How Green Becomes Wood

"That's true, I guess," Milo shrugged as he finished his ice cream, "It's just hard. I don't know what the equivalent would be to explain it. It was just, so much of my life for so long. It's something that I miss but it's weird to imagine choosing it."
 
"I understand," Alec said softly. "I fight it a lot, which isn't always healthy, but I understand it." Then, more brightly, he said, "But, like I said, it's probably never going to happen."
 
"We'd never gone on a road trip until our parents took us on one to the beach," Alec said quietly, "and without them, I don't think we ever would have gone on one. I'm honestly not sure we'll ever go on one again. It's not something that's ever been a part of our lives even less than you holding still in one place for long has been a part of yours. To us, a road trip is going from one side of the city to the other."
 
"Maybe not, but if they took you on one, I bet they'll take you on another one, right? And even if not, if you've done it once, you can do it again. I mean, you already suggested going on one, right?" Milo replied, "Xander has a car, so... travel is possible, if you want to go."
 
"It's not that simple for us, but thank you for your positivity," Alec smiled. "Maybe it'll happen. Anyway! What was the best part of everyone's first day back? And what was the worst?"
 
Milo wondered what made it different for them, especially given that their family clearly had some money, the twins both had their own source of income, even if it was small, and Xander already owned a car. From where he sat, it seemed the only things in Alec's way was mental, and he had already done it once. "I don't really have a favourite moment. My least favourite was the new history teacher interrogating me."
 
"Yeah, that was uncomfortable," Alec agreed.

"Die in your seat bizarre," Xander mumbled as he nibbled on his cone. "Lunch break was the best. That was the worst. Or the repetition of answering the same questions a thousand times."

"Art was the best!" Alec crowed happily.
 
"Depending on the school I go to, when I show up halfway through a year, teachers either force me to introduce myself or they're too busy and just shuffle me in." He ate the rest of his cone and then wiped his hands, "I hate it the most when they assign me a buddy."
 
"I had one here, but the school is good enough that the 'buddy' is only required to show you to your classes and around the school," Milo commented, "I've been to some where they're required to eat lunch with you for the first week or two."
 
One day, Milo thought, his friend would recognize that not every situation needed positivity and he was far too socially anxious to ever enjoy being forced to hang out with someome who was equally forced to spend time with him.

"If you've got the right temperament, I'll bet it is really fun, but I'm not really... the sort of person people like... being grouped with."
 
"Are you the sort of person that people do not like being grouped with, or are you the type of person who does not like being grouped with other people?" Alec asked as he licked the last of the ice cream off his fingers. "It's a pretty big difference. And it's okay if you don't like being with other people, it really is, but I like thinking of friendship possibilities. Even if I don't follow through. Possibilities bring hope!"
 
Milo looked at him for a few moments, "...Both, I guess." Turning his eyes away again, he said, "Unless the people I am placed with are content not to speak, I'm the weird, quiet kid nobody really knows. I'm not talkative, I'm not good looking, I don't have stories of what I got up to that weekend. I don't know how to reply to small talk. Most people don't like that. I don't like being put in groups, because I don't like being reminded that I'm the way I am. Sometimes I'd get lucky, because I'd be doing a group project on a subject I had covered in a different school, so they'd like me because I seemed really smart, but it was terrible when I didn't have the education they all had, and then I was quiet, weird, and stupid." He shook his head, "You're good at talking to people, it's something you enjoy. I'm not that way. I dread what you see possibility in, and there's nothing wrong with that. I don't have to find possibilities in it."
 
"Dude, quit harshing on yourself," Xander grumbled.

"I agree," Alec said. "I know you don't like hearing this, but I think it's important for you to hear: You are way too harsh on yourself, and I think Xander would agree with me when I say you tend to get too caught up in what could happen."

Xander pointed at Alec. "Nope, don't drag me into that. All I'm saying is Stitch here is far better than he allows himself to be. He ain't that weird, he's got a cool hobby, he sure ain't stupid, and he's a far sight from ugly. Beyond that, leave me out of your pep talk."

"Alright, that's fair," Alec admitted. "What I mean is, Milo, you are already looking for possibilities. You say you aren't, but you really are. You're just looking for the negative possibilities instead of the positive. You don't like being in groups. That's perfectly fine, lots of people are like that, but from what you say, the reason you don't like dealing with other people is because of the worst possible reasons and how other people react to you. Bad things happen, but they have a far greater chance of happening when you are expecting them to happen. Just like how if you look for good things, good things have a greater chance of happening. You don't have to like doing group projects and all that other stuff you mentioned, but wouldn't it feel better to you to be hopeful that good things would happen rather than dourly expecting the worst? And I'm not saying that as someone who likes talking to people. I hated talking to people and trying to find positives, I hated it, but I had to do it. I didn't have another choice. Then when I no longer had to do it, I found that I did like it, but I would never have tried or learned that I liked it if I hadn't pushed myself into doing it. I'm not saying that you'll ever like doing those things, our Ba hates doing those things, but maybe you will with practice, or at least it'll be less awful. I'm not saying you have to do this or like that. I'm not saying I want you to be a certain way. I'm saying I want you to feel better about yourself. Whatever you want to do or like or dislike, I want you to be happy in your own skin."
 
Shifting uncomfortably on the bench, Milo fought the urge to snap at them and say he didn't need them to try to solve his life. For one thing, he was fairly certain if he reacted too harshly to Alec, Xander would skin him and turn his hide into a football he'd then kick into the stratosphere, and anyway, he was a rational enough person to recognize when people were really just trying to be nice, but it made him so... angry. Bouncing his leg and staring tensely at the ground, his face feeling hot. If friendship was being pestered like this, he wasn't upset he had found it so difficult, because why couldn't he just express how he felt without having to justify it? Without being told how, actually, he should just stop thinking the way he thought, and stop feeling the way he thought, and just be so, so, so, happy and cheerful, because everybody needed to be happy and cheerful. Like his grandparents telling him to smile.

Unlike Xander, who took his feelings and flung them back out, when Milo spoke, he sounded distant, "You're not a therapist," his voice was quiet and didn't match the way he fidgeted, "and you're not mine. I'm not--" He stopped himself again, but he wasn't even sure what he was going to say next. I'm not like you? I'm not overthinking this, I was telling you my lived experiences? I'm not your project? Your charity case? "Thanks for the ice cream. I think I'm going to call my grandparents."
 
Alec sighed. "I'm sorry I made you mad. I'm not trying to be your therapist, I'm trying to... Oh, never mind. I promise I will never tell you anything ever again." He stood and walked toward the van. "Just get in the van and we'll take you back. I won't say another word."

Xander studied Milo for a moment. "You can be mad, but thanks for not yelling at him. He worries about you." He stood. "Seriously, though, lemme give you a ride back. You already told your grands I would, right?"
 
Shoulders slumped, Milo murmured barely louder than a whisper, "I'm not normally a yeller." This was awful. All he wanted was for everybody in his life to stop trying to mold him into something else, life was hard enough already without needing to wonder if he was about to do or say something that would make people once again provide unasked for feedback. And yet, somehow, despite constantly being told to speak up for himself, when he did, the reaction so often seemed like annoyance. So was he supposed to speak up or not? Why bother telling him to find his voice if they didn't like what he said?
 
Xander waited patiently for Milo, still standing by the table. He wasn't going to leave him here. If Milo refused a ride, he'd wait until Milo's grandparents showed up, but he still expected to be giving Milo a ride. Alec stood waiting by the van.
 
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