Wow, it's taken me awhile to update, hasn't it?

I wrote and rewrote this several times, and I'm still not at all happy with the outcome, but I finally gave up and uploaded it.

I'm done with Driver's Ed, so hopefully I'll be updating more regularly. However, I don't have my own laptop, so I'm not on as often as I'd like to be.

Anyway, I hope you like it, and I'd love some reviews once again!

It's an hour since you finished eating, but you're still laying on the roof of your car, talking about whatever comes up.
At the moment, John is pointing out the shapes in the clouds.
"See that? It's a rabbit-with a harmonica."
"Why the hell does it have a harmonica?" You have no idea where he's pointing.
"That's how he makes his living, Dave!" he tells you, sounding offended. "He's a street performer."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"He didn't have enough money for college. It's a touchy subject."
You shake your head in amusement. He can spin these stories even better than you tell nonsensical metaphors. In fact, you feel like he's even better, seeing as you can never come up with things on the spur of the moment. You feel your own speech is actually fairly dull in real life.
It takes you a second to realize John's babbling has stopped. He's looking down at you with a conflicted expression, eyebrows knitting together. You can practically see the gears whirring in his brain.
"What's going on in that mind of yours?"
"Uh," he mutters, hesitating, probably thinking over what he's trying to say. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
You're caught completely off guard, and you stare at him with your mouth slightly open, looking like an idiot.
He laughs nervously. "Just wondering, you know?"
You swallow.
You're not embarrassed. No. Just surprised.

Definitely not nervous. A strider is never nervous.

"No," you say shortly.
John blinks in surprise. "No?"
"No. I would have told you."
He shrugs. You glance over at him, but you can't seem to read his expression, which you find unsettling. Egbert usually fucking parades his feelings around, wearing his heart on his sleeve. Such a huge contrast to your own hidden eyes and closed expressions.
"Hey, Egbert, what's up?" after a long moment of stretched out silence.
He wrings his hands together, staring down at the car roof. "Um, well I just thought, 'cause you're well, you, I thought you having a girlfriend was kind of-expected? Wow, this sounds really dumb."
You raise an eyebrow and tilt your head a fraction. "Expected?"
"Yeah, well, like, I don't know. It just-fits, you know?"
You shrug. "I dunno. I don't talk to many people, so..."
A look of surprised confusion crosses John's face. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"But you're just-I always imagined you to be like, that kid everybody wants to talk to or...or something!"
You shrug once again. You don't really know what else to do. You've avoided talking to John about school throughout all of your friendship. Whenever the subject has come up in the past, you usually direct the conversation to John or change the topic completely. But this is real life, not a chat window, and you don't know what to do. So you just shrug your shoulders.
John says nothing.
You say nothing.
It's a big let's-say-nothing-and-make-this-as-awkward-as-possible sort of moment.
The only sound is the cars flitting past.
"Who was that kid the other day?"
"What kid?"
He gives you a pointed look. "You know who I mean."
"Nobody." It's the same answer you'd given him before.
He gives you another look.
"Somebody."
"Somebody?"
"Somebody. Nobody important. Just another idiot."
"And are there a lot of idiots?"
You know what he's asking. Does it happen often? Is your life like mine? Because throughout your years of friendship, too often you've listened to him complain about the bullies in school, the name-calling, the indifferent teachers. Too often you've just wanted to crack down and say, fuck, bro, I know, I know.
But all you ever gave him was a virtual pat on the back.
But this is real life, not a chat box. There isn't a screen to hide you, and it's time for you to talk.
"School kinda sucks," you admit. "The people suck. And the teachers. And everything."
John stares at you, biting his lip with his slightly larger-than-usual front teeth. He waits for you to continue.
"So yeah, there are a lot of idiots. All the time. Everyday." Wow, that didn't sound pathetic. Not at all. Taking a deep breath, you go on. "But it's cool."
"'Cause you're a Strider?" John smiles weakly.
You nod. "Yeah, but also because I come home and have conversations with my favourite blue-fonted bro."
He grins a watery smile, and suddenly he's flinging his arms around you in the biggest hug you two have shared since the first day he arrived. His arms are tight around you, pulling you close, and his head ends up buried in your shoulder.
You don't resist. On the contrary, you risk wrapping a single arm around his waist.
"Hey, Egbert, it's cool," you assure him.
He says something, but it's too muffled by your shoulder for you to understand, so he tilts his head up slightly before repeating it. "Why didn't you tell me?"
You shrug. You've been doing an awful lot of shrugging.
"No, but really! There were all those times where I just complained and complained, and you never said a word about your own stuff! I just assumed you didn't have any!" He seems genuinely upset.
"Seriously, dude, it's cool. I deal with it." And it's true. It doesn't usually bother you. You ignore whatever words anybody throws at you, and the few times they manages to get to you, you get over it pretty quickly.
John shakes his head. You sigh.
"Dude, it's fine. C'mon, let's go." You grab his hand, making an effort not to lace your fingers together, because that would be gay.
You dangle your legs over the edge of the car and slide down, and Egbert is quick to follow. You climb in through the passenger seat, clambering over the seats to the driver's side. When the two of you are seated, you glance over at John, trying to read his expression, before turning the keys in the ignition and starting the car.
You feel John's eyes on you the whole car ride.