"Are you scared?" Tate asked suddenly as he sat at the base of a large ash tree.

From above him Angela called back, "What, of falling?"

"No, I mean if that's what you're afraid of then yes," Tate said as he ripped a still-green leaf in half then again and again, "but I don't think it is so no. I mean, like, what are you afraid of in life?"

"Well I'm afraid of birds I guess," Angela called down from her spot in the tree.

"Birds?" Tate said as he squinted up through the branches hoping to catch sight of her but the sun blinded him and returned his gaze to the leaf.

Now the tree was very old and very large. It had been around for over a hundred years. Neither Angela nor Tate was aware of that fact. All they saw was a big tree. Angela decided to climb it while Tate decided to stay on the ground.

"Are you sure you don't wanna come up," Angela called down to her blond companion, "it's really nice."

Tate was content where he was, however. He would not climb the tree, his worn down sneakers would have made his feet clumsy. His long jean pants were too constricting. He did not want to climb a tree, climbing trees wasn't what he did but he couldn't shake the feeling of missing her. He wished she would come back down and just sit with him down on the ground.

"Angela," Tate moaned from his seated position folding his legs up, crissing and crossing them one over the other, "are you done yet? Come back down already."

She had only been up there for 10 minutes but Tate was already aggravated by her absence. That was his problem you know? He could get so attached and over the past month Tate had grown used to Angela's constant presence.

As for Angela she had grown quite attached to the blond youth as well. He was strange, and she supposed sad as well but he was nice company. His topics of conversation were almost always thought provoking and he liked being with her. She could never understand why but no one ever really liked being with her until Tate.

Angela didn't know it yet but she was slowly building an addiction.

"I don't want to come down," she said not really caring if he could hear her, "the breeze is too nice and so is the view, it's a typical tree ya know? It's great."

Tate did hear her for the most part. He heard enough to understand she wasn't coming down. So he set to brooding. His dark half-lidded eyes glared at the mutilated leaf in his hand. He thought of ways to punish her for leaving him there all by his lonesome. Then curiosity interrupted his musings.

"Birds?" Tate called suddenly inquiring again about Angela's fears.

Then there was the sound of cracking. A snap as leaves rained around him. Tate wasn't even surprised when Angela landed on her butt besides him with a small yelp. She hadn't broken anything though her tailbone was probably bruised but Tate got what he wanted. Means to an end.

"Yea," Angela said, rubbing her bum gingerly, "birds creep me out. Haven't you seen the movie?"

And that started them on the topic of favorite horror films and then just films in general.

"At what point is a movie no longer just a movie?" Angela asked in the middle of their conversation, "like when does a movie, a plain old, regular movie graduated to "Film" status?"

Then that became a whole new conversation, a new debate that they could waste their time on. That's what those two teenagers did together. They wasted time. They wasted all the time they had.

"So you're telling me that you don't think that Batman was a great film?" Tate said giving her a disbelieving look.

"No well," she said mulling over the thought, "I've never actually seen it."

This was an even bigger offense in Tate's eyes. It was one thing to have a shitty opinion but to have an uneducated shitty opinion was just unacceptable.

"How have you not seen Batman?" Tate said still in disbelief.

"I dunno," Angela replied shrugging her shoulders then shivering a bit, the air was getting cooler, "I don't really watch current films only what my grandmother keeps around and she's ancient. I like them though."

Angela liked a lot of things and she found that she hated very little. A strange paradox those two created because Tate hated many things and found that he liked very little. He liked Angela though. After her confession of ignorance the two teens lapsed into soft silence.

"Hey Tate," Angela said after a few minutes, "what happens when the summer ends and we have to go back to school. We won't see each other much anymore seeing as we don't go to the same school."

Tate hadn't really thought about it. He didn't like to mull over what the new school year would bring. He'd be going to a new school but with the same old assholes. High school was a joke but it would be a nightmare without Angela there. He'd be lonely without her. Tate hated being lonely it was a sentiment that he and Angela shared.

"It's nothing to worry about, Ang," Tate said softly; he felt her lean into him.

He could smell her hair, which was a dark musky scent like incense and cinnamon. She smelled so warm, so welcoming. Her breath was apple vapor from all the juice boxes she downed on a daily basis. She also smelt vaguely of dirt and sweat from all the running around and falling she did and her hands. He could never forget the smell of her hands, it seemed no matter how many trees she climb or beaches she roamed her hands always managed to smell of honey and polishing oil.

He could feel her humming; he couldn't hear her the sounds she made were too soft. He could feel the song rumble through her. She was always humming that tune, dark and wistful. He'd have to ask her one-day what it was called. School was nothing to worry about. Tate could handle high school without Angela. They'd both be fine. They had to be.


A/N: Okay so here's chapter three these were all easy to write cuz they're the happy parts, so i hope you've had your fill of fluff because its pretty much over from here on out.

as usual leave me some suggestions, love letters, threats upon my life, I make no judgements. I love anything you guys have to say to me.

much love, Bri