Gavin stumbled out of his house, waiting at the door for his mother.

"Okay. Please be careful. And come home if you feel uncomfortable or scared at all. I'm so proud of you, okay?" Ms. Shepard said, crossing her arms and giving a warm smile.

"Yeah, okay."

"Stay with Emmitt at all times. And most importantly, have fun. But be careful."

Gavin nodded, closing the front door and heading for the garage. He grabbed a hold of a copper looking bike with black handle bars, pulling it so the wheels would roll across the paved ground. He looked up to see Emmitt, who was already with his bike. "I, uh... thought you said you didn't have a bike."

"I don't."

Emmitt nodded, pointing to Gavin's bike. "But you have-"

"It's my mom's."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"I haven't actually been on a bike in a while."

Emmitt looked over at him, grinning. "Well, that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. Learning to bike isn't too hard. Step up on the peddle and- yeah, there you go."

Gavin propped his foot on the left peddle and sat forward on the seat, looking up. "If I step forward on the peddle, I think I can move. I just need to get both feet up."

As Emmitt started to ride, Gavin lifted his right foot up and started to peddle. He gained balance, the bike wobbling a bit. He looked up, and Emmitt looked back at him. "Nice! You got it!"

They peddled down the street, making their way to the corner where the crosswalk and intersection was. As they peddled, their bikes zoomed past other people and buildings. The sunset was glowing yellow and orange, still with lots of time to go down.

"Okay, just follow me, we don't have too much left to go," Emmitt said, trying to top the sounds of the city.

Gavin nodded, watching the boy in front of him, his hair picking up the wind.

Soon enough, Emmitt parked his bike at the entrance of a forest, which was off on a seperate pathway from the road. He waved Gavin to do the same.

They both started walking through the trees. 

"Just be careful," Emmitt warned. "There's like, sticks everywhere and random tripping hazards. I've tripped over one of the roots in the ground and scraped up both my knees. I was okay, of course. But you know."

"I got it," Gavin nodded. He pushed a large branch away and walked past it. "How did you find this place anyways?"

"I don't really know, to be honest," Emmitt said, stepping over some roots that jutted up. "I guess I was just bored and decided to go explore. There's always more to something than you think. This city seems boring but there's a lot of treasures. You just have to look."

"Who says this is any better than the city?" Gavin looked around.

"What do you mean? You don't like it?" Emmitt asked, confused.

"I'm trying to be sarcastic," Gavin said.

"Oh, I see," Emmitt laughed. "I get it. Sorry."

"You're sorry?" asked Gavin. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course. I feel bad for not understanding," Emmitt said.

"How does that feel? Like, can you describe it to me?"

Emmitt looked at him, confused as to why he would need him to explain. "Feeling bad for someone? I guess it just feels ugly. Like it feels like you are mad at yourself, in a way? Like I'm mad at myself because I should've understood what you were feeling."

Gavin nodded.

As they continued walking, Emmitt stopped and pointed at a big tree with sticks built into a fort shape. There was a flag, an old red flag that was tattered, and many pieces of paper taped to trees, covered in pencil drawings of butterflies, bugs, and things Gavin couldn't recognize.

"Welcome to my hangout. This is the place I come to most days," Emmitt said proudly.

Gavin looked around, taking everything in. "You drew all these?"

Emmitt nodded, smiling at his hard work. "Yeah."

Gavin kept staring at the drawings, and then walked over to the large tree and slumped down to his butt in the dirt, resting in a large dip in the tree roots. Emmitt joined him, resting down on the opposite side of the tree.

It was quiet for a while, until Gavin spoke up. "I know I'm confusing you. And I know I'm rude. And I think I'm sorry for, you know, being like that. But I don't know how I feel."

Emmitt listened, resting his head back on the tree, listening to Gavin's voice travel to his side of the tree. "Feelings are difficult. I don't understand feelings either."

"But it's different," Gavin said, his voice quieter. "I don't know how to explain it."

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Emmitt explained. "Everyone's got things they don't want to talk about."

"Yeah," Gavin agreed, spacing out, looking over at another tree in the distance. "You don't know the reason I'm here with my mom now right?"

"No,"Emmitt said.

"So you don't know," Gavin thought out loud.

"No, I don't. Like I said, all I knew was that you and your mom were having a hard time."

There was long pause, before Gavin broke the silence.

"As a child, my parents split up. My mother was in a really bad position or something, and my father had been the one who was paying for most of my education, the hydro, and the food. So my father ended up getting custody of me."

There was another break, almost as if Gavin was waiting to hear Emmitt. When he didn't say anything, he kept going. "I lived with my dad for a while. Everything was good until one night... and I didn't ask for it at all. But it all happened. And I still see things and feel things..."

Emmitt nodded, not making a sound.

"I get mad when I don't want to, Emmitt. Seriously. I don't want to feel things but sometimes I just do. And other times I don't understand what I'm feeling."

Emmitt leaned back on the tree, still listening to Gavin's voice. "I think that's totally okay."

"What's okay?" Gavin asked.

"It's okay to be confused about feelings."

Gavin nodded. "How long do you stay out at night at this place?"

"I don't know. I try to go back when the sun is almost set," Emmitt explained. "Did you wanna go back now?"

"No rush, right?" Gavin asked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emmitt kicked off his shoes and closed the front door of his house. As he ran in, he saw his mother sitting at the table looking at the newspaper. "Emmitt?"

But he ran past her, going down the hallway to his bedroom. He closed the door and pulled his chair out and found his journal. He grabbed a pen and started writing.

This time was different. Hanging out with Gavin hadn't been like hanging out with Andrew Sicklemore or Casper Jones. They had sat for hours talking on the seperate sides of the tree. They talked about a lot of things. About how Gavin's past had changed him, and how he was diagnosed with alexithymia. About how Gavin was prescribed antidepressants and how he has mad outbursts. There was crying, and quietness, and some moments that felt long. But they had stayed there in the clearing for a long time, longer than Emmitt could keep track of. They had biked back when it was dark out, when the streetlights were dim and there was barely any cars driving. And when they got back, Gavin had waved goodbye and leaned his bike against his porch.

"Emmitt Hendrix," a voice said, the sound of Emmitt's bedroom door opening. His mother stood there, holding on the door handle. "Where have you been? It's almost eleven."

"I'm sorry mom," Emmitt said, closing his journal to face his mother. "I went bike riding with Ms. Shepard's son Gavin. Didn't I tell you I was going to?"

"No, you didn't. You told me you were going bike riding like you always do. The reason I'm mad is that you came back home so late. What happened to coming home when the sun goes down?"

"Mom," Emmitt started, sighing. "I'm sorry. I lost track of time. Gavin and I got talking and we forgot to come back."

Emmitt's mother nodded. "So are you two friends now?"

Emmitt hadn't really thought of it himself. "Um, I think so?"

"I'm glad. Well, get to sleep soon."

She watched her son shuffle in his chair.

"I love you, Emmitt."

"Love you too, mom."