Graduation 

October was way too late in the season to be running around the woods in shorts, but there they were, since what kind of teenage boys thought about that sort of thing anyway? Damian kicked at the sticks and rocks cluttering the trail, taking careful notice of the fading yarrow blooms that trailed along the path. “Alan,” he called to his friend, who was walking a few paces ahead of him. “The persimmons must be ripe by now.” It was more awkward than before, since they hadn’t been out much after Alan was hired to work at the warehouse.
“We can grab some tomorrow,” he said, without turning. Any other day, Damian would carry on and on about how persimmons were a somewhat rare forage, and they’d taste best now, just days after the first frost. Today, he felt he should hold his tongue. He couldn’t say why, but he felt tense anyway. 
Alan broke the silence as the path reached the clearing, marked by the grand 50-foot pine. “Do you need a lift?” He taunted, turning back to his friend. Damian, the shorter of the pair,  shot him a look and began looking for branches that would make good footholds, then began to scale the pine. Alan soon caught up. His wiry frame, compared to Damian’s short and stockier build, let him easily catch up to his friend. Damian kept crawling upwards. 
“You’re being weird,” Damian declared, not stopping, nor looking down. 
“How so?” said the nasally voice following him to the upper canopy, where the branches began to bend subtly under their weight. 
“I don’t know. Do you even want to be out here?” Damian asked, still not making eye contact. 
Alan spoke with a hint of annoyance at his question. “Of course I do, if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t have come. Why are you even asking?”
Damian had stopped climbing by then, and had perched on one of the sturdier branches, and begun picking around the bark where he had carved his initials years before. “You’ve been skipping. I mean, I don’t care, you can do what you want. I can come out here by myself.”
“Come on, that’s not fair. I’ve had work.”
“All you do is work anymore.” He continued picking at the bark. It would be a pain to wash the sap from his hands later, but he didn’t care about that now.
“This is the second time this week I’ve called off to hang out with you.”
“We used to come out every day,” Damian said pointedly.
“You’re being immature.”
“It’s almost winter!” 
“You’ll understand it when you’re older.” The bark around his initials was gone by now, and his hands were covered in the fragrant sap. 
“You’re only a year older than me. That doesn’t make you old and wise.” Damian hoisted himself up on the next branch.
“It makes me less of an immature brat. And those branches aren’t strong enough.” 
Damian ignored his warning and continued his ascent. “Can you stop? I’m just asking.” 
Alan sighed, knowing what was about to happen. “Well,  I already told you. You’re being a jerk about it.” He watched Damian, branch by branch, until one below his left foot snapped, and he pulled back sharply. 
“Told you so,” Alan said, as Damian began to climb back down.
“You’re a jerk for skipping.”
“You’re lucky I’m here at all! I’m losing money right now to hang out with a kid, and you don’t even appreciate it.”
“Shut up.”
And so Alan shut up. He knew Damian wouldn’t be convinced. He was obviously upset about him graduating, but what could either of them do? He’s so immature, Alan thought, but still stayed quiet. He dug into his bag and brought out two juice boxes. He tossed one up to his friend. “Thank you,” Damian said, without looking down. 
“There’s always springtime,” Damian said, finally looking at him. He knew what the answer meant and knew it wouldn’t change, but pushed regardless.
“Of course, man. I’m not saying, ‘Let’s never climb trees again, sorry!’ I’m just saying that it’s gonna get busy. And I’ve been picking up those warehouse shifts. I could always talk to the foreman if you wanted to get a job; it’d be good for you to start working. You’re plenty old enough-”
Damian tried his very best to make his voice sound warm and understanding. “No, I get it. Don’t worry about it.” He felt very bitter for a reason he couldn’t name. 
“We can come out in the spring,” Alan reassured him. “There’ll be more stuff to pick. What were the plants you were talking about the other day?” 
“Lots of stuff. Morels, ramps, ferns. You can eat all of those.” Damian felt defeated. He knew Alan didn’t care about the plants.
“Morels? Those are mushrooms, right?”
“Yeah. They don’t have a lot of poisonous look-alikes. Probably won’t kill you.”
Alan smiled at him, trying to cheer him up. “That’s a plus. And ramps?”
Damian looked away again. “They’re like leeks. They’re good.”
“Never had leeks. We’ll have to pick lots.” Alan put his empty juice box in his bag. Damian handed his over, though he hadn’t drunk any. “Sounds good.”
And so they sat there, neither choosing to look at the other, not daring to speak a word about the whole ordeal, since what kind of teenage boys thought about that sort of thing anyway? Alan turned to look at him once again. “You’re not mad, are you?”
Damian forced a small smile. “Not anymore. It was dumb, anyway.” He climbed down a few branches until they were on the same level. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asked, feeling dumb.
“See you then,” Alan replied, making his way back to the base of the tree.
When Alan climbed down, and they’d both muttered their see-you-tomorrows, Damian stayed a while longer, trying to make sense of it all. He was tired, and his mouth felt dry. He wished he'd kept the juice box. He watched as Alan walked back down the path, unbothered. Damian tried to think about the spring and how they’d pick all sorts of things, and maybe he’d take out his camera to capture the spring flowers. Whether Alan was there or not, he’d surely enjoy the warmer weather. 
All he could think about, though, was that the persimmons were going to rot.