They looked him up and down, seeming to stare into his soul. Whether to distract himself or to try to make them seem more friendly, he asked, “Can I get your names..?”
The pigtailed friend scoffed. “Of course you’d ask something like that.”
“Ask… for a bit of politeness..?”
“Trying to poke your nose in places it doesn’t belong.” To Milo, she added, “Seriously, you couldn’t think of anyone better than this? All he’s done is said five words and I’m already thinking the kid just needs to go home.”
The black-haired friend nodded. “Reminds me of you when you first got here—ignorant and stupid. He’s better off running back home to his parents.”
“Hey, I wasn’t that bad,” Milo grumbled, as if that was the biggest problem. “Alexei’s his own kind of innocent.” There was something strange about the way he said innocent—almost the same way he’d talk about things that sparked his jealousy, back when they were younger. Was it… really because of Alexei? Either way, Milo seemed to remember the original line of conversation, because he continued, “That’s what makes him so good for this. No one’s going to suspect anything off.”
“A lot more generic than the four of us, anyway,” the nearly-bald friend remarked. They looked Alexei over again and, even though nothing had changed, seemed a bit more satisfied with what they saw. “My bet’s placed on the fact this kid is going to be able to do it. Best chance we have, anyway.”
Milo nodded, seeming rather proud of himself. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Looking back at Alexei—who was growing more wary of the whole thing by the second—he prompted, “Do you remember how we used to do errands for Pop’s older friends? Back when that grumpy old lady ran the farmer’s market. We always had to rush in and out before she noticed we were there and blame us for something we didn’t do.”
Because you had done it, once, was what Alexei immediately thought of. Milo did a lot of things without thinking, just because they seemed funny at the moment; that poor farmer’s market lady was rather frequently the target of new tricks. He had stolen something from her once—an almost-bad apple, he’d said she would’ve thrown it away anyway—and later tied all the wheels of the carts together—alright, until the vendors tried to go home, and they dragged others with them.
But Milo always did have a vaguely selective memory, so Alexei knew there wasn’t any point in bringing it up.
Instead, he slowly nodded.
“This is going to be just like that,” Milo continued. “We’ve got to get something, but we’ve got to be quick, and we’re going to be stuck there a while if we get caught.”
Alexei finally forced himself to point out, “It sounds like you’re trying to steal something.”
“Damn, even a kid would’ve shut up and started playing along by now,” the pigtailed friend grumbled.
“I don’t think stuff like that is helping anything,” Milo whispered back. He nudged her, but it didn’t seem to change her mind any. Acknowledging that, he turned his attention back to Alexei. “I promise, it isn’t that bad.”
He waited for something else, but there was nothing. No more assurances, no more explanations. So he prompted, “Will you tell me what it is, then?”
“Just a box. A regular, normal old box. Probably doesn’t have anything but papers inside.” But Milo didn’t look him in the eye when he said it, so he had to have been hiding something.
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“I know you’re lying.”
“And I know you’re going to go along with it anyway. So why are we still talking?” Milo sighed and offered a fake smile. “Look, this is one of the only times we’re going to be able to spend some time together. We can go and get something to eat and chat once we’re done, alright? It’ll be just like old times.”
Alexei didn’t want to. He knew he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t take even a bit of effort to go and walk away. He could just ignore all of this. Go home, tell his parents that he thought Milo was doing something wrong, and then leave the rest of it to them. That was it. But… then Milo would be alone. It wasn’t like he’d simply give up if Alexei didn’t agree; he’d do it anyway, and he wouldn’t have anyone there to protect him. No one to keep him from doing something dumber. Telling either of their parents wouldn’t do anything except have someone wait up for him and yell at him when he got home.
And right now, Alexei wasn’t really sure that Milo was going to come home. It was a gut feeling that he had—that this was bad, and he’d regret what he did either way.
So despite all of the logic telling him to leave, he nodded. “Alright, but I’m only doing this to keep you out of more trouble. And we’ve got to go chat once we’re done. I’m not doing this for you just for you to disappear on me again.”
Milo’s black-haired friend nudged Alexei on the shoulder. “That’s more like it! Let’s get going and do something that’s actually exciting. And since this didn’t take all afternoon, you know what? Ice cream’s on me.”
The pigtailed friend’s eyes sparkled. “Oh! Then what are we waiting for? Come on, new guy, we’ve got to go to the next town over. Everything will be done before you even have time to think about it!”
…
Milo’s friends were far ahead of them, talking about something Alexei couldn’t hear. Honestly, even if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d understand what they were talking about—they were jumping from topic to topic, usually things that, even if he had a vague idea of what they were talking about, had no knowledge to add. Honestly, while it was reassuring to see them in a normal situation… he wasn’t sure it was quite so normal. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but it almost seemed like they were talking in code. There was something they knew he didn’t know, and that’s what most of their conversation revolved around. But he was in a little too deep to walk away now, and he’d already failed to take the multitude of chances he’d been given to leave.
“Don’t you want to be with them?” Alexei eventually asked after a while of silence, looking at Milo and gesturing towards his friends. “You don’t have to keep me company if you don’t want to. I get it if you want to hang out with someone cooler or more interesting or… whatever else you see in them.” He was almost about to add no offense, as if Milo would’ve cared what anyone thought of his friends, and if he would’ve changed anything if he knew.
Instead, though, Milo took the conversation in a completely different situation. “Is that what you think is why we lost touch? Because I didn’t think you were cool or whatever?”
“Maybe.” The words came out so quietly, Alexei wasn’t really sure if he’d said them at all. In fact, he was about to cover them up with either a lie or a confirmation—he hadn’t been sure yet, and would’ve gone with whatever came out first—when Milo responded.
“Trust me, you’re amazing. One of the best friends I”ve ever had, and that’s including these guys. If things were just a bit different… there wouldn’t be a need for this. We’d still be running around like we were kids, because nothing would’ve come between us.”
“And what would’ve needed to be done differently? To just have us trapped as kids forever?”
“No, we still could’ve grown up. I’m not dumb enough to consider that as ever being an option. It’s just… there was a bridge along the way. I took it, but you stayed over on the other side. And then the river between us got bigger and bigger, with no other boats or bridges or anything to reach over to the other side.”
“I’ve pretty much never known you to start throwing out metaphors. What’s all of this about?”
“Maybe… maybe I’m second guessing some things, some choices. I know that I don’t want to drag you into this any more than I already am—I really hope this is the end of what you have to do—but I miss being together. But there’s no easy way out for me, either.”
“Milo, you’re starting to freak me out a little. Is something wrong? Are you doing something dangerous? You don’t have to stay in an unsafe situation. I don’t want you trapped somewhere. If there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”
Milo looked surprised at first, then he let out a sad laugh. “Sorry, Alexei, but I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help. I chose this, after all, and neither of us were raised to be quitters.”