The Tradition
“Reverie, please, just this once.” Archer’s voice was pleading.
He looked at me with his big brown eyes, the ones that always melted my heart when we were kids. He had grown taller and leaner since then, but his face still had the same boyish charm. He was wearing a sky blue tee and jeans, his raven black hair tousled by the wind.
I had no idea why he would ask that suddenly. It was something we used to do every weekend when we were kids: sneaking into his backyard at 11 pm and lying on the grass, staring into the sky until 1 in the morning.
We would talk about our woes, like how he suspected that he might have been adopted because his mother once denied him his beloved mint chocolate ice cream.
I can’t help but laugh when I remember it. How serious we both were during that conversation. He had even shown me a birth certificate he had found in his parents’ closet, with a different name and date on it. I had tried to explain to him that it was probably his older brother’s, who had died before he was born. But he wouldn’t listen. He was convinced that he was an alien from another planet.
We had so many silly conversations like that. We would make up stories about the stars and the planets, about aliens and superheroes and magic. We would share our dreams and fears, our hopes and secrets. We would laugh and cry and hug and tease. We were inseparable.
But this tradition died over time as we grew busier and older. We decided that 14 was too old for this childish stuff. We had homework and exams and sports and clubs to worry about. We had other friends and interests and hobbies to pursue. We had less and less time for each other.
But that was before everything changed. Before high school, before college applications, before girlfriends and boyfriends and parties and drama. Before we grew apart and stopped talking as much.
I looked at him now, standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets and his eyes shining with hope. He had called me earlier today and asked me to meet him here, at our old spot.
What’s going in your mind , Archer , I stared at his face wondering if i should agree or not.
