... this is going to be the start of something very very interesting!

What do you think will happen? What do you think of this chapter? ;)
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