LOUIS
After, what Aaron calls “intense opposition”, he was the one who decided the design for New York City. Which, not gonna lie, his designs are kinda cool. He’s basically trying to squish five sets into two with a projected background.

The AV Club is still getting back to us on if we can do.

I think we can do it, though.

Aaron was fighting with Erica and Will when I went pee.

I came back to find Erica fuming and Aaron smiling by a tipped-over chair. Will’s on the floor. He’s still breathing, but he’s lying down like he’s just run a marathon.

“What…happened?”

Erica gives me this death stare and slams her script binder shut. “Aaron. Fights. Dirty,” she enunciates. She turns to him and asks, “Again, you’d be great in my posse.”

“No.”

I walk up the stage. “And…uh…Will?” I point to the not-moving guy on the stage floor.

Aaron looks down at him and kicks Will’s shoulder. “His life force must have given out.” He says it so casually.

I crack a smile and eye Aaron. “How’d you do it?”

And he holds up, like, this fucking straw from the cafeteria with the straightest fucking face I’ve ever seen. Like he’s saying, “How else would I of done it?”

Snorting, I try to hide my smile, and I’m not sure if Aaron’s seen it. Because all he does is drop the straw and begin packing his things away.

But Erica does. And she gives me this look.

Then everything just ends up being a blur. Will heads out after Aaron bumps him with his foot again, Erica walks out for another club, and me and Aaron find ourselves waiting for our rides at the corner by the train station.

For December, it’s pretty ridiculous. No sun, lotsa clouds, but no snow. There’s breeze. I can freeze here.

“Wanna walk back to town?”

Aaron turns to me, surprised. “I’d rather eat snow off you shoes. I’m taking the train.”

“Wh…where do you live?”

He blinks. “Hartswood Park.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I live there, too.” I don’t live there. I live up the road. I just can’t bring myself to stop talking to him. If what dream Aaron said was right, I needed to push a little. “Okay. I’ll ride back with you. ”

“Why?”

I take a step back. “Look, I…just thought it’d be a neat way to get to know each other.”

He purses his lips. “If you’re just taking the train back, sure. But I have other things to do after that.”

I nod. “Got it.” And I can’t figure out what’s going on in his head, and it’s fucking bothering me.

I turn and begin walking. I take out my phone and call Jessie. “Don’t pick me up.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m dumb.”

“You are,” she says. But she says it in this soft way that makes me think that she’s daydreaming of me. “I’m right around the corner. Should I come get you still?”

“No.”

“Wait, are you walking home or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Louis, let me drive you. Where are you?”

“What did I say?”

“Louis!” I turn and see Aaron running up the block towards me. He’s out of breath and his cheeks are red.

But Jessie’s still trying to talk to me – “Louis Randolph, tell me where you – ”

I hang up. “What’re you doing here?”

He’s really out of breath. “I…” He sighs, and he catches his breath. “Oh, Jesus, I’m out of shape.” Aaron leans forward and pants, his face breathing at the ground for a minute. “I don’t…have my train pass on me. Can you spot me?” Aaron’s brown eyes are down, and he looks disappointed.

I nod and turn. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay.”

And I don’t fucking know what to say to him.

Like, he’s kinda a friend, but he’s not. But I know him.

And I’m stuck in this weird paradoxical loop of my relationship with him.

“Hey.” I turn and look at him. I look around and we’re at the train station. I didn’t even realize it. “Are…you okay?”

I breathe. “Um…” I don’t have an answer for him. I don’t.

“Sorry, I’m not good at small talk.”

“I can do it. Just not when…” I can’t find the word. ‘C’mon, brain. Fucking work.’

“…the situation’s awkward?” he asks. “Are you calling me awkward, Louis?”

I look at him. “N-no, I didn’t mean that.”

Aaron wearily smiles. “Don’t worry, Louis. It’s okay. I mean, I am awkward, too.” He looks forward. “I’d rather talk about big things.”

“…like space stations.” I am so goddamn smart, guys. Round of applause for me.

His eyes drop to the ground and sigh. “I…” He looks back at me. “Not literally, you moron.”

I smile. “Ooooooh, you mean like, ‘What is the meaning of life?’ or ‘What kinda pizza are you?’”

“The last one sounds like a bad Buzzfeed quiz.” He smiles, and looks away. “No, I was thinking, more like…” He inhales. “…ooo, I got one.” Aaron turns back to me and asks, in the most dramatic, low voice possible, “What do you want to be remembered for?”

The train rushes past us, and I almost can’t feel my toes. We get on, I pay for both of us, and the train starts off.

He asks the question again.

“Ho-ly shit,” I whisper. “That’s hard-hitting stuff.”

Aaron nods. “Now I want to hear your answer.”

I sigh. “Well…” I shuffle my foot on the floor. “…maybe, inspired by your passion for architecture…” Aaron’s eyebrows rise up. “…I help design a building that’s, like, important.”

He rolls his eyes. “Stunning word choice, Louis.”

I chuckle nervously. “Or, just, like, be a good psychologist for a million people. Help them with their problems ‘n shit.”

Aaron nods. “So I take it you want to study…environmental psychology in college?”

I shake my head. But I smile. “Nah. Basic psychology’s my game.” I look out the window. There’s always something so fascinating about watching trees pass by from a train. “Maybe I become a psychological artist and make all these different art things that people find relaxing. Or, or-or I set up my own practice and help everyone. Like, like kids like us. Still trying to figure out who they are. Identities and stuff.”

“Some of what you just described was environmental psychology.”

“I can study that, too.” I take in a breath and look at him. “I’m rambling. Stop me when you’re done listening.”

He looks away and shrugs. “No, you’re good. I always like hearing people’s responses.”

“Why do you always use big words?”

“Why do you ask?”

I shrug. “Curious. But first, your answer.”

Aaron looks away to watch the next station go by. “I, I want to be remembered for being a good person.” He pauses, and it feels carefully placed. “And, and I know that sounds really, like, obscure or something, but I don’t really have any lofty goals for myself.” His brown eyes drop. “Maybe I’m remembered for being a decent coworker, or a good parent, I don’t know.” He looks at me again. “But, I want to be remembered as someone who was…worthwhile and genuine, who tried their best to be a good influence.” He stops, and adds, “And I use big words because I know what they mean.”

“You callin’ me stupid?”

He looks at me and smirks. “Maybe.”

I sneer at him and look away. He looks away. “…well, god dammit, man. If that answer didn’t kick my ass….”

He looks at me. “That’s what I’m here for.”

And the conversation stops. What else is there to add to that?

But it’s okay.

It feels like the right time for it to stop. I don’t feel like I need to keep talking, or scared of him not talking. It’s comfortable.

We get to the station before I know it. I’m left in a daze trying to figure out how to get back home, and he’s calling out to me, “Thanks for the free ticket!”

“Anytime!”

And Aaron wanders off into town.

I pull out my phone and call Jessie. “What?” she asks, annoyed.

“Can you come pick me up, please?”

I’m such an ass. I gotta do something for her later.