SKY

visibly annoyed, you roll your eyes at the tantrum he was throwing. before you had even dated him you laid down all possible icks, including your best friend. you told him how your relationship with said best friend was non-negotiable due to the significance he held in your life before miles. before miles, he was the one who you cried to, who you confined in about your family, your feelings, your insecurities. though after getting with miles you weren’t as close with him, he was still your best friend.

“miles give me my shit, don’t piss me off.”

“why? what you hiding? ain’t no way you not messing with him.”

in the stillness of his room, your phone rapidly vibrates inside your bag, miles interest immediately piqued when his fingers curve around the device, the name “dante <3” flashing on the screen.

he laughs to himself, but you knew better than to think it was a laugh of amusement. the manner of his laugh was deeply provoked, a telltale sign that it had an underlying meaning. he sends you a hard look, “so we adding hearts now too? bet.” he says while answering the facetime call.

“y/n?” dante calls out to you, the camera panned toward the ceiling, his ruffled locs in frame.

“nah she busy right now homeboy, what you want?”

“uh okay? can you ask her if she can retwist my hair this sunday?”

“nah.” he blatantly answers.

“huh?”

“dante hang up!” you call out from behind miles, to which he sends you another glare. before dante can respond miles hangs up, turning his whole body to face you. “so wassup?”

“miles give me my phone.”

“your phone? ma this our phone.” you roll your eyes once more and quickly snatch your phone from his grasp, shoving it into the tote bag and slipping your black crocs on. “don’t text my phone either.” you yell on your way out slamming his room door, silently praying that mama rio wasn’t home.

it was getting more and more difficult to manage the pit that sat in your bosom from the fight you had with your boyfriend earlier. you were used to talking to him in your dimly lit room around this time, your hands playing with the loose coils at the back of his head while saying cheesy things to each other, exchanging light pecks and subtle touches.

you groan loudly, tired of sulking to yourself you decide to get up from your bed, do your makeup and take pictures. you sit at your vanity, shuffling your playlist while opening up your makeup bag.

about 20 minutes into your routine, you hear incoherent voices coming from just outside your door. you tip toe towards the door, peaking your head out to see miles, helping your mom set the dinner table while engaging in small talk. “yeah, basketball’s good.” he says, smiling at her with all 32 pearly whites.

“y/n’s upstairs, ill call you guys down when dinners ready.” she smiles, coaxing him towards your room. you quietly shut the door, scrambling towards your vanity table, acting as if you had not witnessed the scene that took place just outside your door mere seconds ago.

you hear him quietly enter and creep up behind you, the mirror capturing his movements. you line your lips, ignoring your lovers presence even when he wraps his arms around your torso and repeatedly kisses your face.

“who you looking all fine for?”

you greet him with nothing but silence, putting your manicured finger over his lips which he attempts to bite.

“oh so it’s like that?”

“yeah, it’s like that, and I didn’t invite you over. go home.” you get up from your position, walking towards the door that he left open, closing it.

“what i told you ‘bout that mouth? you got all sorts of attitude today.” he argues, trailing behind you.

you scoff while crossing your arms, turning around and mean mugging him. you watch as he takes a moment and backs up, giving you a once over. the argument that had him so worked up earlier dissipated into thin air, his focus now on the biker shorts that hugged you a little too tight, and the cropped cami that hung a little too loosely. you watch a ghost of a smile adorn his lips.

“nasty ass.” you snap him out of his thoughts.

he snorts, taking a seat on your bed and pulling you in between his legs. “you still mad at me?” he questions you, raising his brows.

“it’s not gonna magically go away miles, you didn’t even try to apologize, showing up at my house at 8:00 kissing me and shit isn’t gonna fix anything.” it was the truth, and you weren’t backing down from it. you wanted an apology, you weren’t willing to go any further with him till you got said apology, you couldn’t push this to the side.

“y/n, baby, you know i love you but im not fucking with the way you making it look like im wrong for feeling the way i feel.” miles argued.

“because you are wrong! i told you about him before we even got together, you can’t expect me to drop him in 2 seconds just because you asked, he’s my best friend!” you argue back, keeping your voice down cautiously due to your nosy family on the other side of the door.

“no ma, im your best friend, you for my eyes only.”

“if you came here to argue with me you should just go.”

“we don’t sleep mad at eachother, we fixing this right now.” he says, dragging you into a straddling position atop him, his arms momentarily wrapping around your waist. your eyes dart around your room, refusing to make eye contact in fear of folding immediately.

“i just want you to put it this way, you got this fine ass girl, right? but then she got this ugly ass—“

“miles.” you warn him.

“… she got this boy best friend that she always on the phone with, always going out with, and she always wanna see him when you’re right there. she always talking about him, texting him when with you, answering his calls.” for the first time in a while you realize how off that sounds, maybe you had been the wrong one, though your stubborn nature made it hard to admit it.

he begins to speak again, “im not asking you to cut him off, im asking you to minimize how much you talk to him—im a guy and i know how we think. you might think y’all homeboys but he plotting on you, just think of it like that baby.” he finished while rubbing the skin of your thighs in slow tender circles.

“im sorry.” you quietly murmur under your breath into his shoulder. just barely loud enough so he can hear. but no, he had to hear this, you admitting you made a mistake.

he taps your thigh, “speak up, cant hear you.”

“you heard me, don’t be annoying.” you said when you realized his true intent, embarrassed by how you had previously acted.

miles snickered to himself, “ma?”

“yeah?”

“my fault for getting loud with you earlier, i didn’t mean to do all that.” he admitted, kissing your shoulder blade.

you remove your head from the crevice between his neck and shoulder, repeatedly giving him big smooches on the lips in acceptance of his apology which he gladly returns.

the moment is ruined by knocking on the door. you scramble off his lap which ultimately ends with you landing on the floor with a thud. snickers come from your bed, a deadpan expression immediately sweeping over your features.

“hope y’all not in there being nasty.” your mother calls out, “get decent and come downstairs to eat.”

mothers were always thought to have an intuition when it came to their children—some sort of sixth sense. the science behind it? well, there is none. none that’s been proven, anyway. that doesn’t stop some mothers from swearing that their second sight was legit. your mom was one of them, constantly giving her unwarranted two cents about people in your life who seemed harmless to you.

you felt blessed to have the mother you did. she was your best friend and your biggest cheerleader. she brought you up to be the girl you are today. without her, you didn't know who you'd be. not having a huge group of friends to be around 24/7 didn't really bother you as much as it would have if you didn't have her.

you’ve never felt like you needed to hide anything from your mom, but you did keep your crush on miles a secret for a hot minute. you'd never liked someone the way you liked him. you were shocked to discover that he like you too. when miles was ready to make things official, you knew you couldn't hide him from your mom anymore, so you didn't. she met him one saturday morning over breakfast, and to your surprise, she liked him. you were shocked she didn’t have anything condemnatory to say about your boyfriend, not because there was anything wrong with miles, but because your mom is overprotective of you.

growing up, you hadn’t always been the most sociable kid. all of the friends you had now found you and so did miles. that being said, your mom worried that people would take advantage of your built-in hospitality and youf kind heart. she watched out for certain things when you'd describe your interactions with people, then told you to watch out as well. although her overprotectiveness could be irritating more often than not, your mom had definitely helped you avoid trouble here and there.

growing up meant change. you weren't the biggest fan of change because of the risk that came with it. you had always preferred to stick to what you know—until this year. your fourth and final year of high school had you wanting to break out of your shell. the same few friends wouldn’t be there to keep you company when you graduate and go to different colleges, or hold your hand for the rest of your life. neither would your beloved mother. you had to hold your own hand.

you weren't sure how you were going to make friends, and you were too ashamed to ask anyone how to do so. thankfully, you didn't have to do much, because the friends you made came to you.

it started with a group chat with the five girls you had calculus with this year: tiesha, taraji, yanira, and adana. tiesha had created the chain so you all could send homework answers and test reviews back and forth. math was never your strong suit, so cheating was really the only reason you were passing. brief conversations about homework and how much you all hated the class turned into full blown conversations about boys and tv shows. minor comments about something annoying that someone did in class turned into major gossip sessions. you couldn't remember the last time you went a whole day without talking to those girls, whether it was one text message or twenty.

your mom told you she was excited that you had expanded your circle, but you could tell by the way her smile had slightly faltered that she was indeed irresolute. you knew you’d never understand her intuitive claims unless you had children of your own, and even then, you’d still doubt the phenomenon’s validity. it was just your nature to question everything.

presently, you were at a food court in the mall, sitting by yourself at one of the tables. every now and then, you’d glance up from your phone and see a group of friends or a couple pass by you.

you were supposed to hang out with yanira, taraji, adana, and tiesha, but it was almost one and none of them had showed up to the spot in the mall where you agreed to meet. every call you made went straight to voicemail. frustrated, you opened instagram to see if any of the girls were active. you raised a brow when you noticed the multicolored spiral around yanira’s profile picture at the top of your dash where stories were located. you tapped it just to be confronted with a boomerang of yanira, tiesha, adana, and taraji posing in a dressing room mirror. your eyes bored into the screen for a few seconds before you swiped out of instagram, treachery bubbling in your stomach. you released an exasperated sigh.

your mom was right. once again.

you glanced at a nearby tv on one of the walls in the food court and saw a picture of spider-man. you read the captions as they glided across the bottom of the screen, the clip of the hero fighting off a villain playing simultaneously. the news reporter narrated the highlights of the brawl and another one followed up his narration by concluding that spider-man had once again saved the city.

you smiled to yourself like a proud mother, then you thought about miles, not spider-man. you hadn’t talked to your boyfriend since the night before. as if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed against the table and lit up.

3 text messages @ 12:42pm

miles: hey, pretty girl (12:42pm)  miles: i couldn’t text you this morning, i’m sorry (12:42pm)  miles: villain of the week decided to get up early today (12:42pm)

so did you, but for different reasons. reasons that no longer mattered. you didn't even know why you were still sitting in that food court. you should've been en route to the train station by now. you felt so damn stupid.

you: that’s okay (12:43pm)

miles: are you okay? (12:43pm) miles: yk i’d never purposely ignore you, right? (12:43pm)

you: yeah, i know (12:44pm) you: it’s not you (12:44pm)  you: i’m at the mall rn bc i was supposed to meet some friends here, but they never showed. nb wanted to answer the phone either (12:44pm) you: i checked instagram n it turns out they’re all here (12:45pm) you: just without me (12:45pm) you: sooo now i have to do the walk of shame back to the subway station (12:45pm)

miles: that’s so messed up, i’m really sorry (12:46pm)  miles: did anything happen with them before this? (12:46pm)

you: no (12:46pm)  you: i mean if it did then idk anything about it (12:47pm)  you: my ma warned me about those girls. i should’ve listened 🤦‍♀️ (12:47pm)

miles: i got an idea. are you free now? (12:47pm)

you: i am 🤨 (12:48pm)

miles: take the subway to mine (12:48pm)  miles: i have a surprise ❤️ (12:48pm)

you: i gtg grab smth from my place b4 that (12:49pm) you: but i’ll be there :) (12:49pm)

miles loved a message @ 12:50pm

you didn’t even realize the smile that had crept up on your face until it was almost ear to ear and a few seconds away from making your cheeks ache. you quickly stood up from your chair, the legs howling loudly as they scraped against the tile. you winced at the noise and picked the chair up to move it instead of pushing it in. afterwards, you began walking to the exit closest to the subway station. your pace slowed when you saw your “friends” in front of you. they hadn’t noticed you yet. you hoped they wouldn't. they were walking in a horizontal line, laughing and carrying bags on their arms from different stores. you thought it made them look like they belonged in mean girls, or some coming-of-age disney movie with a clique of popular girls who manage to be both unnecessarily cruel and loved by everyone for antsgonists.

when the group of teens finally spotted you, they briefly side-eyed one another before looking back at you, fake smiles gracing their lips almost immediately after.

did they think you were stupid, blind, or both?

“[name]!” adana called out to you when you were only a few feet apart. she dragged out the last part of your name too. you saw it for what it was: an obvious and weak effort to sound genuine. adana picked up her pace so she got to you faster than the other girls. “we thought you weren’t coming, girl!”

you remained tranquil, though you could see everyone else behind adana snickering and exchanging looks. your kept your face relatively blank, not wanting to show the girls before you even the slightest bit of chagrin. they’d get a kick out of it and your outburst would be the topic of their conversations for weeks to come. high school was truly exhausting.

“i mean, i got here at twelve like we agreed,” you shrugged. “i called you guys too. i guess your phones were off.”

“yeah, they were,” taraji chimed in, showing you the 'do not disturb' icon on her phone. you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her fraudulent tone.

you almost couldn’t believe that this was a real situation that you were somehow caught in the middle of. tiesha pouted, the friction between her lips causing her already-faded pink and brown lip combo to fade some more. you knew she was mocking you, but you only wanted to smile when you thought about the shiny gloss that was neatly slathered on your lips, much unlike hers.

“are you okay? have you been here by yourself this whole time?” tiesha interrogated. it felt more like instigating.

“i mean, yeah,” your eyes darted around nervously. lipgloss honestly wasn’t a big deal anyway, tiesha probably had more in her bag. your confidence boost was short-lived and had diminished. you were never the type to thrive off someone's disadvantage. either way, you could act. “but it didn’t really bother me ‘cause i was texting my boyfriend and we—”

“boyfriend?” adana laughed mockingly like it was unbelievable. like it was impossible. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“what? i’ve told you guys this,” you frowned, your voice wavering to a degree.

you stared at the four girls with an eyebrow cocked up while they turned to each other and shook their heads, a few whispers floated in the air and into your ears. you had spoken about miles to these girls before, you were positive. he was never a secret, you just weren’t someone who posted online a lot. in fact, you only had instagram because your mom made you sign up. you’d never posted once. either way, it’s your relationship. you didn’t want everyone in your business, that’s where mess was rooted. that's how problems started.

what mess the unforeseen treatment you were receiving was rooted in? that was a mystery to you. you didn’t understand how the girls who were supposed to be your friends could switch up on you at the speed of light. there hadn’t been any fights or arguments between any of you—to your knowledge, at least.

you’ve always preached that there are two sides to every story, but you also preached communication. you all were cool last night while confirming today’s plans, now suddenly they know nothing about you?

nobody questioned you about miles. instead, yanira broke the silence that you’d spent lost in your thoughts, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable situation you were in with purely scraps. “well, good thing we found you now.” she pursed her lips afterwards, clearly stifling a laugh.

words couldn’t describe how stupid and naive you felt. they were trying to play you in your face and thought you were oblivious to it. you were starting to think so too. maybe they’d been playing in your face this entire time. maybe they’ve been acting for the duration of your friendship. maybe there were signs this entire time and you didn’t notice until now. maybe the idea of meeting new people thrilled you too much, and they took advantage of that when they realized it.

you weren’t lashing out over everything going on in the name of “staying calm.” you couldn’t grant anyone the satisfaction of knowing they struck a nerve, and bad. you were just as committed to keeping up with your act as they were to theirs, and nothing was going to make you let up.

“we were just about to grab some food,” tiesha added after yanira, smiling ever so innocently, as if she was oblivious to the treatment you were receiving. tiesha was the one you were the closest with, so that hurt. stung even.

“thanks, but i have other plans,” you faked a smile and made sure to look each one of your “friends” dead in each of their glowering, dull eyes.

adana’s face contorted in slight indignation. “how could you have plans? were you only gonna hang with us for an hour?”

“i was heading out before i ran into you guys,” you smiled and shrugged, checking the time on your phone. “gotta go now or i’ll miss the train. i’ll see you guys at school on monday.”

those insolent girls gave you the stink eye as deviated away. a few steps farther from fakery and you could already hear the whispers and the murmurs, even if the mall was loud. they sounded more like hisses the farther away you got, until they blended into the many, many sounds of your local mall. you were thankful to be free from that conversation—if you could even call it that.

your next chat oughta be a real one. though you hated it, confrontation was just around the corner.

❤︎₊ ⊹

“and then they acted like absolutely nothing was wrong… tiesha too!”

you were seated on one end of the couch in miles’ apartment, your legs crossed and resting on top of his thighs and a pillow between the arm of the couch and your back. miles hadn’t told you what the surprise was yet, and quite frankly, it had slipped your mind entirely. you were never good when it came to keeping your emotions in check. the fury boiling and seething inside you was so immense that you couldn’t give anything but what happened at the mall even half of a thought even if you wanted to. miles was steadily running his hand up and down the bottom half of one of your legs because he knew it’d help you calm you down. it was something he did by default while you were ranting, because when you were upset over something, you could go on for hours.

miles was a teen girl’s diary that could talk back. you had been on a twenty-minute tangent about what transpired at the mall, making sure to include even the most minor details that other people would view as futile. your boyfriend made sure you knew he was listening, nodding and making a few comments when you’d pause to catch your breath. most people would hate hearing someone complain for as long as you usually did, but miles didn't mind it. in fact, he enjoyed it. it wasn’t your anger that he savored, he just loved staring at your pretty face. you had miles in a trance forever and always. your beauty would forever captivate the boy and you were well aware. the difference between now and when you weren’t blowing smoke out of your ears was that miles could admire every feature without you teasing him for it, because you wanted him to pay attention. in any other instance, you loved pointing out how much he stares and making fun of him for it as if you’re not just as head over heels.

“i feel pathetic. i waited there for a goddamn hour. and you wanna know what the worst part about all of this is?” you exhaled, your irises peering directly into miles’.

even when you were upset, you could admire him. you were doing it in that moment. last time it was his eyes, now it was his hair. the sun rays looming from the unfolded blinds painted his afro a soft brown, singling out and defining numerous strands of those gorgeous spirals sprouting from his head. he was so perfect to you. you often had trouble believing you could call him yours.

“tell me,” miles retorted, slightly angling his head to the left.

“i wore a good outfit for nothing,” you whined, tipping your head back concurrently. “i just got this tracksuit! this is honestly ten times worse than wasting a good outfit on a boring day.”

you had on a black, velvet matching set from juicy couture. it was expensive and you were pissed to have had wasted your first wear on the day you found out your friends aren’t shit. miles remembered how excited you were to buy that outfit. you’d talked about saving the money for it for what felt like forever.

“you didn’t waste your outfit,” miles assured you, drawing confusion to your face almost immediately. “i still have a surprise, you know.”

“right,” your eyes lit up and you sat up straighter, disregarding your mood. “i was thinking about it on the subway and i have a few guesses.”

“i don’t think you’ll be able to guess this one, but you can try," he laughed lowly.

“cookies?” you started.

miles shook his head. “no.”

“a cat?”

“no, mami,” he laughed.

“ummm,” you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought. your dark-colored orbs traveled to the ceiling. “movie marathon night?”

“better.”

you snapped your fingers. “christmas movie marathon night."

“no movies,” miles clarified.

“beyoncé?”

“not beyoncé.”

“i can do your makeup?!”

“nope.”

“you got me,” you rolled your eyes and blew raspberries. “i give up. spill.”

“i know you wanted to go to the fair during the summer, but i didn’t take you because i knew you’d complain about the heat,” miles began. “now that it’s november, i figured it’d be the perfect time to go.”

“oh shit, for real?!” your eyes slightly widened as you swung your legs off of miles.

“i don’t see why i wouldn’t be,” he retorted. “we’ll take the train and walk the rest of the way.”

you jumped off of the couch in excitement and shuffled behind the piece of furniture to grab your purse. you glanced over at miles, who was now scrolling on his phone. you crept up on him from behind the couch and inched close to his ear.

“get up!” you demanded playfully, grabbing his shoulders. miles slightly flinched, and you burst into a fit of laughter at his reaction.

“okay, okay!” he stood up, rolling his eyes and smiling. “i was thinking we could wait a little bit before we went.”

“nope, no time to waste,” you insisted. you’d wasted enough of that with your “friends.”

your boyfriend told you about all of the abilities that he acquired when he became spider-man, one of them being his heightened senses. you used to expect them to go off whenever you were approaching him, or whenever you scared him, but they never did. when you inquired about it, miles told you that his senses were most likely there to protect him, therefore they’d only go off when they felt like someone or something posed a threat. he didn’t elaborate any further, but you got what you needed to out of it.

knowing that miles and his radioactive dna felt safe around you made you feel special.

❤︎₊ ⊹

you hadn't been to a fair since you were ten. you had gone with your cousins, your mom, and your aunt. back then, you weren't smart enough to know how to play any of the games correctly. you weren't tall enough to ride anything that looked cool to you, either. you despised always having to settle for the teacups and the carousel.

going back to the fair wasn't really a priority until that past summer. it just happened to be on the long list of things you wanted to do with miles.

the air outside was cool and crisp and the sun probably felt threatened by the clouds obstructing its view of the city with insomnia. you were relieved to not feel the sweltering heat beating down on you, especially since you had worn the sun’s favorite color in velvet. the leaves on the trees were turning orange now. you were entranced by one tree in particular, watching as the plant detached itself from the branch of the tree and danced in the wind on the way to the ground.

at the front gate, you held out your hand so one of the employees could give you a stamp, as did miles. the stamp was an orange leaf, but it didn't really show up on your darker-colored skin no matter how you squinted.

now that you were there, the fair was much more different than you pictured it to be. though you wanted to experience as much as you could, you had three main goals in mind:  1. win an unnecessarily oversized plush 2. take pictures in a photo booth 3. go on the ferris wheel

as long as you were able to say you did all of those things by the end of that night, you’d forget all the misfortune that the first half of the day bestowed upon you and forgive the universe for allowing it.

as you strolled the fair grounds with miles, you tried to catch a glimpse of everything there was to do as you passed. the fair was bustling with people. there were families, groups of friends, trios, duo. there were also couples, like you and miles. you even saw people by themselves every so often. your day could’ve ended like that, you were elated that you didn’t feel alone anymore, but you’d never say it out loud.

“whatcha wanna do first?” miles asked you. he was being just as observant as you, if not more.

you squinted your eyes ahead and a specific game caught your eye. “let’s play basketball, i’ll definitely whoop your ass this time.”

“big talk for someone who can barely even shoot baskets when we're on the court,” miles fired back. “whoever wins gets to choose what we do next.”

“fine by me,” you shrugged.

you two grabbed a single basketball from your lanes when you got over to the game. you saw miles adjust his grip on the ball from the corner of your eye. you reduced your eyes to slits in response and pressed your lips together.

when the bell rang and the timer began to count down, you both shot your balls into the baskets. both of them made it in. you were doing fine for the first couple of seconds, but then your balls began to veer away from your basket. you quickly glanced over at miles’ scoreboard to find that he was eight scores ahead of you. you furrowed your brows and began throwing balls into the goal again, making the first three shots and missing the last two. you were on autopilot from that moment on, throwing balls at your goal without stopping to celebrate nor gripe.

just as you reached down for a basketball to make another shot, the timer went off, indicating the end of the game. you looked up at your scoreboard to find that you’d only gotten twenty-eight shots. you could already feel miles’ eyes boring a hole through your head, patiently waiting on you to look over at his lane and accept defeat.

you gave in to defeat and scanned his final scoreboard: fifty-eight shots.

you finally looked over at the boy and he was smirking slyly. “yeah, so i’m tryna play the game with the water guns and the targets.”

you would’ve much preferred to find a photo booth next, but a deal was a deal, so you brushed off your loss. neither of you had a map, so you weren't sure where any of the games were. you two agreed to wing it, so you and miles roamed around for a while. you made small talk and miles teased you for being so confident that you'd win the last game.

finally, you came across the mini-game he wanted to play. your face lit up when you saw all the stuffed animals hanging from the rack above. you could get behind this.

the worker was on her phone, visibly nodding off until you two approached the game. you caught a glimpse of her rolling her eyes and shoving her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans. though she was clearly fed up by the presence of you and your boyfriend, she thoroughly explained the rules of the game. miles had to strike down moving targets with a water gun. the targets would move left to right, up and down, or both. he had to shoot all of them to win, and he only got five minutes to do so.

the worker hit the red button and miles was on the clock.

the targets were the typical kind: white circles with red circular stripes, and a red bullseye in the middle. you watched keenly as miles gripped the gun and squeezed one of his eyes shut for precision, pulling the trigger and shooting a line of water at two of the targets with ease. to his surprise, they began to move faster. he was still hitting them though.

the employee was paying miles no mind, already turned around and back on her phone, texting away. even though dealing with those targets was like breathing for miles, he decided to take a shortcut. just for fun.

while the worker wasn’t looking, miles handed you the water gun and used his web-shooters to swiftly shoot down the last five targets. your eyes enlarged at him in a panic and before you could really think about it, you sprayed the webbing off of the targets miles shot down with them.

the worker turned back around when she heard the winner’s bell ringing. by that time, the water gun was already back in miles' hand. the worker stared at the both of you in confusion. miles looked proud of himself. you nervously smiled and shrugged.

the worker rolled her eyes before they traveled over to the selection of toys and stuffed animals just above her. “pick a prize, any prize,” she said unenthusiastically.

“which one do you want, mama?” miles asked you.

“umm…” your voice trailed off. your eyes glossed over all the different plushies until one caught your eye. “stitch for sure.”

the worker nodded and unhooked the stuffed animal from the rack. she quickly handed it to miles and gave him a quick half-assed smile before resuming her bored expression. miles passed you the stuffed animal and you smiled brightly. you remembered this feeling, and you felt like a little kid all over again.

“he’s our son now,” you proudly declared.

“he’s too big for that,” miles teased you. “that’s a grown man.”

you gave miles a dirty look and punched him in the shoulder. “i won’t let you body shame our son.”

“my bad!” miles laughed and put his hands up in defense.

"yeah, whatever," you gave miles an eye roll and grimaced. you clocked the worker glaring at you two from the corner of your eye, so you grabbed miles' hand and hurriedly dragged him away from the booth. "we gotta go before she sees the pile of webs on the ground and has cps investigate us. she already hates us, what if she makes us return our son?”

"that's your main concern?" miles' eyes widened. "not the worker finding out i'm a superhero?"

“why would i be worried about that?" you inquired playfully. "i shouldn't have to lose my baby because you wanted to risk your identity."

you both laughed as you wandered along the paths of the fair aimlessly. neither of you knew what you where you were going next, but you were way too immersed in your debate to think about it. amidst your little parley, the sun finally escaped from the clouds' cover, the sky shifting to a warm orange and light shades of pink instead of the gray it had greeted you with.

“by the way, that was very much cheating,” you chuckled, thinking back to the mini-game. “you need to play fair next time. no web-shooters.”

“we had no opponents,” your boyfriend reminded you.

“the employee seemed like one,” you replied, thinking back to the looks she’d give you two. “i didn’t even know you had your shooters on you… anyway, that means stitch is an accident.” you frowned.

miles' nose wrinkled. “man, what?”

“i’m just chattin’,” you snickered.

“per usual,” miles shook his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder and shaking his head.

you two kept walking aimlessly for a little while, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted a photo booth. you briefly made eye contact with miles before briskly snatching up his arm, pulling him as you sped over to the booth.

“the booth’s not gonna disappear, damn!” miles from behind you, panting with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“it could,” you shrugged, gesturing to the curtain with your free hand. “get in.”

“stitch won’t fit in there,” miles pointed out.

you frowned and observed your surroundings. you knew stitch was bound to get stolen if you left him outside unattended. you continued to glance around, trying to come up with a simple, but logical solution. your eyes stopped on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench by herself, flipping through a novel. she had on a white sweater with a black dress underneath, her long hair braided down and resting on her shoulder. you told miles to wait by the booth and approached the woman with a light-hearted smile on your face.

“hi, excuse me," you spoke softly in an attempt to make a good impression.

the lady looked up at you, half-surprised. she adjusted the position glasses with her index finger, gently pushing them up the bridge of her nose. “oh, yes?”

“may you please watch this for me while i take pictures with my boyfriend in that booth over there? i promise we won’t be long.”

you looked back at miles and pointed in his direction. though he was clearly confused, he smiled nervously and waved anyway. you turned back around to face the woman and smiled again.

“of course i will, dear,” the lady replied, a smile gracing her lips. she waved back at miles.

“thank you so much,” you smiled graciously, setting stitch next to her on the bench. you were ready to go back to miles when the woman stopped you by calling out. you whipped around, biding patiently in the same spot until she spoke.

“cherish the memories that you’re making. all of them.”

you didn’t exactly know what she meant, but then your last trip to the fair came to mind. it was so long ago, but you had almost forgotten how much fun you’d had, even if you couldn’t do much. you never wanted to make the mistake of taking memories for granted whilst you’re making them, because then you'd miss them too much when they were in the past, at least that's how you saw it. the future is uncertain. life is cruel. that day at the fair as a toddler could’ve been the first and the only time you ever went. today could be the second and the last. you hadn’t really thought about any of that before. you hadn’t thought about how precious your memories really were.

“and make them with the right people.”

you knew what that meant.

your eyes lowered, confusion evident on your face anyway. “how do i know if they’re the right people?”

“you’ll know. intuition is real. if something feels wrong or right, you'll know. listen to what your body is telling you, my dear,” the lady replied, crossing one leg over the other and opening her book back up.

your eyes widened slightly as you were still a tad bit lost, but you nodded. "okay. i will."

you jogged back to the photo booth, excitement coursing through your veins. miles didn’t bother questioning your tactics this time.

you both sat down in the photo booth and miles drew the curtain shut. he sat back and you tapped the screen, selecting two printouts so you could both keep one. before you even got the chance to retrieve your wallet from your purse, miles was sliding a couple dollars inside the machine. you hadn’t even noticed them in his hand before.

“today is my treat. you’re not paying for anything,” he told you.

“boo. i can’t spoil my man every now and then?” you clicked your tongue. “i’ll get you those comics you wanted instead.”

miles shook his head and chuckled. when the timer on the screen began to count down from ten, you fixed your braids and made sure your clothes looked presentable.

“i have ideas,” you announced to miles. you'd be envisioning this moment in your mind for ages. “just let me lead.”

“you the boss,” miles conceded in compliance.

“cool,” you giggled. you slid your hand under miles' chin and pulled him closer until your lips were pressed onto his cheek. you stayed in the same position with your eyes closed until you heard the first flash. the next photo was simple, a shot of you and miles kissing. the third one was the both of you looking at each other and laughing. it wasn’t planned, but miles had made a joke so you didn’t have time to pose any differently.

in the following ten seconds, you made miles your canvas, scattering kissing all over his face. he was confused until he looked at the screen to see all that your lips were imprinted on his face with colored lipgloss. he kissed his teeth but then laughed. your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and that was the last photo. it was your favorite.

you waited for the photo strips to print and then left the booth. you immediately snapped your neck towards the bench to see your stitch plushy still sitting with the older lady. you sighed in relief and jogged over to her.

“thank you again!” you beamed, grabbing the stuffed animal.

you had a feeling she knew you were also thanking her for the unsolicited advice. you'd never understand how some older people were so good at reading others.

“you’re welcome, dear,” she waved goodbye and you waved back.

you wouldn’t forget what she told you.

you then went back to miles, expressing how happy you were that stitch wasn’t stolen. you went on and on about what a terrible mother you would’ve been, had you lost your child after not even twenty minutes of having him.

a few minutes later, miles caught you staring at some nearby concession stands. you didn’t eat anything before leaving his flat, but the line was a bit lengthy. you were silently trying to decide whether the wait would be worth it.

“you hungry?”

you nodded, settling for waiting in a long queue over an empty stomach. “starving."

❤︎₊ ⊹

it was getting late now. the sun was nowhere in sight and neither was the end of the night. the cool fall breeze felt nice against your soft skin. you wished that you could live in this part of the day for eternity, playfully bickering with miles as if you wouldn’t cling to him a few minutes later during the drop on a rollercoaster.

up to that point, you had gone on at least thirteen rides and played nine competitive mini-games. miles ended up winning most of them, despite him saying he’d go “easy on you.” you’d always respond to loss by saying you won in your heart, and he’d laugh at you. you’d pretend to be upset until you couldn’t fake it anymore and laughed along with him.

now, you and miles were sitting on grass, the synthetic kind. you two had shared a peculiarly long corn dog. you claimed that was enough for you, but miles ordered nachos too, and you shamelessly snatced up a sizable amount of them. food just tasted better when it wasn't yours.

after hours of being offline, you finally had a phone break. you sent your mom a text to check in with her before navigating to your email app. you scrolled through your recent until you came across the digital copies of the pictures you and miles took in the photo booth earlier sitting in your inbox. “i got the digital version of the photos. they're so cute!" you exclaimed.

miles grinned. “send ‘em to me later on."

“will do,” you agreed, looking back up to see him stood up from the ground with stitch in hand.

“i’ma rent out a locker to keep this guy inside of and then head to the bathroom,” he told you.

“okay, i’ll be here,” you nodded.

whenever you were out with anyone, you always thought it was common courtesy not to reply to texts that weren’t urgent. you never wanted to make anyone in your life feel like your focus wasn’t on them while you were spending time together. that being said, you hadn’t thoroughly gone through your notification center since you were at the mall. since miles was gone for a little, you thought it was a good time to deliver a few textbacks, because you knew that after tonight, you wouldn’t have any energy to do so until the next day.

you didn’t have any notifications from the calculus group chat, no surprise there. you had an older one from your mom from before you checked in, but she was just sending a tiktok. the next one down was tiesha and then adana. a pit formed in your stomach and you nervously chewed on the inside of your cheek. despite the uneasy feeling you had, you opened tiesha’s text first.

tiesha💞: [name] (5:46pm) tiesha💞: miles is your boyfriend?? (5:46pm)

‘not this again’ you thought.

you didn’t know what you were expecting the text to say, but it wasn’t that. this wasn’t a topic you wanted to circle back on, given everyone’s initial reactions. and you thought she knew—you thought everyone knew. maybe you weren’t as close with tiesha as you thought you were. or any of those girls.

you: yes... i’ve said this before (7:34pm)

you: literally with him rn. why? what’s the problem? (7:35pm)

your brows were knitted together as you anticipated a reply, your fingers drawing circles in midair just centimeters above the keyboard. you were biting the left side of your lip and your teeth were close to piercing the skin. tiesha's response came quick despite your late reply.

tiesha 💞: miles morales? the one i told you i like?? (7:36pm)

you read the text and had to do a double-take. your stomach dropped all over again. you had an exceptional memory. tiesha had never mentioned miles to you, like, ever. she hadn't mentioned any crush of hers to you at all. you just assumed she wasn't interested in dating.

you: i don’t remember you saying anything about like any miles.. but yeah he’s my boyfriend. (7:36pm) you: he has been for months now. i told y’all this, so idk why you were acting all confused @ the mall. (7:37pm)

tiesha 💞: if we knew then why would we be acting confused? 😐 (7:37pm)

you narrowed your eyes at the screen. you could tell her tone was meant to be harsh.

you: i don’t know, tiesha. (7:38pm) you: maybe for the same reason y’all were acting confused when you found me by myself at the spot that we agreed to meet at tday?? 🤦‍♀️ (7:38pm)

tiesha 💞: we said you could come hang w us (7:39pm) tiesha 💞: you’re the one who left (7:39pm)

you released an exasperated sigh as you read her response. you thought back to what the lady who watched stitch for you told you earlier. you couldn’t stick around these girls for any longer. they weren’t the people you wanted to make memories with. perhaps they were nothing more than a much needed lesson. you partially learned how to socialize, but you also needed to learn how to stand up for yourself. you were growing up. nobody else was going to do it for you.

you: i left bc you guys were acting weird towards me (7:40pm) you: idk what the deal is, but if there’s a problem you need to be straight up about it. (7:40pm) you: we all agreed to meet at the food court, but i opened ig to see y’all posing in a mirror while i’m sitting alone. why’d you even invite me atp?? (7:40pm)

tiesha 💞: i thought adana was lying when she said you got with miles, behind my back but ig she was right. (7:40pm) tiesha 💞: you weird af for that. you know i like him (7:41pm)

you: fym bro.. ??? 😭 i literally did not (7:41pm) you: and either way, he’s BEEN my boyfriend (7:42pm)

tiesha 💞: yk you only got w him to tick me off 🖕 (7:42pm)

you: ok wtv. (7:44pm) you: you guys showed me what kind of people you really are, so best believe i’m not sticking around anyway. you can tell that to eb else.(7:45pm) you: and i don't know what you thought you were doing. miles has been MY boyfriend for almost over a year now. he’ll continue to be my boyfriend for years to come, thanks. (7:47pm)

you didn't hesitate to leave the group chat and block those girls everywhere. they didn’t get to have access to you anymore. it felt like weight was lifted off your shoulders and you silently celebrated in your head. you were still in public and didn’t want to draw attention to you because you were cheering about cutting people off. at least you were free from the burden, even if you had a few less friends now.

“ready to go to the ferris wheel?”

you glanced up from your phone to see miles towering over you, both of hands in the pockets of his green puffer. you smiled big. this was the last thing on your checklist, and the thing you’d been looking forward to since you set foot on fair grounds.

“duh,” you giggled, reaching your arm out so miles could pull you up. after he did, you brushed off your outfit and cleared your throat. “so, do we know which way it is?”

“nope,” miles answered. “we’ll just start walking and hope we come across a map, or something.”

you raised and eyebrow and smirked. “so like we’ve been doing this whole time?”

“like we’ve been doing this whole time,” he echoed.

“i guess it makes it more adventurous,” you decided as you two began to walk away from the grass. you clasped your hand with his. “plus, i can tell you what happened with tiesha while you were in the bathroom while we look for it.”

miles’ eyebrows elevated. “something happened?”

“yep,” you shake your head in annoyance. “tiesha had a crush on you or something. apparently, she didn’t know we were together, so she thinks i got with you just to spite her.”

“how wouldn’t she know?”

“that’s what gets me!” you pointed your index at miles’ chest and tilted your head back in irritation. “i told her and the other three, so i don’t know why they were acting clueless! plus, she swears up and down i knew she liked you. that girl never said a word.”

“from everything you’ve told me today… it sounds like they just don’t like you,” he frowned, speaking in a way that told you he was trying not to hurt your feelings.

“they don’t,” you sighed, tilting your head up slightly. “that’s why we’re not friends anymore. i told tiesha to tell everyone else we won't be talking anymore.”

"really? are you okay?"

you reluctantly nodded. "yeah, i think i'm okay." you were telling the truth. in the moment, you were okay. maybe it'd bother you later, but all that mattered was that it wasn't bothering you now.

miles’ expression softened in relief. “that’s good. i’m glad you’re learning not to take b.s.”

you covered your mouth and snickered when you heard "b.s." for whatever reason, you thought it was humourous coming out of miles' mouth.

“no, really,” miles insisted anyway. “i’m proud of you.”

you didn’t ask for confirmation because you believed him even if you found the delivery funny. “thank you, miles.”

he smiled and pulled you closer, planting a kiss on your forehead. you grinned and pressed your ear against his arm. you made sure to take in and appreciate each and every step you took forward with your lovely boyfriend. you were cherishing a memory that wasn’t one yet, but tonight felt far too special not to. you absorbed everything to the scenery and the moonlight to the warmth that clinging to miles' arm gave you.

as if it was looking for you two and not the other way around, you and miles found your way to the ferris wheel without even having to seek out direction. surprisingly, the queue wasn’t at all demanding. when you got closer to the front of the line, you thought of something. you needed something to remember your favorite memory by, anyway.

“we should take a picture in front of the wheel,” you suggested to your boyfriend. “we can ask someone to do it for us.”

“bet,” miles pulled his phone out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he turned around and kindly asked a random girl standing in line behind you two if she could take the photo for you. she thankfully agreed and miles swiped to the camera app and handed her his cell. you two backed up a bit and the girl told you where to stand so that the photo would look better. you took a few pictures standing in front of the wheel side by side, miles’ arm around your shoulders. you two were hugging in one of the shots and he was kissing your forehead in the other.

after those pictures, you took miles’ arm and made him face a different direction. now your shoulders were to the camera lens and the ferris wheel. you snaked your arms around his neck and he instinctively placed his arms around your waist. this was one of your favorite poses, miles knew what to do by now.

you glanced down at your feet and took a step closer to miles so the distance you two wouldn’t look awkward. you lifted your head back up to meet his gaze. the boy was looking at you and you could’ve sworn you saw hearts forming in his eyes. he wasn’t just looking at you, he was admiring you. there was a difference, and you could tell.

but it’s not like you weren’t doing the same.

you whispered loud enough for only miles to hear. “i love you."

“i love you more."

you shifted onto your toes and miles slightly leaned down to reach you. your lips connected effortlessly, your eyes fluttering closed in unison. the ferris wheel lights glimmered behind you two as miles deepened the kiss. you mindlessly lifted your hands to his cheek, your thumbs gently caressing his soft, warm skin.

“got it!” the girl taking the photo called out.

you and miles slowly withdrew your bodies apart and she approached you two, handing miles the phone. you both thanked the girl and got back in line. your gaze was fixed on the structure above you. all you could think about was how pretty the sky was bound look from all the way up there.

you excitedly entered the cabin when it was finally you and miles’ turn. the designated employee shut the door and your eyes immediately glued themselves to the window. you were just barely going up, and you already had a better view of the fair and all of the lights.

“you seeing this, miles?” you questioned without even daring to rip your eyes away from the window.

“i am,” he smiled. your reaction to the view made him happier than any angle of the world around him ever could.

as you ascended higher up, you focused more on what was above ground rather than on it. the luminous stars painted the night sky like white spatters of paint would paint a black canvas. they glittered brightly above you while the ferris wheel slowly spun.

you turned your head back to miles to smile at him, but he beat you to it. you felt like the luckiest girl alive. you were thankful to have at least one person who was true to you. that alone was more than enough. 

miles was more than enough.

the moonshine illuminated your beguiling features as you admired its fullness and its beauty. your head was rested on miles’ shoulder and his arm was sitting around your waist, the other one holding your hand in his lap. you knew you’d look back on this and recall that you never took this day or the feeling that came with it for granted, not once.

this felt so right—you didn’t know how to explain it. tonight was perfect and you would never change a thing. everything was how it should be. you were where you should be, you could feel it. this felt right in your soul.

maybe this was it. maybe this is what everyone was talking about.

maybe intuition is real.

❤︎₊ ⊹ bonus:

you and miles had concluded your fair date and were back at his place. you were going to stay for a while before returning to your own. your head was on his shoulder and your legs were curled up in the opposite direction. his hand was evolved in yours, as yours was in his. miles' mom was home and you definitely didn't want to give her the wrong idea by appearing exceedingly handsy.

“i had fun,” you gloated on the day you'd just had as miles browsed through netflix on the tv.

“are you sure? you seemed pretty over it when i beat you at basketball.”

you tongue clicked. "very funny, morales." you thought for a moment. “and thanks for taking me out, by the way. i know you were probably tired from having to fight all morning,” you exhaled.

“it’s no problem,” miles insisted, though you could tell he looked tired. “tomorrow’s sunday, i’ll get some sleep then.”

you both turned your heads when you heard the sound of a door being opened echoed through the hallway followed by rhythmic footsteps. even though you and miles both knew the footsteps belonged to rio, the hallway was dark, so neither you or him could see her until she stepped into the living room. her hair was down instead of being braided or put into a ponytail like it usually was. she was trying to slide a hoop into the earring hole in one of her ears. she was in one of her fancier outfits.

"jeez, you kids been on the couch all day?"

“we went to the fair,” miles replied, a smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“oh really? explains the oversized oso on your bed. papa, didn’t you use to watch that one show… what was it called? spy oso?”

“special agent oso, mami,” miles corrected her, a hint of embarrassment fermenting in his voice. his teeth were clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed. “and that’s stitch, not a bear.”

you were stifling a laugh, one of your hands shielding the grin on your mouth while the other clutched your stomach. rio didn’t see, but miles did and he rolled his eyes at you.

“i left the snacks in your room, i’ll be right back," you told miles before you got up and disappeared down the hall.

“stitch? what’s a—” rio stopped herself and shook her head. “actually, never mind. how was the fair?”

miles answered her anyway. “it’s an alien, mom. from lilo and stitch. and the fair was good, we had a lot of fun. i can show you pictures later.”

“good,” rio smiled but then broke into a whisper. “miles, mejor la llevas a casa. don’t let that girl wander around all by herself at night.”

“alright, alright,” he put his hands up in defense. “you know i always take her home, calmáte.”

“alright, then. just making sure," rio retorted. "anyway, i’m in a hurry, i’m going to meet your dad, his coworker, and his coworker's wife somewhere. comportarse,” rio cautioned in a stern tone of voice, walking over to the couch and planting a kiss on her son’s cheek.

“i will,” miles promised as his mom hastily walked to the front door.

“tell [name] i’ll see her soon,” rio called out to miles before shutting the door.

a few moments later, you emerged from the shadows that lurked in the hall and took your seat next to miles on the couch. you scooted closer to him and pulled the blanket over both of your legs, handing him his bag of chips then opening your own. he hadn’t chosen something for you guys to watch yet.

“where’d your mom go?” you inquired, looking around.

“somewhere with dad,” miles answered, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. “she told me to say she’ll see you soon though.”

“aww,” you grinned. you really did love rio. you had to stop yourself from chuckling when you recalled her bringing up one of the shows miles used to watch as a kid. as hilarious as you found the whole thing, you held in your laugh anyway. you refocused your attention to the tv on the other side of the coffee table. it didn't take you long to realize that your beloved boyfriend still had yet to choose a movie to watch or a show to binge.

“what should we watch tonight?... homecoming?”

“jesus, no,” miles frantically shook his head, waving his arms around in a panic.

you were referring to beyoncé's 2018 coachella headlining performance movie. you’d made the boy watch the film with you more times than he could count on you two's twenty fingers combined. miles knew the name's every song being performed, the lyrics, and what order they were performed in. he had almost memorized all of the dance breaks, but not willingly. he swore that the word “homecoming” alone triggered some kind of ptsd. miles knew you too well. he was well aware that the renaissance movie would be a homecoming repeat, but maybe ten times worse. he'd been mentally preparing for that as well.

“booooo, you’re boring,” you frowned.

“thanksgiving is coming up, how about that one charlie brown movie?”

“only if we can binge christmas movies after.”

“deal.”

maybemymali ©

taglist: @strawbzshortcake @l0starl @adorefavv @spid3namy @amayaaasworld @lushxhearts @we-loveebony

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.