#shiropidge

Though even with the background cacophony of that week’s Top Ten mixing in with Pidge’s own mental rambling (her friends, schoolwork, college acceptance letters, finals, Shiro, Championship Game, Allura, AP exams, Shiro - her thoughts always ended up back to him even when he was right beside her), there was something in the air that was unignorable. 

And Pidge couldn’t quite name what it was. 

Not that she needed to; all she knew was that it wasn’t exactly heavy, but it still had a weight to it that perched on her shoulders just enough to make them droop just the tiniest bit. 

Just enough for Shiro to take notice from his peripheral vision, even with only the dashboard lights and passing street lamps as support. 

“Is there something on your mind?”

Katie nodded slightly. Swallowed. “Yeah,”

He gave no further prompting.

Yet she spilled out her thoughts anyway.

“I’m just thinking about how today could be one of our last hangouts as high-schoolers.” She shook her head. “We’re growing old.”

“Growing up,” Shiro corrected.

Katie shook her head again. “Growing old.” She toed off her shoes and sat Indian-style in the car seat. This put her left knee a little closer to the gear shift, but Shiro didn’t seem to mind. “Physically. Acquiring the responsibilities that come with age. Like student loans. And taxes.”

When she sent out her application to M.I.T., Pidge knew that even with her academic performance, just getting in alone would be hard, so what were the odds of her getting a scholarship too? 

And that was just for her top school; she still had three safeties to think about.

Ugh. 

“So what does that make growing up?” Shiro broke her train of thought.

“Morphing into a sourpuss with a stick up their ass.”