60. The Cutest Things

-Sky-

"You have glue in your hair," Max said with a smirk.

"Of course I do," I sighed, but I still couldn't stop smiling. I carefully put the tiny log in its place, holding it still for long enough for it to stick before letting go of it. Then I leaned back to admire my work.

Scale model! Our! Own! Scale model! Of our house! That we designed together! That was probably not the most convenient house there was, but still!

Since we were pretty much done with our biology project – all we could do anymore was to check up on the owls – Max had started teaching me how to make a scale model from scratch, just like he promised. And it was fun! First, we started by making the blueprint and sketches for it, and I found out Max was really good at drawing. I was actually shocked I didn't know that, even though I had seen tons of drafts of houses and landscapes in his room. I just... kind of... assumed they weren't his... I was such a bad boyfriend! I just went and assumed he had collected them all, like he had collected posters and books.

I looked around in the basement that had been turned into Max's workshop. Our scale model was on a big table in the middle of the room. There were shelves on the walls, some were empty, some had other models on display. Every inch of the basement was covered with Max's sketches. Some of them were cute little drawings he made as a child, and from there, the older he got, the better and more accurate the pictures were, and the latest ones looked like a professional had made them.

"You're spacing," Max cooed in my ear, making me jump. He had been standing on the other side of the table! When did he move next to me?!

"Spacing?" I muttered, feeling my cheeks turning red. The color continued turning darker when Max placed his hands on my hips, pressing the lightest kiss on my neck.

"Spacing out," he said softly. "You do that a lot."

"Sorry..." I muttered. "I just... sometimes... I lose track of time when I start thinking stuff..."

"Oh? What were you thinking now?" Max asked.

"You," I said shyly without looking at him.

"But I'm right here," he chuckled, and hugged me.

I laughed as well and turned my attention back to the model. We were still doing the framework of the first floor. We had some tiny beams ready for the second floor as well, but it was too early to continue building the upstairs. We had spent hours making it already, but Max had told me it would take a hundred hours, or even more, to get it done. I was excited about it, because it meant the fun wouldn't be over anytime soon.

And it was fun! Creating something, even for fun, was, well, fun! I never knew I had some creativity in me, but this little project of ours had brought it up. We had big piles of sticks and other stuff to use as material, and Max even had tiny tables, chairs, carpets and other stuff in stock, so we could decorate it once it was done! And trees! Grass! Small stones and bushes and he even promised we could order more if we ran out of stuff! The base we used to build the model on had a lot of room for a garden, which was great, since I had a lot of ideas for it.

But the best part, the thing that really made it so awesome, was how happy Max got whenever I asked for his advice or opinion, or when I just listened quietly while he told me stories about his favorite buildings and architects.

Max leaned his head on my shoulder, but removed his hands to grab a bottle of glue and a new stick. I watched him pour a small amount of glue on it before putting it right next to the one I had just placed on the model. He waited until it stayed in its place on its own, and then grabbed a towel to wipe off a tiny, excess drop of glue.

"It's going to be so awesome," I said, when Max returned his hands to my stomach.

"Yup," he said, and kissed my cheek. "Let's pick up the pace so we'll get this done before dinner," he said, pecked my cheek again, and stepped away from me.

"Yes!" I chirped, and took the glue. We finished the framework of the living room and the kitchen just in time before Mrs. Peterson came downstairs.

"Ohh, would you look at that!" she said with a happy expression. "You've made a lot of progress!"

I knew I was beaming like an idiot, but I didn't actually care. Mostly because Max had that same expression on his face as well. With him, I didn't need to worry about coming off as the biggest geek on earth, because he didn't mind, and sometimes, he was just as horrible as me.

I watched Max presenting the house to her – now that we actually had something that resembled a house. It was clear she knew almost as much about scale models as Max, and he'd told me she learned to use the tools, like a power saw, just so Max could build his treehouse. She still didn't let Max operate the power tools on his own, and had told us to come get her whenever we needed to use them. So far, we managed with the materials Max already had, so we didn't need to touch them.

"It looks really nice," Mrs. Peterson finally said with a bright smile. "It makes me happy you like this too," she added, talking to me as she walked to one of the shelves, taking one of the scale models from it.

"It's such a great hobby. Max taught me as well. This is my own little fantasy house," she said, bringing the model to the table.

It was still far from finished, but I could already tell why she called it 'fantasy' house. It was clearly inspired by fairies. There was a thin, wooden log in the middle of the base, surrounded by three, small houses. One of them had two stories, and the rest had only one, and they all had cute, crooked windows and perfectly round doors. The tallest one was almost ready, and it had small spots of colorful paint all over it, like Mrs. Peterson was trying to decide what colors she wanted to use.

"It's so cute!" I said, and her smile got a proud hint.

"I've been working on it for... six months?" she said, wiping some dust off the log. "I want a fourth house on top of this branch, and tiny lights behind the windows. I was hoping I'll get it done by Christmas, but there's still a lot to do."

"There's still time," Max said. "I could help, but since you're so determined on doing it on your own..."

"Nope! Mine! My precious!" Mrs. Peterson spoke in a fake-maniacal voice, hugging her creation protectively.

Max and I both laughed, and she smirked.

"Dinner is ready in ten minutes, so you should start finishing up here," she said, and picked up her tiny village, putting it back on the shelf.

"Okay," Max said, and put a cork back on the glue.

Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting in the dining room, and I had just realized how hungry I was. I was basically hogging food on my plate, but so did Max. We had spent the entirety of that Sunday working on the scale model, and we both had been too immersed in it to even think about food.

The topic of the conversation was, of course, the model, but at some point, it changed.

"I talked with your mom earlier today," Mrs. Peterson said to me. "About the camping trip."

I almost choked on the pasta we had for dinner. I had tried so hard not to think about the camping trip during the past couple of weeks because I always ended up squealing like a crazy person in my excitement, not able to even breathe.

"Are you trying to kill him?" Max asked with a half worried and half amused tone when I started coughing. He patted my back until I could breathe again.

"Dear Lord, no! Don't make jokes like that!" Mrs. Peterson said with a horrified tone.

"What did you talk about?" I asked, trying to sit still and act like a normal human being, even though I felt like exploding.

"I just wanted to know what you need to take with you, and she said I should ask you to check the stuff Max already has so we can go buy new ones if they're not good enough."

"Well, the only bigger investment I can think of is a good backpack for hiking, with chest and stomach straps and all. Since we will spend five days walking around, it should be comfortable to use, have enough space and still be light to carry. Also, it needs to be good quality, so it won't break or cause back problems or anything. I can give you a list of personal stuff you should take with you, like toothbrush and all that, but the boots and the sleeping bag you have are good," I spoke, and would have continued if I didn't realize I was blabbing on and on.

"A good backpack," Mr. Peterson said with a nod. "I think you need to come with us to make sure we buy the right one," he added with a chuckle. "Back when I was in boy scouts, we didn't have much to choose from."

"That's a great idea," Mrs. Peterson said. "We could go next week, when we all have free time."

"Yeah, and you can then use it when we go see the owls," I told Max. "You'll see then if it fits."

"Sure," he said with a smile before stuffing his face with more food.

I spent one more hour at Peterson's. We talked about the trip and what Max would need to take with him – well, I did the talking while the Petersons took notes – but then my dad came to pick me up. It was always sad to leave Max, and it didn't matter that I had spent the entire weekend at his place, and only went home to sleep.

My dad exchanged a few words with Max's parents before I had to say goodbye to my boyfriend. I knew I would see him first thing in the morning, so I didn't let myself feel too bad about having to leave. I didn't do much when I got home, just checked my homework and made everything ready for school, before taking a shower and getting ready for bed.

And when I fell asleep, I had dreams about fairy houses and oversized hiking bags.

*****

The next morning, I surprised pretty much everyone, including myself, by being five minutes early waiting for the bus. When it finally came – another five minutes late – I climbed on, and made my way to the back, where I saw Troy and Luke sitting side by side.

I still had a splint on my leg – Mom made me wear it, even though it was almost fully healed – but the crutches were long gone. It was nice to be able to walk normally again, especially in the crowded bus, on the narrow aisle. I said hi to a couple of people, who called my name on my way to the back, and sat down in the row in front of Luke and Troy.

"Good morning," I chirped.

"Morning," Troy smiled, while Luke grunted something incoherent. "Oh, come on!" Troy chuckled at him, nudging his side gently.

Luke's eyelid twitched when he took a deep breath and looked at me. "Morning."

"Not a Monday person?" I guessed with a smirk.

"Not a weekday person," Luke murmured with a hissy voice. "My first class is after lunch..."

"Why are you here then?" Troy asked with wide eyes. "I'd be home sleeping if I were you!"

"I have stuff to do..." Luke grunted.

"Stuff?" Troy asked with a frown. "What stuff?"

"Stuff," he sighed in an annoyed manner.

Troy rolled his eyes and crossed arms over his chest. "Fine..." he said so quietly I couldn't actually hear it, but read it on his lips. He wasn't looking at Luke, so he missed it when Luke took a short glimpse at him. I had never seen such an awkward but cute couple before. I felt sad when Luke turned to look down at his hands, clearly feeling bad because Troy was ignoring him, before looking out of the window. Then Troy peered at Luke, who didn't notice it, before turning to talk to one of his teammates with a hint of sadness in his eyes. Even his voice was quieter than usual.

"How's Bella?" I asked to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Glued to my feet," Luke said, and turned to look at me. "Thanks again for taking care of her."

"It was no trouble at all. She's an amazing dog," I told him with a reassuring smile.

"That she is," Luke said, and it almost looked like he was smiling.

For the next couple of minutes, I told him more about how it went with Bella. Even Troy tuned in. By the time Max joined us, it seemed like Luke and Troy were back to speaking terms.

"Good morning," Max purred to me, and took my hand in his. "How's it going?"

"Absolutely great," I said happily, leaning against his shoulder.

"How are you guys?" Max asked, turning to look back at the awkward duo.

"Fine, fine," Troy smiled, and once again, Luke merely grunted without even looking in our direction.

"Okay then," Max said and gave his attention to me. "I checked the model before leaving home. It dried nicely over the night."

"Good," I said.

Once the bus arrived at school, we got out and made our way to the main entrance. Max and I were still talking about the scale model, but Luke and Troy were being quiet. I started feeling bad about it, so I decided to change the subject.

"So, you guys have practice after school?"

"Yeah," Max nodded.

"If I'm still on the team..." Luke murmured, and we all turned to look at him. "Coach wasn't happy I left for three weeks," he explained, surprising us all by doing so – it was odd he explained anything if we didn't nag about it.

"Of course you are," Max said. "Coach won't replace you now. We have only two weeks left before the game."

Luke shrugged without saying anything.

"Let's not talk about the game, shall we? It makes my stomach hurt," Troy begged, holding his hand on his side.

"Are you nervous?" I asked.

"Understatement," Troy chuckled.

We stepped into the school and continued walking to the second floor. Luke was still following us, and I wasn't the only one who noticed it.

"So, Luke, where are you heading?" Troy asked with such an uncaring voice it had to be fake.

"I'm just tagging along – I'm not in a hurry," Luke said with a shrug.

"Oh," Troy said, falling silent.

We walked in silence for a few moments, but then...

"For god's sake! What stuff?!" Troy suddenly whined, grabbing Luke's hand.

"What stuff?" Luke repeated, coming to a halt.

"You said you have stuff to do," Troy said in a demanding voice. "What stuff?"

Luke stared at him for a moment with a deep frown. "Just, stuff. Studying for the entrance exam and for the finals. You know, stuff."

"O-Oh," Troy said, and let go of his hand. "That stuff..." he muttered and continued walking pretty hastily. We all followed him, but when we caught up with him, he stopped again and turned around. "You could've done that at home," he said to Luke.

"What's going on?" Luke asked, sounding like he was getting fed up with the interrogation.

"Nothing," Troy said, and turned his back on us.

I looked at Max, who shrugged at me. I suddenly realized the awkward and cute relationship would actually be a bit more flammable than I'd first thought.

Luke scoffed shortly and marched after Troy. We watched him grab Troy by his arm and then drag him into a restroom close by. Max followed them, and I followed him, meaning to stop him from sticking his nose in their business, but thankfully, he stopped by the door. I slid to a halt next to him and grabbed his arm, about to pull him away. Luke opened all the stalls, checking no one was around, before he turned to look at Troy.

"I came early today, so I can sit with you on the bus. I do that every morning, even when I don't have morning classes," Luke spoke almost angrily. "All right?"

Troy opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before he uttered, "O-oh..."

"Oh, indeed," Luke said, and sighed. "I told you I use the bus so I can see you."

"You... you didn't say anything about coming too early..." Troy mumbled. Then his eyes shot open, and he bit his upper lip.

"Oh, no you didn't..." Luke sighed and chuckled.

"No, no, no!" Troy gasped.

"You have the sense of humor of an eight-year-old," Luke said.

"Coming too early!" Troy repeated and burst out laughing.

Luke rolled his eyes, but he smiled, stepping closer to Troy, who placed his hands on his shoulders for support when his laughing fit intensified. Luke's smile grew wider, and he watched Troy with such warmth in his eyes I felt ridiculously happy for him. Max and I kept watch, so no one would come to interrupt their moment.

It took Troy a while to start calming down, but lucky for us, we still had plenty of time before the first class started. By the time his laugh had turned into a quiet chuckle, he was resting his head on Luke's shoulder, with arms wrapped around him. Luke was holding him just as tightly, caressing his back soothingly.

Just a moment later, Troy looked up at him, still smiling widely. "I missed you last night," he muttered quietly, which was a cue for me and Max to take a hike. Just before we closed the door, I could see Troy getting up on his toes and pressing his lips on Luke's.