Micah shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, his back pressing against the cool leather while his knee bounced up and down without a pause. He tried to sit still, but the nerves had gotten to him.
During the past week, his exchange with Clyde had dwindled down to just a few messages at night, always simple, always ordinary. Not once did either of them dare to voice that they missed each other. There were no sweet words. Just mundane things: how class went, whether Micah had eaten, what Clyde had cooked for himself. Nothing related to feelings.
Now, sitting beside Clyde again, Micah felt awkward. Almost like the closeness from last week had been nothing but a dream. A distant memory. Whatever fragile intimacy they had gained had retreated, bringing them back again to the starting point. It felt like an invisible wall as unbreakable as the Great Wall of China stood between them.
