Madison smiled fondly, shaking her head goodnaturedly. “You’re good at plenty,” she said, light and sure as anything. “I never got why you bought into the idea that you weren’t.” Madison leaned back in her seat, gently unclipping the pins that were keeping her hair up as she thought.

“I don’t think going into business would make you happy,” she said after a few moments of consideration, “but I guess you could be good at it, especially if you focused more on the entrepreneurial aspect than the nine-to-five, live-and-die-by-the-stocks thing.” Madison shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair.

It was so easy. It was easier than it had any right to be. It was like picking up a conversation they’d been having five minutes ago, instead of over a year ago. Or…it wasn’t, because before, back then, she’d practically had to beat Crosby over the head to get him to listen to her, and now he was seeking her out. Randomly and in the middle of the night, which had been his M.O in high school, but it felt…different. More grown-up. 

He still looked like he belonged there - sitting across from her, pale eyes glinting in the light. It still felt like he belonged there.

“Have you thought about psychology?” Madison asked, leaning forward to take another cookie. “I know, emotional stuff wasn’t - wasn’t something you thought you were good at,” she said, holding up a hand in mock surrender, “but–you helped me.” She let that hang there for just a moment, then carried on, voice level and purposefully casual. “You have a way of…” Madison trailed off as she finished her cookie, then gave another little shrug. “I guess I should say had a way, but I’m sure you still do–of making these things that seem too big and too scary more…manageable. Therapy isn’t all about letting people cry on your shoulder, or it doesn’t have to be. It’s about helping people, and that’s all drug dealing is. Heck, if you become psychiatrist, you can still do that, just…legally, with a pharmacy involved.” 

Madison paused, a grin slowly spreading on her face. “Dr. Wilde. That’s got kind of a ring to it, don’t you think?”

“I’m a product of my environment.” He said with a shrug, though there was a smirk gracing his features. It was a cliche and he was mostly kidding, a fact he was sure she was aware of. She knew him surprisingly well when it came to that kinda thing.

“You too,” Madison chirped back over her shoulder, glad the dark of the house hid her blush as she led him through to the kitchen. She flipped on the light gestured toward the kitchen table. “Step into my office,” she said with an impish grin, before she toed the stepstool agains the cupboard and used it as a boost to kneel up on the counter.

After a few moments of rummaging, she pulled a mostly-full container of Oreos out and slid off the counter, grabbing a mug, two forks, and finally the half-gallon of milk from the fridge before she joined him at the table. She poured a glass of milk, slid the cookies between them, handed him a fork, and then grabbed a cookie and stuck her fork in the double stuf, creating a handle for less-messy dunking. “Don’t tell Mason,” was all she said, innocent grin on her face.

After a few moments of quiet, which Madison used to dunk her cookie and then pop it in her mouth, she rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand to look at him. She couldn’t believe that Crosby was really here, again; she couldn’t stop smiling. “So. Do they not have real guidance counselors in Philadelphia?” Madison asked, resting her chin in her hand as she gave him a teasing smile. “The situation must be pretty dire if you’re looking for my help,” she chuckled and shook her head; she didn’t know how much help he actually needed and how much it was a convenient excuse to visit her after all this time, but she wasn’t going to complain. “What are the options? We can whip up a good old fashioned pro/con list.”

Madison was still as sweet as ever. Was there an act as pure as getting cookies and milk together? He was charmed, the smile on his face evident of that fact, he couldn’t help himself. While parties and all the recreational activity that came with them were his usual source of entertainment, he eagerly took his fork, slipping it into the cookie the same way she did. “It’ll be our little secret.”

Sophomore year had been a blur. A happy, tumultuous blur, that ended with some of the people she loved the most stepping (or, in some cases, being shoved) into the next steps of their grand adventures. Carter graduated, and by some miracle Crosby did too, and the next year the rest of her boys followed in their footsteps. It had been hard, at first, to go back to being on her own, but she’d realized - slowly, the way you realize the most important things - that just because they were gone didn’t mean things would go back the way they’d been before. It couldn’t - she couldn’t. She’d realized that she hadn’t been left behind - she was being allowed to grow into whoever it was she was meant to be.

Madison was determined to make the most out of her senior year. Sure, college was on her mind all the time and she was more worried about finances than she’d ever been before, but between taking duel-credit classes at Lima Community and saving every penny she could from her job at the Lima Bean, she managed to find time to date, a little. To go to movies. To treat herself to spa days or library visits that had nothing to do with homework. She was determined to squeeze every inch of responsibilityless teenagerdom she had available into the last year of high school - because if she didn’t do it now, she never would.

So she said yes, when the second-string wide-receiver asked her out. She did her hair and got as dressed up as a first-and-probably-last date warranted, she let Mason have the car for the night, and she went to dinner and tried to find something in common with the boy across from her. That was what being a teenager was supposed to be, after all; it was just that she was under no illusion that this boy was her forever, and that made it so much easier to laugh at his stupid, memey joke.

Her laughter turned into a startled squeak when a voice emerged from the shadows of the house, but she didn’t even have time to form a word before she realized who it was.

It was like getting hit by a train. All her breath left her and she felt her eyes go wide - the boy on her arm, Mike, she heard him dimly ask who he was and Madison almost wanted to laugh. How could he not know? “Um, I’ll–I’ll see you at school,” Madison managed, absently patting Mike’s arm. “Thanks for dinner.” She knew it wasn’t the end of the evening Mike had been angling for, but she truly didn’t care. She didn’t dare take her eyes off Crosby, lest he vanish into a puff of smoke - she was distantly aware of Mike muttering something before he turned and left, and then they were alone.

At Crosby’s question, Madison just shook her head - while the answer was obviously ‘no one important’, it was enough to jog her back to her senses, and she closed the distance between them quickly and without hesitation, tugging Crosby into a tight hug. “Hi,” she said into his shoulder, staying there just long enough to be sure that yeah, no, this was real, he was here. When she pulled back to look at him in the half-light of the porch, she remembered, suddenly, how Crosby used to make her feel - the way she wanted to say everything at once, and how it never seemed like enough. That just made her smile grow wider, now - she wasn’t sixteen anymore (thank God), and she was (probably) capable of having a conversation around her surprise.

And then she realized she was staring. He looked - well, older, obviously, but still so familiar, it almost ached, like a bruise you didn’t remember earning. “Let’s go inside,” Madison said, smile not dimming as she stepped around him toward the front door. “And you can tell me what the heck you’re doing here.”

Crosby went from feeling nothing at all to feeling everything at once, his own emotions almost overwhelming him as she enveloped him into a hug. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, but the one he secretly hoped for, and he’d never admit it but he was so damn happy over it. “Hi.” He replied, a low chuckle escaping from his lips. He’d never been much of a hugger, but his usual rules never really applied to Madison, did they? “You look good.” He said it to break the silence, ease the nonexistent tension, stop her from staring, and honestly because he really freaking meant it. There was something different about her --she grew up. There was a sense of confidence in her that he wasn’t used to, the girl who all too often worried about who she was, her intensity, the things that made her Madison, she didn’t appear to question them now, and he was both proud of the girl and jealous he wasn’t there to witness it himself.

I know I normally look forward to work but after all that went down I am really looking forward to it. At least there I will be able to listen to music and draw in peace without having to hear about all this drama left and right. Hopefully at some point this week things will calm down.

The drama never calms down. You know what helps? Weed. Goes good with the music too.

Since it seems almost everyone is keeping up-to-date with the list and I wouldn’t mind extra cash to get me through the summer, you’re all welcome to sign up right here. No, but really. Isn’t this getting kind of old? Gossip Girl ended in 2012 and it seriously wasn’t good enough for a low-budget, real-life remake.

What are we signing up for?