^ The waterfalls ^ 

The path to the waterfalls was uneven with protruding tree roots and mud that was damp from the previous night's rainfall. Andy and Frankie walked side by side unless the path wasn't wide enough, watching their feet, Andy more cautious than the teenager who had been there many times before. 

For much of it, they didn't share words, though it wasn't awkward. Andy was content with the new environment he was being welcomed into and Frankie was overjoyed to be in the man's company. 

As they neared the top, where there was an area to stand and view the waterfall, and a metal fence that people fastened padlocks onto with their initials carved into, Andy said, "Is it always this busy up here?" It wasn't bustling with people as the city might have been, but they passed others regularly, and as the top came into view, they could see groups stood around, some sitting at the picnic bench with packets of crisps. 

For a moment, Frankie was surprised at the way Andy's voice sounded. He remembered hearing him the first time they met, but had since forgotten the deepness of it. "Oh, only in the holidays," he answered. "In the winter, unless it's Christmas holidays, no one's ever here. Too cold and rainy most days." 

Andy hummed, paying close attention to each step he took. The steps they were climbing were all different heights and some were at angles, not to mention they were slippery with water "You come up here a lot?" 

Frankie nodded. "Most days, unless it's tipping it down." 

"Tipping it down?" Andy repeated. "What's that?" 

"Oh, right. It just means, like, really heavy rain." 

Andy hummed again. "God, your language is weird," he said with a short laugh. "Tipping it down. I'll have to remember that." They reached the final step and walked out onto the open area where the waterfall was in full view. Andy went right up to the fence with the padlocks and put both his hands on it, leaned over to get a better look. "This is gorgeous." 

Frankie joined him. It was a wonderful experience, watching someone become entranced by the world he had grown up in. He had become so used to it that he'd forgotten how special it was. "It is," he agreed. "I love it." 

Andy was smiling. He turned away from the crashing water to look at Frankie. "Thank you for showing me. It's really gorgeous." His attention caught a padlock near his left hand. "Now, see, this," he said, "I can't stand. Useless thing to do, and a waste of all these padlocks."

"My dad cuts them off sometimes." 

"I don't blame him." He turned towards the water again. "God, look at it. It's wild. I live ten minutes away from this. Fucking wild. Sorry, shouldn't swear around kids." 

"I'm seventeen."

"Ah, well, I suppose that's alright then. I was doing worse than swearing at seventeen." 

"Such as?" Frankie asked. 

Andy raised an eyebrow, looking at him. "Wouldn't you like to know," he teased, then, pointing towards a path going horizontally right, "What's that way?" 

"It's one of the ways down. Takes you through a gate and onto the road." 

A child who was stood on the bottom rung of the fence nearby leaned over and Andy reached for him, gently pushed him off before he fell. "Better not, kid," he said. "Pretty view but not worth drowning for." 

The child stared up at him and his mother rushed over, grabbed his hand. "Thank you," she said to Andy, relief in her voice. "Come on, Emilio, we're having sandwiches now." Looking at Andy, she sad, "Thanks again, and sorry." 

"No bother at all." He smiled. "Enjoy your sandwiches." The boy and his mother left for the picnic bench which a group had just gotten up from, and Andy said to Frankie, "God, I fucking hate kids." Then he laughed. "Poor guy's gonna be scared of waterfalls for the rest of his life now." 

"There's no way you hate kids." 

"Believe me, I'm not a fan." 

"Really?" 

"Oh, God, no, I can't be fucked with them. Don't get me wrong, I think they're cute as shit, but imagine all the daily panics of being a parent. I couldn't do it." He stepped away from the railings. "You said that's the way down?" 

"Yeah." 

"Does it go all the way into town?" 

"Yeah." 

"Perfect. You hungry?" He glanced back at the teenager as he begun along the path through sunflowers and tall oak trees. 

Catching him up, Frankie shrugged. 

"Well," Andy said. "I am. There must be some good cafes here." 

"Yes. Lots." 

"Lead the way, tour guide." He slowed to let Frankie ahead of him and followed him through the gate and down the road. "So, tipping it down is when there's heavy rain. Anything else I should know?" 

"There's a lot. Uh, we tend to call lunch dinner, and dinner is tea. But tea is also tea, if that makes sense. And quid means pounds. So five quid is five pounds." 

"Quid. Right." 

"But you don't say quid if it's, like, two pound fifty. It's not two quid fifty. Don't say that or they'll probably laugh at you." 

"Gotcha." 

"You'll hear a lot depending on where you are." 

"Culture shock is real," Andy said. "I couldn't relax the whole drive here from the airport because we were on the wrong side of the road."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Must be weird." 

"So weird. I kept wanting to tell the driver to move over, but then I was like, no, Andy, this isn't America anymore. You're in England now, you dumbfuck." 

Frankie laughed. "Dumbfuck," he said. "I like that." 

"Your dad might not." 

"My dad swears constantly." 

"You never know with people. Some are really uptight about it, you know, and I have to remind myself not to swear in their company or they get pissed with me."

"How does anyone who's friends with a rock singer not swear?" 

Andy chuckled. They were nearing the main road on the edge of town. "Well, not everyone is my friend, believe it or not." 

"I don't believe it. I'd want to be your friend. You're wicked." 

"Wicked means cool, I assume." 

"Yep." 

"Not evil." 

"Nope." 

"I've been called evil enough times, anyway." 

"Really?" 

"Oh yes." 

"Well, I don't think you're evil." 

He chuckled again. "You might when I try and teach you how to scream." 

"You can scream?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"I think I love you." 

"Why, thank you." 

"Can you adopt me?" 

Andy laughed loudly. Frankie led him down the pavement towards a cafe called 'The Copper Pot.' "No," he answered. "I hate kids, remember." 

Shaking his head, amused, Frankie stepped into the cafe. The two found a table in the garden out the back. 

"Go crazy," Andy told him. "It's on me. I won't adopt you but I will absolutely spoil you when your dad isn't watching." He opened the menu between them. "You're gonna have to translate half of this British bullshit to me."