A/N: Hello, my sweethearts. I have a new chapter right here, that mainly exist because I thought it was only fair to get Lawrence's view on this whole thing, and exactly why he's been acting so damn distant towards Adam. (Is it weird that it annoys the hell out of me when he does that, even though it's me who's making him do it? Ah, what the hell…) And those of you who watch Grey's Anatomy might know that I stole the ET-comparison from there, but I thought that wouldn't matter much, since fanfiction is awesome like that. ;) Enjoy!

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26: We're Grownups, We Shouldn't Cry

Adam pulls back over the next couple of weeks. He thinks Lawrence doesn't notice, but he does. Of course he does. Lawrence almost gets annoyed with Adam, and with himself for being so tuned in on Adam's feelings. If he'd just been a little more oblivious or not known Adam as well, it would've been so much easier to be excited about college, but as it is, there's one drop of cold in his excited bubbling, and that drop is Adam's averted gaze. The slight flinch when Lawrence touches him.

"You've seen 'ET,' right?" Lawrence says one night. "You know how they synch with each other? So when Elliot gets sick, ET gets sick, and when Elliot gets drunk, ET gets drunk?"

Adam smiles bleakly.

"We're a bit like that."

Lawrence smiles back.

"Yeah, we are."

If Adam got what Lawrence implied with that, he doesn't show it. Not that night, or any of the other nights they could've talked about things. Lawrence is usually the one who starts those conversations, that's the way it's been ever since they started taking their long walks during their first year, but he's busy. He's extending his scholarship, saving money for flight tickets, makes calls to Canada from school because it'd be too expensive for him to call from home. Adam doesn't bring it up, of course, and that makes Lawrence even more annoyed. It makes him want to pick him up and shake him.

Or kiss him. Hug him until his goddamn ribs snapped, just to make Adam understand.

This annoying goddamn bond between him and Adam. It might've been what kept him alive this far, but it's going to be the death of him someday. If not soon.

Chances are good he'll kill himself if he has to see that look in Adam's eyes one more time.

Like he's still this unloved little child that doesn't have a real home to go to.

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The snow is about to melt away when Lawrence and Wendy go out for a walk one night.

It's been a while since they did that. In a way, it feels familiar, and in another way, completely new. After all, this is the way Lawrence grew up; walking with her over the scrap yard, or sometimes, on the boardwalk, if they had the time to walk there or managed to sneak onto a bus. But that was before they had blocks this fancy to walk in, and before Lawrence had Adam to take the walks with. Everything's changed now.

It's like coming back to your childhood home and see that someone's painted the front door in a weird color.

"How are you feeling?" Wendy asks when they've been walking for so long that they've actually gotten back to their old neighborhoods, now walking over a bridge.

A creek runs beneath them, dirty water and used takeaway cups floating about sleepily. Lawrence remembers walking over this bridge when he was seven and Wendy and him and just gotten to know each other. Back then, this brown, slowly streaming water had been the wildest thing he'd ever seen, the bridge a giant triumphal arch. And they weren't allowed to be up there, absolutely not, it could kill them. But they went here anyway.

Lawrence smiles to himself at Wendy's question. She's a lot like Adam in that aspect. Even though they're the ones he leaves behind, and unlike them, he's been too worked up to think about it, they're still more concerned about how he's doing.

"I'm fine. I think it hasn't really gotten to me yet. I try to… Stay on my toes, you know?"

Wendy nods with a small smile. They stop at the top of the bridge, looking down into the water.

"I thought you'd be freaking out by now," she says and lets her pale arms dangle over the rusty handrail.

Lawrence smiles, too. Though he already feels it coming a little less naturally.

"Yeah. It'll probably hit me when I'm on the plane over there."

"Lou and Daniel seem kind of fine with the moving."

"Yeah," Lawrence says and folds his arms on the rail. "They're definitely excited about starting school… But I don't think they've really gotten that Adam's not coming."

Wendy turns to him.

"Have you told them?"

"Of course I have," Lawrence says, keeping his eyes on the water. "I've told them a lot of times. Lou just nods and says okay, and Daniel looks a little sad… But then as soon as I try to talk about moving again, they just ask where Adam's going to stay in Canada and if he's going to the same school as me."

Wendy keeps looking at Lawrence for a while before she looks over the handrail again. Then she sighs.

"They'll be fine as long as they have you, so they should get over it sooner or later," she says thoughtfully. "But it'll probably be worse for them with Adam not being there than me not coming."

The last words Wendy says hit Lawrence like a punch in the gut. He snaps his head towards her, feeling like she must've said something else than what he heard.

"What?"

Wendy looks back at him, wide-eyed, like she doesn't really get why he's so surprised.

"What?" she echoes before turning her whole body towards him.

Lawrence can't really get the words out. She should know what he means. She should know just how weird it sounds to move to a different goddamn country without someone who means this much.

"Y-you're not coming?" he stutters out, not quite noticing how hard he clutches to the rail of the bridge. "You're staying here?"

Wendy looks at him under now furrowed brows. She's always tried her hardest to understand his feelings, or at least accept them when they don't make sense to her, but this seems to be something they simply can't meet halfway about. She can't see any way she's coming with him, and Lawrence can't imagine being there without her.

"Lawrence, I can't come," Wendy says, clasping her hands together nervously. "You've extended your scholarship as far as you can to pay for the kids' tickets, we need all of my paycheck to pay for the rent until you leave…"

She probably has more to say, but her voice trails off when she sees Lawrence's the way Lawrence looks at her. He doesn't listen to her anymore anyway. This is when it all comes to him, a cold hand clutching around his insides, and he maintains his spasmodic grip on the rail just to stay on his feet.

Lawrence knew that Wendy wouldn't be able to come with him. Somewhere, he knew that, and truth is, she's not the most important one he leaves behind, but that's exactly why it hasn't hit him until now.

He can't go away without Wendy. The mere thought makes that cold hand clutch tighter.

And the thought of going away without Adam can't even be thought. It would be too much.

"You have to come with me!" Lawrence blurts out, and he's just as surprised as she is at the stinging tears welling up. "I'm going to fucking Canada, Wendy! How the hell am I supposed to… Without you… And Ada…"

He shuts up abruptly, can't even say that fucking name, turns away from Wendy's wide eyes and hides his face in his arms, folded on the handrail. He feels his trembling hands fisting, scraping off the chipped paint on the cold steel. He doesn't want to cry in front of Wendy, even though he has a thousand times before, because it's horrible enough already.

Those big, brown eyes staring at him, knowing that they'll only be there as his comfort for another couple of months.

Wendy, true to her nature, still tries to console him with undeniable logic.

"Lawrence," she says and puts her hand on his arm. "You've wanted out of this goddamn town since you were twelve. And you knew you'd have to go alone and leave everything. Why is this… Why is it such a big deal now?"

Lawrence can't answer her. But as usual, he doesn't have to. Wendy stays an arm's length away for another couple of seconds, before she steps closer, wraps both arms around Lawrence's neck and buries her face in the collar of his jacket, and the tears start flowing even harder, even though Lawrence blinks intently, like that's supposed to hold them down.

He lifts his face slightly from his arms and looks down at the water. He tries to feel the way he used to feel as a kid, when he came up here with Wendy and looked at the brown swirls, mercilessly twisting with their latte-colored foam floating up on the waves.

All he sees is pollution.

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Lawrence has no idea how long they stand there. Wendy doesn't even imply that they should go back home, even when he's stopped crying, or when the night creeps up and the cold gets even more intense, and her jacket is still worn even thinner than his. But after a while, all the sleepless nights start to take their toll on him, and in the safety of her arms, Lawrence falls into something that's not sleep, but some kind of dreamless, heavily sedated slumber. That's when Wendy lifts her head from his shoulder and looks at the streams underneath them. The water is almost black when it's this dark.

"I've thought about jumping so many times," she mumbles. "Every time we went up here and I was old enough to even know what suicide was, I wanted to jump from here. Not that the fall would kill me, but the streams are strong. I'd get pulled down pretty quickly."

Lawrence's eyes remain closed. Wendy's thumb strokes his face softly.

"Because my life…" Wendy goes on. "I was just… Tired. I was tired of being hungry, sleeping in fucking car wrecks, getting felt up by the junkies down in the trailer park…"

A cold wind draws over the water, echoing under the bridge.

"But then I thought about you," Wendy says. "You were the one thing keeping me… Not sane, but… You had all these big plans, Larry. I never had that. But I still felt meaningful, somehow… Just because you needed me."

Pause.

"You've kept me alive all these years," she concludes. Her voice sounds strangely thick. "Your work is done. You have to leave everything, and that includes me. I'll live. I promise you I will, you will, too, and you can look me up when you're a hotshot. If I have a phone number at that point, that is."

Wendy's eyes suddenly feel burning, swelling up in a weird way, something inside her loosening up. Two big tears trickle down her face, but she wipes them away quickly. Lawrence has only seen her cry once or twice, and she didn't like it. Even if she doesn't think he'll remember this later on, if he's even awake now, this moment shouldn't be ruined by something as silly as tears. This is their goodbye, after all.

Then Lawrence's head slowly tips to the side, his forehead resting on her temple. His eyes are only half-open, but Wendy, for some stupid reason, feels terrified.

"Barefoot Girl."

His lips barely move, but Wendy catches it. She smiles at Lawrence's drowsy expression, and draws her hand over her cheek to wipe away more tears. That's all the proof she needed that he's heard every word she's said and will definitely remember it, but that's not as sad as it should be.

In Lawrence's mind, she'll always be his Barefoot Girl, even though she does have shoes now. If he's lucky enough to have some things that are unchangeable.

"Yes," she says, her voice sounding strange in that way again. "Yeah, that's me."

She lets Lawrence stay in his half-sleep for a little while longer, their heads resting together, and Wendy hopes that Lawrence will be able to talk to Adam tomorrow, that she was a good warm-up for what'll be ten times harder. Then she tears his arms off the rail, pulling him up straight, and then they walk back home, leaving the rushing water behind.