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Chapter Text

Farkle spent half of his summer in Miami, and the other half in South Hamptons. Both houses had distinctive architectural styles, one modern and blocky, and the other was a shingled cape cod.

He spent this time against his will as his parents wanted to get out of the city,

“No one actually stays in New York City during the summer.” His Father once said. His friends all stayed in the city, they would post pictures of group outings going to Coney Island during a hot summer day or eating ice cream at Topanga’s.

He couldn’t complain as his parents didn’t tolerate back talk. He would try to interact with other kids his age at varies different parties and social functions but they never seemed to have anything in common. It seemed they all were classmates at Exter, St.Andrews, La Rosey or some other old money named oligarch prep school.

“I go to school in the city.” Farkle would say as vaguely as possible.

“I have a friend that goes to Dalton, Franklin Mann?” Some girl asked at a midsummer Hamptons social gathering.

“He’s probably in a different grade.” Farkle would steer the conversation off himself. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed of going to public school, he just didn’t want to upset his dad. Despite being one of the richest families at any party, people who came from old money looked down on those whom were new money and thus, less connected. It was so absurd to Farkle, he would always roll his eyes- or at least in his head- when his dad would prep him in the car on how to act.

Farkle only enjoyed three things during the summer. Firstly he enjoyed swimming in the fresh water pool at their Miami house. His skin got hives from chlorine, so he never could swim in normal pools growing up. Secondly, the summer camp or program he usually went to in late July, this year it was a science research fellowship at Stanford.

Lastly, it was the two seven day periods at the start and middle of summer he got to spend with his friends. He waited till those days, till he was back in New York with them.

These three things are what held him together during the long and boring summers. The awkward social events, creeping existential dread and his parents disagreements, if you could call them that, could be tolerated.

The summer was nearing it’s end. All he had left was the pool and one more party. A couple more days until he could return to the routine of school. He liked the rhythm school provided. School, with his friends and teachers provided something static in a universe always changing, moving and crashing into oneself. John Quincy Adams was a constant that persisted, and was untouched from the realities of the universe.

Farkle swam back and forth from one end of the pool to the other. Only coming up for air at each wall. After a couple laps, he swam to the side of the pool facing the house. Pulling his phone from under a towel, and setting his forearms on the edge of the pool.

“I see someone is in the pool again.” His father approached, dressed in all white.

“I wanted to get in a few more times before we leave on Monday.” Farkle responded, flicking the hair out of his face. He was scheduled for a haircut, his hair dry almost covered his eyes.

“Jennifer picked out a few white things that she wants you to wear. You should shower soon.” His dad gestured to the house but before he could come up, Farkle needed one more moment of peace.

The average human can hold their breath anywhere from one minute to a minute and a half without any lasting damage. After around that threshold, oxygen deprivation starts to take place and gradual unconsciousness happens. Farkle seemed to push this threshold, in his own experiment of how long can Farkle hold his breathe?

Ten seconds in he felt minimal pain. Twenty, he started to have the urge to swim back up. Thirty, he needed to discipline himself. Forty, he could start to feel the burn. He kept telling himself he could stay down longer. Fifty, he felt the oxygen deprivation creeping in.

Pushing his legs against the pool floor, he popped up, gasping. Nothing, not even drowning was as suffocating as his manner of living. Balboa was drowning, yet his story had been already been written.

Chapter Text

AP Calculus AB, American History, AP Physics 2, AP Biology, AP Human Geography, AP Language and Composition, and Art 1. Nothing in his schedule wasn’t advanced other than History. He needed it that way.

Arriving to school, Farkle like always was hesitant to tell his friends about his summer. He opted to listen. Maya had really pursued her art, working on a collection all summer in her new apartment she moved into with her mother and new father. Zay and Lucas were traveling for baseball, and Lucas bragged he was already getting some looks from college coaches. Zay told Lucas be cool as he wasn’t bragging about it, Zay mouthed something to him but he didn’t understand it. Smackle had been at the Stanford research fellowship so they had already gotten a chance to catch up.

Riley was the only one to ask, “How was your summer Farkle?”

“Oh yah. How does it feel to be slumming it with us again?” Maya asked jokingly.

“It was alright, I missed you guys.” Farkle smiled, feeling the warmth of his friends.

“Did you hear that. Our little rich boy missed us.” Maya said, punching him in arm.

The first couple weeks of school were prefect. He spent all his time at Topanga’s as everyone was still in their honeymoon stage in regards to school and homework.

His partnership with Isadora was in full blossom as they alined their goals together. Debate team, Science bowl, Robotics club and a new club called, Research club. They would connect students with local organizations and colleges to sponsor/ mentor research projects.

While working away on his own research, which he had been connected with Columbia university for, he could hear a muffled sound in the kitchen. Deciding not to investigate, he quickly plugged in his headphones and turned whatever song he had queued to full blast. Not today would he drown, he had disciplined himself to be able to hold his breath. This only exacerbated the suffocation process.

Walking on sand feels nice but the rocks and shells that line the beach’s shoreline reminds us to stay alert.

Farkle walked to the subway with the same feeling of the rocky sands and waters. If he told his friends he was at the beach, they would laugh it off. He was hypervilgant during the day but depersonalized during the night. Maybe he was a robot? Switching off during the night before turning back on in the morning.

He saw his friends worried faces in moments of catatonic glassy eyed stares. Zay was the first to ask,

“You seem tense bro. Don’t you got like a massager person on standby?” Zay followed him closely behind.

“It’s called a masseuse.” Farkle said light heartily.

“Your moose person-“ Zay tried to say before Farkle cut in

“That’s not even close.” Farkle let out a small smile along with what can best be described as a giggle?

“See that’s what I’m talking about.” Zay said, only to Farkle’s confusion.

“Your not the witty Farkle I know, your not even ripping on Matthews. You love the back and forth.” Farkle did agree with Zay, he did love the back and forth.

Zay contuined once more, “But now your just, I dont know, whatever it was i just miss it.”

“I will try and find it again, I guess?” Farkle persist lips together in a almost annoyed way but he wasn’t, he was the opposite. He was intrigued with the notion that his constant methods of self preservation, even at differing levels of attachment, might be impacting his social behavior and ability to socialize normally.

After that, he walked with Zay to his class. They exchanged a few light hearted quips and jokes before parting ways. Zay might not to the brightest academically, but Farkle knew Zay had a skill for reading people that he needed to trust.

Chapter Text

The first of October felt like a relief. The burn of September was gone. Nothing like fall in New York.

Isadora and Farkle sat on rock in Central Park during the weekend, reading old science fiction books. Today the book of musing was Odd John by Olaf Stapledon. Sometimes Isadora would lay her head on his lap and he would read out loud. He worried if his boney legs would be comfortable for her head and if the speed of his voice was too slow or too fast, he could never tell. He read from the old paper back, ‘The important thing was that, when I did see the stars (riotously darting in all directions according to the caprice of their own wild natures, yet in every movement confirming the law), the whole tangled horror that had tormented me finally presented itself to me in its truth and beautiful shape. And I knew that the first, blind stage of my childhood had ended.

Smoothies became teas and ice cream became danishes and warm pastries. It was the cycle of life- or just capitalist.

Everyone seemed to get closer during this time but he only kept pulling away. He was scared of the change that was coming, not just the winter but the thought of not protecting himself or being vulnerable to the cold, the rejection.

Isadora said to him on the rock,
“I need to tell you something.”

Farkle asked “What?” Putting the paper back down, and dog earring the page.

“I think we should have sex.” Farkle was taken a back. Smackle sat up, confused at Farkle’s reaction.

“We’re a couple. We have kissed, Isnt it a natural progression?” Isadora seemed to look on the more logical side of the subject. Having sex was a natural progression but not everyone followed the same linear progression.

“I really want to want it but I just dont think I’m ready for anyone to see me.. nude.” Farkle had grown red, embrassed that he wasnt ready and the fact he didnt want to admit he wasn’t fully confident in his body. Many skipped dinners and his genetic fast metabolism had left him with a gangly body type. He also had no idea what to do, he wasn’t ready.

“Tell me when you’re ready, I want to take our relationship to the next level.” She laided her head back on his lap. This made him insecure, she was so easy about scratching the idea.

Not only was he socially awkward but he was a prude now.

He debated on asking his dad the question over the weekend but was fearful of a response. He did ask his dad a unrelated question,

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” Farkle asked his father as he walked right in front of him at the table near the “kitchen”.

“A week? Won’t be too long, let me know if you need anything while I’m gone.” His father, Stuart, smiled.

“But where’s mom?” Farkle asked.

“I dont know, call her. Be safe.” His father said before leaving. He was no help in finding his own wife.

Farkle tried calling once but gave up after it went to voicemail. So he just ignored it, and went on with his work and school as usual.

He never wanted to tell people he was home alone because it was slightly embrassing to him- also stranger danger.

Riley talked during lunch about her family dinner and the crazy food her mom made.

“I actually really liked the spam, It was something different, but I was just so surprised it wasn’t chicken. We trust what were eating is real but who knows what’s in our lunches. That’s why Ive decided to go into food sciences.” Riley was proud of her declaration.

“My father makes a lot of dishes with spam. It’s a popular food in the Philippines.” Isadora added. The tension had increased in their relationship since she popped the question.

“Do you remember the spam fried rice my father made for you?” Isadora asked directly to Farkle.

“I do. It’s very saltly meat.” Farkle hated that things had become awkward. It was his fault; Meat, really?

“What is everyone doing this weekend?” Riley asked.

“Me and Farkle are going to watch a Blade Runner 2048 on Friday.” Isadora grabbed his arm tightly, unaware of this plan. They had read The Blade Runner by Alan E. Nourse together at the park a few weeks prior.

“Isn’t it rated R? How are you guys gonna watch it.” Lucas asked intriguingly.

“Fake identification cards.” Isadora deadpanned pulling out her fake ID.

“Smackle!” Riley fussed.

“Smackle!” Maya said proudly, scanning the card.

“You need to be an adult to buy specific chemicals so I got a fake ID.” Isadora didnt seem to understand the big deal.

“Okay, then how about Farkle?” Zay asked.

“Easy. He can just pay the extra.”

“Smackle!” Farkle fussed.

“Then get a fake ID?” Isadora responded, throwing her hands out and shrugged.

Farkle needed to present himself as an adult, he was trusted as one and was as smart as one. He showered and slicked his hair back to the right. Opting for a pair of dress pants instead of jeans and a black t-shirt instead of one with witty science jokes- which he loved.

It seemed at the time he exited, his mother had arrived. It had been almost a week and she had not even bothered to call.

“Where are you going?” His mother asked.

“To the movies with my girlfriend. I will be home before 11, is that fine?” Farkle knew he didnt have to ask but It felt necessary in the moment.

“That’s fine. Where’s your father?” His Mom continue to walk into the house.

“He’s at work. He’ll probably be home soon.” Farkle lied, only to not cause any extra tension. It seemed his father had left without telling his mother and his mother left thinking his father was around, and vice versa.

When he arrived to Smackle’s house, he lightly knocked. Isadora’s house was only a block from Riley’s house and she lived in a similar brownstone condo apartment but instead of the second floor, Isadora lived on the first floor.

“Mr.Farkle.” Isadora’s mother opened the door but before he could get in a word, Isadora slipped under her mother’s arm and grabbed Farkle’s hand.

“What time do you need her back?” Farkle asked, to Isadora’s annoyance.

“Just have her home before midnight and take a taxi home instead of the subway, I can pay. Have fun.” Mrs.Smackle waved as Isadora pulled him away, trying to return the wave.

As they walked Isadora talked and Farkle listened.

“My mother asked me when can she and my dad meet your parents. I know their busy but do you have any ideas of when we could arrange a meeting.” Isadora said sitting next to Farkle in the subway car.

“I dont really think right now is the best time for a meeting.” Farkle body pulled as the car began to take off.

“Wait did I do something? I’m confused why your so hesitant for a meeting.” Isadora said. Farkle’s eyes caught on her confused wrinkles in her skin like waves.

“No. You didn’t do anything my love Isadora. I just dont think I’m-“ Farkle stuttered,

“Ready to take the next step?” Isadora said cutting in, looking up at him with eyes opposite of soft and understanding. Her pupils only brewing with annoyance.

“I want to, I really do. I just dont think it’s respectful to ask them right now.” Farkle tried to reason.

“It just doesnt make sense. Doing just weekends with Friday night, Saturday breakfast, lunch and dinner along with Sunday breakfast, lunch and dinner. That’s 38 percent of all meals eaten in a 7 day period. We have been dating for a year so that’s 400 potential meals we could of scheduled. How can they statically not be able to meet for one meal?” Isadora talked as she did the math in her head, Farkle followed along in his head as well.

“X values, Human error or confounding variables?” Farkle thought of every angle.

“What percent of times do your parents eat dinner with you, together. Through this we can find the true-“ Isadora seemed to look at this from a statically standpoint. Farkle knew his family was werid but a statically anomaly?

“Zero, the percent is zero. Can we talk about something else?” Isadora got quiet, stopping whatever formulas she was preparing in his head and grabbing his hand. He didn’t need his parents in the same room as each other. The train car pulled to a stop, they both faced forward, waiting for the next stop.

Chapter Text

Isadora didnt know what to say. Farkle knew he made the whole night awkward, The movie, the taxi back, everything. He didnt mean to snap at her, he just wanted her to stop, but he didnt know how to ask.

Isadora met him at his locker the following Monday. Her hair, dark and soft, reflected the fluorescent school lights hanging above his locker.

“How was the rest of your week honey?” Isadora asked, monotonically.

“Fine. I have to run to Mr.Rack’s class to ask him question before class starts.” Farkle quickly opened and closed his locker, grabbing a book.

“Can I give you something before you go?” Isadora said as she rocked side to side.

“Sure, I feel-“ Isadora lifted her heels and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t.” She softly smiled before walking forward. Farkle watched as her skirt moved as she tossed her legs.

He liked that she didnt push for anymore information. But not all of his friends had the same approach. Everyone knew something was up, Farkle couldnt even hide it anymore. It wasn’t like he was good at hiding in the first place. He had grown so tall, but the tide was rising, it didn’t matter if he was older and talller, his mind was flooding out his mouth and eyes.

During Halloween, Lucas approached him. Seemly out of the blue at a much larger than expected halloween “party”.

“Are you alright.” Lucas was straight forward. Farkle knew how to handle a person like him.

“It’s just so many people, I don’t think Riley was expecting this many people to come.” Farkle scanned the room, looking at his classmates. He only knew a few by name and fewer had conversed with him.

“The real party is in Riley’s room, come on.” Lucas placed his arm around his shoulder and ushered him to Riley‘s room.

“There you are!” Riley called out, pulling him in.

Farkle was never asked by Maya but she talked with her eyes. Maya knew what it was like to have shit come falling down; she also knew how annoying it was to be pressed on it constantly.

In early November, as the days became shorter, Maya asked Farkle to walk her home. When they arrived to her place- which was an upgrade- after a route of jokes and gossip, she shifted to a sincere tone,

“I get it. If you every need anything or a place, just come. You know where I live now. Bye Farkle.” Maya waved, leaving before Farkle could respond.

He hadn’t cracked. He couldn’t. He was aceing his classes and doing ivy league level extracurriculars.

“Farkle.” Mr.Matthews called out to him. Farkle was moving particularly slow on that day.

“Sit. I need to talk with you.” Mr.Matthews pointed to the desks.

“What’s going on?” Farkle asked, redirecting.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. You seem rather-“

“Aloof, morose or maybe disconsolate?” Farkle ringed in his SAT words.

“I was gonna say down but sure. So you’re aware your mood has changed? Why do you think that it is?” Mr.Matthews wasnt one to lie to as he knew his father.

“I’ve been having a bit of a existential crisis. And my parents hate each other, so that’s always fun.” Farkle pulled his arms into himself.

“Are these two thing like correlated?” Mr.Matthew swiped his pointer fingers back-and-forth next to each other.

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.” Farkle really was telling the truth.

“Are you safe?”

“What?” Farkle almost had forgotten what the point of this conversation was, he was still a teacher.

“Are you a danger to yourself or is anyone at home a danger to you?”

“No, I’m fine. My parents just hate each other, not me!” Farkle stood up pointing to himself.

“Farkle. I’m serious. I think you should talk to a school counselor; Even if your not in danger, just someone that isn’t me or your friends. Will you look into that.” Mr.Matthews looked him dead in the eyes.

“Yes.” Farkle didnt know if he could follow through. Mr.Matthews seemed to know that, letting him go.

Chapter Text

Thanksgiving seemed to be the last thing on his or his parents minds. It wasn’t until his mom informed him that they were going to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving.

“My sister is hosting thanksgiving. She invited us, I think we should go.” His mother said during dinner.

“We as in you and me or you, me and dad.” Farkle asked, his dad was still at work.

“I think your father should come. Her husband is such shithead, but you know how much I love my sister.” That was something Farkle knew his parents were good at, making others feel small.

She contuined “Can you ask your father? I think if you say you want to go he’ll say yes, he’ll make it a big thing if I ask. Besides, you should meet your cousin Thomas.” Farkle nodded in agreement of their plan.

Farkle was quickly able to get his father to say yes. He knew they would behave if they were under a microscope, a little peace.

Riley had been the only one not to ask him about his change in behavior. It shocked him, he thought everytime he spoke to her that she would bring it up. It wasnt like he was making himself sad, he simply was. It was like the only person’s comfort and care that mattered was hers. No one got him like she did, so that’s why it was such a shock that she didnt seem to notice.

“I’m going to visit my grandparents in Philadelphia.” Riley said after Mr.Matthews asked the class about their break plans.

“I know honey.” Mr.Matthews looked down at his daughter.

“Me and Zay are going to Texas together.” Lucas spoke, pointing to his friend. Every since the start of the school year, their little trio felt more like a duo. It wasn't their fault as a he didnt have much energy to go out and socialize.

“Me and my family are going to Philadelphia.” Farkle said, looking at Riley; Riley had turned to him to give her full attention.

“Guess we might run in to each other. Don’t your grandparents live near mine?” Riley asked. Before Farkle could say anything, his eyes matched to Mr.Matthews’.

“We’re spending the day at my Aunts house, but maybe.” Farkle said looking down at his pen, then once again looking to Mr.Matthews.

Riley didnt need to know why his father’s parents didnt live by the Matthews anymore.

Farkle packed light as he left all his summer clothes in Miami, their second stop after Philly. Before they left he decided to take a shower. All he saw in the mirror was a boy, nothing was manly.

He couldnt shake the feeling on the plane. Nothing felt real, he didnt feel real. Darkness surrounded the plane as they passed over southern New Jersey. He wonder if his father ever felt like this, It had to be genetic. His feelings felt too embedded, it must of preceded him.

“Do you think I will grow anymore?” He asked his dad, stooped over on his chair looking at his computer.

“I’m 5’10 and your mom is 6’0. So what, your 5’9? Seems you got a few more inches, I kept growing into my 20s.” His father looked up from his computer and leaned in his chair.

“You have grown so much in the last two years, don’t you want a break?” Stuart asked.

“I just want to be like, you know more bulky.”

“Us Minkus’s have always been skinny, believe me ive tried but somethings cant change.” Stuart spoke in a way that convinced Farkle to keep pressing.

“So it’s genetic issue. Do I have any other genetic issues I should be aware of?” Farkle asked sitting down next to his father.

“Well, you know my side. For your mom’s, you should ask her.” Purposely dodging questions seemed to also run in the family.

Farkle didnt want to wake his mother as it was a late flight. All he could do is sit and look out the window until they arrived to Philly, there sat an apartment his parents owned.

His parents chatted in the car, they shared one thing in common; They both hated their families. Farkle couldnt blame them for being shitty parents sometimes, It was genetic. His mother’s dad was an alcoholic and her mom was just as mean. His father’s family was fine until his father’s dad died when he was 12. His father’s mother became strict and overbearing from what his father had told him. She died of a cancer when Farkle was five, they never seemed to reconcile.

The house was a large colonial with decorations lining the halls. The wooden spiral staircase wrapped to upstairs. Farkle wasnt very close to his mother’s side and his father didnt have a side.

The roster was his Aunt, Uncle, Mom, Dad, Thomas and his mother’s parents. He didnt dislike the uncle, Morty. He was tall and very blonde. He ran a t-shirt printing business, which was successful in its own right, but it was overshadowed by his dad’s company and his mother’s firm.

Morty was the first to talk to him. He hadnt seen him since 7th grade, when he still lived in turtlenecks and wore his hair long.

“Damn, someone has grown!” Morty said hugging him without consent.

“Your almost as tall as your favorite uncle.” He was his only uncle.

Farkle spent his time during dinner sitting next to Thomas, who was 4 and speaking now. Farkle was the babysitter, as his parents talked and people drank. He felt bad for Thomas, he was clearly whining for attention. They gave him an ipad and left him to figure out the rest. Farkle pulled out his phone, and saw a text from Riley.

Riley: How’s Philly treating u?

Farkle quickly responded,

Farkle: I’m stuck babysitting my little cousin Thomas, u?

Riley: It’s alright, I want to show you something, Later tonight.

Farkle: At Mr.Matthews house?

Riley: Yes! How far are you.

Farkle searched in google maps,

Farkle: 10 minutes from my Aunts but 25 minutes from our apartment. I will ask.

Riley: Yay :) Let me know.

Farkle again, was able to get a quick yes. His dad didnt seem to be enjoying the gathering, Farkle started to sense something was up.

He was throwing a ball round with Thomas and as they ran around the stairs, Farkle became winded. Breathing heavily, Morty appeared seemly out of nowhere.

“Farkle can I talk to you for a second.” Morty asked, looking down at a gasping Farkle.

“—sure.” Farkle agreed reluctantly. They turned a corner into his home office.

Morty sat in his chair, smiling to Farkle.

“I need to ask you favor.” Shit.

“For what.” Farkle knew where this was heading.

“Remember those t-shirts I sent you?” Morty was referring to the Farkle Nation shirts he used for his 7th grade election. Farkle nodded.

“Can you tell your dad how great they were. Things have been a bit.. tight. I think if your dad can see how much you liked them, he’ll invest or even loan. Can my favorite nephew do that for me? It can come from your money.” Morty moved up and down his chair. He adjusting himself and his facial expressions. Farkle felt for the first time he wasnt the one being looked down upon. He was the one in power. Farkle wasnt good with power so he caved. After dinner he asked his father to give him some money and chaos erupted.

“You pressured my son to give you money? I knew you greedy bastards would pull some shit like this.” His mother raged.

“We’re leaving.” His father said, pulling his wife away.

Before Farkle could leave, he said goodbye to his cousin. He didn’t seem to acknowledge him as his face was consumed by the light of the iPad.

His parents were in agreement for once, they kept saying the same renditions of “I told you so” to each other.

“Text me when you want to go, okay?” His Father said looking back at him.

“I will.” Farkle pushed the door open and walked to the house. He could see the car was still in park until a light from a near by garage bleed onto the black car.

“Farkle your here.” Riley called out from a fenced in area.

“Hey! So what’s the thing you wanted to show me.” Farkle saw Riley pointed up joyfully to a tree house. He followed as she climbed up into the small house.

“Wow.” Farkle said, looking around at all the drawings, and dust.

“Look.” Riley pointed to a name, Stuart Minkus 1992 with an arrow.

“I thought It was cool. My dad said the arrow was to Stuarts house or the star Sirius.” Riley grinned as she lined the letters.

Farkle stood up, still seeing the garage light through the “window”. Frozen, Riley finally asked.

“What are you looking at.” Riley walked over.

“That’s where my dad lived. That’s the garage that..” He stopped looking at Riley.

“You remember our culture week when I told you I was finding out all this new stuff. My father’s grandmother’s side with the holocaust. I also found out why I had never met my grandfather-“ Farkle feared he was too heavy for her but he promised himself if she asked, he would tell the truth.

“- My grandfather shot himself when my dad was 12 in that garage, that’s why.” Farkle watched as the garage closed and Riley wrapped her arms around him. They just stood like that. Farkle swore he saw Sirius, he was burning up but they would never know until it was too late.

Chapter Text

As New York descended into a hard and fast winter, Farkle felt sure he was going to go just as so. The cars shot across the icy roads, the snow was already setting itself up for the stay. The winter didnt scare him as it was gonna go by quick, usually only lasting until early February. 

“I need to talk with you Farkle.” Maya leaned over  from her desk as the bell rang.

“What’s up.” Farkle continued to pack up his things. Lucas waved from the door to Riley, she cut through Maya and Farkle’s desks. Maya watched until Riley was out of sight.

“Well you know Riley’s birthday is on Friday. We’re throwing a surprise birthday. I just wanted to make sure you knew, you didnt confirm anything in the group chat.” Maya stood up, finally taller than Farkle. She move her fingers through his hair, which was ratty and unkept. 

“Do you have a brush?” Maya grinned, fishing in her backpack.

“Is it that bad?” Farkle ran his fingers through his hair.

“Well, It looks fine but It’s just rough.” Maya handed him a small brush.

He ran his fingers on the bristles before lightly brushing through the middle of his hair to the front. He felt all his hair fall to the front of his face, obstructing his vision.

“Do I look better?” Farkle laughed as he spoke, he couldn’t see Maya. 

“You’re such a loser.” Maya ran her hands through his hair, pushing it back in the process. Moments like these reminded Farkle of how things used to be.

Truthly, Farkle had no idea what caused his sudden wave of sadness. Seasonal? Genetic? Familial? He had been sad before but not like this. It seemed when others got hit by waves, they kept swimming, but when Farkle got hit, he didn’t have the energy to even keep a float. 

He sat in the living room on the couch, skipping yet another social outing. Farkle didn’t know the cause of his sadness precisely but he knew exactly how to exit it. 

‘I just need to ask for help’ Farkle thought. He was stubborn, self aware but not self acting. Sitting up, he grabs his phone and searches for WebMd. A symptom check list with a vitruvian man appears on the screen. 

Clicking sadness and fatigue, he’s brought to a loading page for potential disorders he might have. Endogenous depression, post-concussive disorder or bipolar disorder. He needed to research. 

How to know if you have a concussion?

Concussion online test

What are the different kinds of depression?

What are the different types of bipolar?

What classifies as mania?

What is the criteria for major depressive disorder?

What’s wrong with me? (he had become desperate)

As much as Farkle knew about science and history, he felt blinded by what little he knew about mental health. Reflecting on it, his family never talked about feelings or emotions. They didn’t really talk about anything personal. 

When Riley’s birthday came he knew what to give her. Placing it on the bay window steps before the party.

Everyone huddled in Riley‘s room waiting for her to come home from cheer pratice— she was proving herself to be a good team manager. The crack of the front door prompted silence in the room, the only sounds came from her parents' happy birthdays from the kitchen, the room became more anxious for the surprise as her footsteps neared. Suddenly, they all held their breaths before they shot up to say

“Surprise!”

The party raged into the living room, as guests ate pizza and played board games. This was all interrupted with a suggestion to open gifts after another failed round of uno. 

Riley, adorned in her crown, opened her first gift from Lucas. Pulling the tissue paper out of the gift bag revealed a silver necklace with a purple butterfly. She cheered, racing over to hug Lucas. Lucas wrapped his hand around her neck to hook and place the butterfly necklace. 

“How about this one next?” Riley pulled for Farkle’s gift. Opening the small bag revealed a certificate.

“You bought me a star.” The group looked at Riley’s paper as she read.

“The International Astronomical Union has renamed Nu Phoenicis, a F-type main-sequence star in the southern constellation of Phoenix, Riley’s Star.” Riley looked up at him from her paper.

“Can I see it?” She turned to looked out her window, the sky was already dark.

“And I got you another present that you can use to see it with but let’s keep going.” Farkle nervously gestured to the other presents on the coffee table.

“Who cares about stupid presents! You got Riley star!” Isadora said, seemingly moving the group up from the floor.

They walked to Riley’s room and Farkle revealed his other gift, a telescope.

“Farkle, you didnt have to.” Riley hugged him.

“It was buy one get one free, It was steal and I thought you should be able to see your star from wherever you are.” Everyone stood waiting for their turn to see the star in the foggy telescope, except for Isadora.

Later after gifts had finished, Isadora pulled him unwillingly to the hallway outside of Riley’s apartment. 

“Why did you gift Riley your telescope?” Isadora stood as if she was taller than him. 

“I wanted to make sure she could see her star.” Farkle said looking back into the main room. 

“That was a two thousand dollar telescope! I’m worried because you threw away a perfectly good telescope.” Isadora had her shoes and coat on.

“I didnt throw it away, I gifted it. She likes science, she deserves to be able to look at her star. It’s my telescope, can’t I do what I want with it? Farkle said, continuing to look back into the main room. 

“My feelings aren’t about the telescope. I’ve been reading about your symptoms and Ive come to the conclusion-“

“-My symptoms? What are you talking about.” Farkle said defensively.

Isadora conutined, “I’ve come to a conclusion about your behaviors but I can't tell you what I found.”

“Why not?”

“There’s this physiological theory called reactance theory. It’s characterized by an unpleasant motivational arousal that emerges when people experience a threat to or loss of their free behavior.”

“So if you tell me your theories, you think I will do become them?” Farkle repeated in his own words back to Isadora.

“Yes.” Smackle walked right past him, and as he attempted to pull her back, something stopped him. It wasn't a hand or a passerby, It was something intangible. Farkle knew exactly what Isadora was implying. 

Chapter Text

Farkle reflected on his day before he made his choice. Farkle got up and brushed his teeth for the first time in a while. It had been almost a week since Riley’s birthday and the last time Farkle talked to his girlfriend. It was better this way—no would get hurt. Before Farkle left for school, he said goodbye to his father.
Stuart seemed surprised with the sudden affection, but responded in a similar generic goodbye-have a nice day combo response. Stuart continued out the door as Farkle finished his breakfast.
In AP Calculus AB he made sure no work was missing.
In AP Physics 2 he finished the part of his group project early.
In AP Biology he told Mr.Rack how great of a teacher he was.
In American History he asked Mr.Matthews what Belgium 1831 was—he was able to get a laugh out of the class— Mr.Matthews didnt seem to like it.
In AP Human Geography he asked about burials in different parts of the world.
And in AP Language and Composition, he left his book at school. Farkle had done all this unintentionally, he might have had some quantum sense of the future. Standing guard with his sword out but its double edge pointed to as well.
Farkle found himself in a storm. Walking home he didn't try to pick up Isadora. He looked out his window. Rain became ice. Snow became slush. The conditions were perfect for a winter mess in mid December. The chaos was distracting. It seemed as if winter was already imploding on itself.
Farkle sat in total darkness. He wrote a note, mostly to himself. He had heard journaling helped with processing of emotions but he was too critical of his feelings. He started to express his desire to disappear, to be different, ‘I wish the universe didn't throw me in this direction. I knew change was going to come but I feel I’m spinning on the wrong axis now and I wish for a supernova of my soul’. He only knew how to express himself in scientific ways, a simple emotional platitude didn't encapsulate his very vulnerable emotions. It was embarrassing that he felt this deeply. The pen in his hand became the key to fire escape. He couldn’t bring himself to do it that way. Even in his death, he didn't want to be a burden to clean up.
So he took pills. However, Instead of throwing them back all at once, he took them one by one. His wrist turned the bottle, he had 2 times the overdose amount in his system. The guilt. The sadness. He was taken over by an internal shame. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why had he been so stupid! Farkle didn't wanna die. Maybe he did. Fuck. He just wanted things to stop. Shit. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. All he could think of was to call 911.
“911 how can I assist you?”
“I just took a lot of pills. I felt upset and umm I took two times the amount that would be an overdose. I'm really scared.” His voice was breathy and quick, choking on his own tears.
“I will send someone to help you. What's your name and how old are you? I got your location, what apartment is it.”
“It’s 83. Umm I’m 15 and I’m Farkle.”
“Farkle are you suicidal or inactive danger?”
“Yes. I’m getting really sleepy.”
“Okay. Farkle I need you to try and stay awake. They’re coming to you.”
Farkle lay on the cold floor. His body melted into the floor. The seconds moved as he tried to stay awake for the 911 operator. The last question he remembered being asked was, “Are you still awake Farkle?” Before the line went cold.

Chapter Text

Sticky. His arms were stuck to the bed, sweat had drenched his body. He looked around the hospital room. Trying to recall the EMT coming to get him. He did not. What he did recall being awoken in the back of the ambulance, before falling back to sleep as he was being wheeled into the hospital. He recounts the EMT trying to ask for his parents' information. All he could do was loosen his grip from his phone.
A nurse was next to him, “What did they do to me?” Farkle asked, still too weak to sit up. He had an IV in his arm, and a breathing tube in his nose. The rest of his body was in pain, but he was still alive.
“They gave you a gastric lavage. Along with IV fluids and that breathing tube in your nose. The doctors monitored you until your breathing was more stable and gave you mediation to help support your heart rate and cool you down.” The nurse came around him to take vitals.
The nurse typed something into her laptop, and she opened the door to say something to what Farkle assumed to be a doctor. Farkle could get a view of his father sitting in the hallway, still in his work clothes. He hadn't had time to note his mothers absence before the door closed, and a tall doctor stood above him.
Farkle was fixated on the light above him. Not the doctors words, something about going upstairs to the child's psych unit and doing assessments. As his eyes burned, tears started to fall onto his cheeks. They must've come from the ceiling.
When the doctors left into the hallway, Farkle was reminded of his friends. School started a couple of hours ago. His friends probably texted him or worse, they hadn't.
His parents finally came in. Farkle, who was still grappling from the light induced sorrow tried looking to the side. His eyes must've triggered his dad as he started crying. As his father collected himself, his mom started asking him questions, all along the lines of “why would you wanna die? You're such a bright kid?” All Farkle could say was “I’m sorry.” Again and again
“Did you tell anyone?” Farkle said, attempting to sit up a bit.
“No.” His mom looked to his father, who had regathered himself.
“I haven't but do you want me to? Let your friends know you're okay.” His father said.
Before Farkle could respond his mother cut in, “But he’s not. He tried to kill himself last night. This isn't just a stomach bug, the doctor said he might need months.”
“Months? To heal?” Farkle said with a hit of fear.
“Farkle you tried to kill yourself, and you were pretty damn close. You're not leaving this place anytime soon.” His mother continued.
“What your mother is trying to say, what you did was serious and we want you to get better.”
“I’m fine. It was a mistake.” Farkle didn't want to wait months to see his friends.
“We found your note.” Stuart said, pulling it out of his pocket.
“I know me and your mother have been a bit preoccupied by work but we have always cared about you.”
“You have always been so independent and self driven. We didn't realize you were struggling.” His mother put her hand on his shoulder.
“This isn't about you guys. I’ve spent my whole life dealing with my own problems by myself and if I did come to you, I doubt you two would have anything productive to say. You guys cant even deal with your own issues with yourself or each other.” Farkle took a deep breath.
“I wanted to die because the weight of just existing is a heavy burden on me. I wasn't meant to be human. I didn't even know I was human until I was 13. There’s nothing real about me. I’ve felt so heavy, and nothing can relive that but death. I have nothing to add to this world, not even a sound.” That lacrimal fluid. Farkle couldn't look up. His face burned red. His parents were a bit shocked.
Farkle had been struggling for a while. He spent the summer attempting to drown himself in the hope he would get some will to swim to the surface. He gave Riley his favorite telescope, one his father gifted to him on his 10th birthday. He had lost interest in the stars and had turned off his planetarium. He wasn't eating, and didn't even know where his toothbrush was. Why couldn't he just be normal about living?