As Usual, Except Today
School ended with the usual noise — chairs scraping, voices overlapping, bags slung over shoulders.
"Bye, Shelly! See you tomorrow!" Chris called, already halfway down the corridor.
Shelly laughed. "Try not to get punished again."
"No promises," he replied cheerfully.
Zack didn't wait.
He stepped out of the classroom and walked ahead, following the same route he always did, his pace steady and unhurried.
As usual.
"Hey—wait up!"
Chris jogged to his side, matching his steps with ease. They walked a few minutes in comfortable silence before Zack stopped in front of his house.
He reached into his bag.
Paused.
Checked again.
"…It's locked," he said.
Chris leaned closer. "Again?"
"And I don't have the key."
For a second, Zack expected annoyance — maybe frustration.
Instead, Chris's face brightened.
"That's great!"
Zack turned slowly. "Why are you happy?"
Chris grinned. "Because that means you're free. And when you're free, we get to hang out."
Zack frowned. "That logic doesn't make sense."
Chris laughed and grabbed his wrist. "Come on. Let's go."
"I didn't agree."
"You didn't disagree either."
Before Zack could respond, Chris was already pulling him along.
---
The road to the park felt longer than usual.
Chris filled it with noise — stories from class, jokes that didn't really have a punchline, exaggerated complaints about homework. He teased Zack for walking too straight, for holding his bag too carefully, for always looking like he was thinking about something important.
Zack responded with small sounds, occasional glances, the bare minimum required to keep Chris talking.
The park came into view just as the sky began to soften into late afternoon colors.
A group of boys were playing soccer on the field, their shouts echoing through the open space.
Chris slowed down. "Hey… remember when we used to play like that?"
Zack looked at the field.
"I guess," he said.
The ball rolled away from the group and stopped near Zack's feet.
"Pass it!" one of the boys shouted.
Zack stared down at the ball.
He didn't feel like kicking it.
He didn't feel like moving at all.
Chris stepped in instead, kicking the ball back smoothly.
"Nice!" someone said. "Wanna join us?"
Chris hesitated and glanced at Zack.
Zack shrugged. "Whatever. Go play. You're making me bored anyway."
Chris frowned. "I'm not making you bored."
The boys called again.
"…Alright," Chris said. "I'll be right back."
He ran toward them, laughter already spilling out as he joined the game.
---
Zack sat on a nearby bench and opened his book.
The pages felt heavier than usual.
He read a paragraph.
Then read it again.
His eyes drifted up on their own.
Chris was running across the field, hair messy, face flushed, shouting something happily as he chased the ball. The way he moved — loose, free — felt strangely distant.
Something uncomfortable settled in Zack's chest.
Not anger.
Not jealousy.
Just… something he couldn't name.
He looked back down at his book.
The words blurred.
---
"Okay," Chris said later, collapsing onto the bench beside him. "I'm officially dead."
Zack looked over. "You're back."
"Barely." Chris laughed breathlessly. "That was so fun. I forgot how tiring that gets."
Zack closed his book. "It's almost evening. We should go."
Chris wiped sweat from his forehead. "Yeah."
As they walked, the sun dipped lower, painting the road in soft orange light.
"Did you tell your parents where you are?" Zack asked.
Chris nodded. "Texted them. I said I'd be late."
Chris tilted his head. "Why don't you just keep an extra key for yourself?"
"I don't like it," Zack replied.
Chris laughed. "You're really a weirdo."
Zack didn't deny it.
They walked a little more before Chris spoke again. "Hey… until your parents are back, why not come to my place?"
Zack hesitated, then nodded.
---
Chris's house felt warm and familiar.
His parents greeted Zack with easy smiles.
"It's been a while," Chris's mom said. "You should come over more."
"…Yes, ma'am," Zack replied politely.
Upstairs, Chris's room looked exactly the same — posters slightly crooked, books stacked unevenly, the window half-open.
Zack stood there longer than he meant to.
A strange feeling washed over him.
Nostalgia? he wondered. I really haven't been here in a long time.
"You know," Chris said quietly, "you haven't come over in forever."
"…Yeah," Zack replied.
He smiled — small, unguarded.
Chris noticed.
For a second, he just stared.
A faint blush touched his cheeks.
"H-Hey," Chris said, turning away too quickly. "Zack, I was—"
Zack's phone buzzed.
Mom: We're home now. Sorry. Where are you?
"…Looks like I should go," Zack said.
"Oh." Chris hesitated. "Okay."
"You were going to say something," Zack added.
Chris opened his mouth, then closed it. "Nah. Forget it."
"…Thanks for letting me stay," Zack said. "I appreciate it."
Chris turned back, laughing. "Why are you being so formal? We're not strangers, idiot."
He pushed Zack toward the door. "Go already."
---
Outside, night had fully settled.
The moon hung low and bright, casting silver light across the yard. A cool breeze brushed past Zack as he adjusted his bag.
Suddenly, a soccer ball flew toward him.
"Yoo!" Chris called from behind. "Pass it! Or did you forget how?"
Zack paused.
Then he kicked it — clean, steady.
"Muscle memory," he said, smiling slightly. "Still works."
Chris's eyes lit up.
He ran over and hugged him without thinking.
"See? I knew it!"
"Hey—cut it out," Zack protested, embarrassed. "I have to go."
Chris laughed, stepping back. "You looked really cute just now."
"…What?" Zack sputtered. "Hey—stop that!"
The breeze carried their voices as Zack walked away under the moonlight.
Chris watched until he disappeared down the road.
Zack didn't look back.
But the smile stayed.