Chapter Text
The curly-haired boy was so sad the day he met Gina. He can't quite remember why.
The one thing that sang in his mind that morning was that everything would go back to normal somehow.
Ricky had an objective that day that he would see through staunchly. Nini was slipping out of his grasp after a summer of love with a boy that wore a letterman jacket and cited show tune lyrics unironically. His mother left for Chicago in June and has barely called since then, and Mike Bowen only offers mumbles of excuses and cowers when his son would try to look for the answers in his eyes.
It didn't matter because all of it would go back to normal that day.
He skated with Red to school like he always did, never mind that he almost ran some old lady over. He clutched his book bag tightly in the hallway when Nini and Kourtney confidently walked the halls and entered his vision.
It all went south when Nini told him what really happened on the day she confessed her love for him.
"It's a break up now." She says it so definitely and unwaveringly Ricky surprisingly feels a rush of envy wash over him at the fact that she has it all figured out. She got to have fun at theater camp of all places and figure herself out while the world around him still crumbled and he had to pretend it was okay by skating, hanging out with Red, and being out of his house as much as he could, whether that was with some random girl sometimes was partially irrelevant.
The sinking feeling in his gut comes right after. Ricky remembers to blink when Red poses a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Sorry dude."
"What the fuck was that?" Ricky asks in an unhappy confused tone.
"Sounded like a breakup...?" Red cautiously says as if the words would break his entire being right then and there.
But when Ricky shakes his head dejectedly suddenly absolutely none of it matters because the small action puts her in his line of sight.
The curly-haired girl he'd never seen before yet somehow met time and time again was standing by her locker just paces away from him. He'd caught her looking and just as quickly as her brown orbs met his she coldly turned away, she stuffed a book in its proper place and walked away.
Ricky still stands in the middle of the hallway in awe. Red's advice on how to deal with this breakup is muddled and filters in his ears like white noise.
It's her.
It s myriad of lifetimes in just one moment, his head could explode with the memories and feelings flooding his senses.
The feeling of the touch of her gloved hand as it fit in his, the endless camera flashes around him all but faltering in comparison to her smile, the adrenaline pumping in his system when they ran through a field of dandelions as children, running under a full moon on a sandy beach (they seemed to have run a lot).
Every moment was so clear in his mind now. So present, along with all the lifetimes he'd spent alone.
Genevieve. Ricky's mind rings the name and something within him glows. He utters her name softly, "Genevieve."
Red's brows furrow, "Dude...what?" he utters in pure confusion.
"Who is that?" Ricky's eyes are still trained on the path she blazed walking away from her locker. He knows who she is, yet the question still remains. She's so familiar to him yet completely estranged in this life. Bewilderment and frustration cloud his senses.
Red tries to align himself with what his best friend sees, the feeling of bewilderment doubling as he looks back and forth between his profile and the crowded space. "Who?"
"The girl in the pink jacket that just walked away." He hurriedly reiterates, it's like she vanished into thin air.
"Um no idea, I think she might be new." Red shakes his head while Ricky still stands there, lips pursed and oddly contemplative. "Ricky are you okay?"
The curly-haired skater exhales and tries to calm his racing heart, not quite sure why the appendage had quickened its pace. "I-" Ricky falters with the words. He has to know her name, know her now as he knew her before, somehow. "I'm not sure."