chapter 6:A Memory Shared

Caesar didn't know when it happened, but Blythe had become part of his daily routine.

She found him in the hallways. Sat next to him in class. Dragged him into random conversations.

And now, she was pestering him again.

"Hey, wanna go somewhere after school?" she asked, leaning on his desk.

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"Still no."

Blythe sighed dramatically, flopping into the seat beside him. "Come on, it's nothing weird. Just a walk. Fresh air, relaxation, the usual."

Caesar glanced at her suspiciously. "No tricks?"

"No tricks," she assured, holding up her hands in mock surrender.

He hesitated.

Normally, he'd refuse without a second thought. But something about the way she asked made it hard to say no this time. Maybe because, despite all her teasing, Blythe had a way of making things feel… less heavy.

"…Fine," he muttered.

Blythe beamed. "Knew you'd say yes."

---

The sky was clear as they walked through the park near the school. The air carried the crispness of early evening, and the sun cast long shadows across the pavement.

For once, Blythe wasn't talking much. She just walked beside him, hands stuffed in her hoodie pockets.

It was… nice.

No forced conversations. No need to fill the silence. Just the steady rhythm of their steps against the ground.

"You don't talk about yourself much," Blythe said eventually.

Caesar kept his eyes ahead. "Not much to say."

Blythe scoffed. "Liar. Everyone has a story."

Caesar exhaled. He should've known she wouldn't let it go so easily.

A part of him wanted to keep quiet. To brush it off like he always did. But another part… wanted to say something.

"I keep having this dream," he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Blythe tilted her head. "A nightmare?"

"Not exactly." Caesar's fingers curled into fists in his jacket pockets. "It's about my dad."

Blythe didn't respond right away. She just waited. Letting him speak at his own pace.

Caesar took a slow breath. "I was a kid in the dream. My dad was calling me, saying he had something to show me."

Blythe walked a little closer, her gaze steady but gentle.

"It was a necklace," he continued. "A simple one, with a blue pendant. He said it symbolized calmness and serendipity."

"Sounds like something a dad would say," Blythe said softly.

Caesar gave a small, almost sad smile. "Yeah. I remember complaining, saying I thought it was something bigger."

Blythe chuckled. "Typical kid reaction."

Caesar nodded.

Then, his smile faded.

"It's the same dream every time. But when I wake up, reality hits. He's gone."

Blythe's expression softened, and for once, she didn't have a witty response.

"You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready," she said gently.

Caesar looked down, scuffing his shoe against the pavement.

"I think I should," he murmured.

He took a deep breath.

"Because I remember the day he died."

---

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than anything he'd said before.

Caesar kept his gaze on the ground, bracing himself.

"It was a normal day," he started. "Or at least, it felt that way."

Blythe said nothing, just listening.

"My dad and I were supposed to go out that evening. He promised we'd play basketball at the park. It was our thing." Caesar's jaw tightened. "But I got distracted. My friends asked me to stay longer after school, and I figured… he'd wait."

His breath hitched slightly, but he forced himself to keep going.

"When I finally got home, my mom was on the phone. Her face was pale. Shaking." He swallowed hard. "There was an accident. A car crash. Someone ran a red light."

The sound of the wind rustling the trees filled the silence between them.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Blythe's footsteps slowed, and before he realized it, she had stopped walking entirely.

Caesar stopped too, suddenly feeling exposed. He had never told anyone this before. Not in full.

His hands curled into fists. "I should've been there earlier. I should've just gone home like I said I would."

"Caesar," Blythe said quietly.

He didn't look at her. Couldn't. He hated the way his voice wavered, the way his throat tightened with something he refused to name.

Then, suddenly, he felt something warm against his hand.

Blythe's fingers, curling around his.

Caesar tensed. It was such a simple gesture, but it nearly unraveled him.

"It wasn't your fault," she said, her voice steady, certain.

He let out a slow breath. "It feels like it was."

"I know," Blythe murmured. "But it wasn't."

Caesar swallowed, his grip loosening, but he didn't pull away.

For a long moment, they stood there, the world moving around them, but them standing still.

And for the first time in a long time… Caesar didn't feel so alone.

---

To Be Continued…