NOAH

I took in my surroundings slowly and cautiously, trying to find familiarity in a place I thought I knew so well. CSA was my dream and a second home, but when my first day of instruction came, it was like I lost who I was and all sense of why I was there. Until I looked up and remembered my counterpart was on the other side of the room. Jude met my gaze with a reassuring smile and a nod of approval. It took me months to convince her not to go back to a normal, public school. After my own personal freak outs, Jude blamed herself for most of it. Which makes no sense and isn't fair. We were too much alike to believe we would never subconsciously compete. We just weren't ready to handle the level of sabotage we were supposedly ready to give out.

It took three weeks of having a two hour talk every day for her to accept the fact she could only thrive in the setting she was already blessed with. Seeing her across the classroom made all of that time and effort worth it. She was my only sense of home in a place I felt I knew nothing about. Years of preparing had been ripped out from under me shortly before, so I had mentally prepared myself to never step foot where I was. Being there was uncharted territory and a feeling of relief that I wasn't prepared for. The level of happiness I could feel in my heart when Jude started walking over toward my work space was so intense that I don't think it'll ever be recreated. I knew she would love what I was working on.

Our first assignment was to create something, in any medium, that could show why we were dedicating ourselves to art as opposed to a traditional educational setting. My answer was Jude. She gave me everything. The whole world. So I started with a block of clay and began to build to earth from the ground up. The core, the dirt, the roots. When Jude approached, I came to a halt and let her see the beginnings of the tree trunks. She smiled, cried, and went to continue working on her painting of our parent's old car.

After school, I walked to the spot me and Brian used to meet at. In the brush behind the building. A year ago, it felt like a secret hideout, but now I could see it for what it truly was. Brian and I weren't the first people to think our spot was ours. It wasn't secretive or unpaved at all, it was on a walking trail. All of those times I was lost in the woods were for nothing. I was just so enamored. With nature, with Brian, with life. Brian was at the trail head waiting to walk me home. The moment I spotted him, I had to face the ground to cover the blush that crept onto my cheeks. I checked over my shoulder to make sure that Jude wasn't following. She started catching rides with her friends as they grew older, but the walk was familiar and vital for me. She was nowhere to be seen, so I let my feet take me.

I ran to Brian with my arms stretched wide, and the embrace that resulted was so comforting.

"How was it?" he asked softly, still holding me.

"Fine," was all I could choke out before crying.

I was overwhelmed. I had become so accustomed to tragedy that the thought of everything going right scared the shit out of me. My mind wouldn't accept that things can stay okay, and I was constantly anticipating something falling apart. The good thing about having nothing is that I only had a few things to lose. The awful part about having nothing is that if I lost something I did have, it'd be a huge chunk of my well-being. Brian stayed silent and continued to hold me as I let my tears fall. He's always had a special way of knowing whether my tears were the result of something that needed to be fixed, or if I just needed to be a human for a moment.

When I collected my breath and recomposed myself, I let my arms fall from Brian's waist, and took a step back to meet his gaze. He had a big, goofy smile on his face, and his eyes lit up to match.

"Food?"

I laughed, knowing we were about to argue for twenty minutes about where we wanted to eat. We ended up at the same place as always.

JUDE

On Noah's first day at CSA, I was already jealous of the work he was producing, and nervous about keeping up. I had never seen him sculpt before, yet he was making the entire world out of clay, all the way down to defining the layers. My painting of our parent's old car looked like an infant's finger painting next to what he was creating. But the jealousy didn't matter anymore. We has spent so much time apart, and being our own people, that the competition was gone. It had to be. We were both ready to flourish.

At one point during class, Noah looked up at me, and I haven't seen him look more like Noah in months. Ever since he cut his hair and started dressing like everyone else does, it's been hard to see him as anything more than another boy. But he isn't just another boy. He is gifted and he is a ray of sun and I was so happy to finally have my day lit up again.

I know where Noah spends his time, and that's okay. My attention has shifted to Oscar and using the love he gives me to push my art and life to their limits. I wanted to walk home with Noah, but I could see Brian approaching through the window ten minutes before class even got out. And Oscar was in the parking lot anyways. I decided to stay and ponder at my brother, and even his stride as he walked away from me and toward Brian, was a strong indicator that his life is back on track. He is confident, happy, and excited for his future. Same as me. I'm more excited to see where those futures cross.

NOAH

When we arrived at the usual pizza joint, the server (Joey-I'm starting to think he lives there) told us to go to our table and that they'd have our food ready in a few minutes. We didn't even have to order anymore, which made the whole process much less inconvenient and made it feel like home. Brian walked over to our two-person table in the back corner of the restaurant, and I followed. We passed countless booths that were fit to seat eight people, and tables that seated anywhere from four to twelve. I always wondered why we chose the table in the back corner of the room instead of sitting somewhere with more room and comfort. But our table's corner was the meeting place of two large windows. The sun coming in left nothing up for question. I could see him perfectly. The group of five tiny freckles on the tip of his nose, the slight indent by his lip where a scar had formed. Every detail. That's why we sat there.

Seconds after sitting, Brian took my hands into his. After months of being in love, this was the first public display of affection I ever received from him. My fingertips burned with nerves and my heart felt so light it could've floated up my throat and out of my mouth. I wish it would've. I ached.

"I love you."

It was all he had to say for me to understand that we didn't have to hide anymore. I was still in the process of adjusting to everything new going on around me. The more that went well, the lighter I felt, the more my body couldn't plant itself anymore. Happiness was creeping its way into every empty crevice of my body, and I realized this world isn't what I wanted. I needed something more. I needed the universe. This new connection to the elation around me sent me to discover the beyond.

Hand in hand, Brian and I let our toes scrape the tops of the trees before we went to see what else the universe had to offer.