Noah closed the front door behind him and remained standing in the hallway for several seconds, his hand still resting against the cold metal handle.
He could hear movement somewhere deeper in the house, the familiar sounds of dishes being put away in the kitchen and the low murmur of the television coming from the living room, but for a while all of it seemed distant.
His thoughts were still outside with Elias.
He pictured him walking down the street with his hands in his jacket pockets, his head lowered against the evening cold, perhaps glancing back once more before disappearing around the corner.
Noah finally let go of the handle and turned around, only to find his mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
He stopped immediately.
She had her arms crossed.
Noah narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
His mother looked toward the front door and then back at him.
“Nothing.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I was just wondering why you’ve been standing there for so long.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
Noah glanced toward the clock on the wall.
Perhaps it hadn’t been as long as she claimed, but it had certainly been longer than necessary.
“I was thinking.”
“About Elias?”
His eyes returned to her at once.
“Mom.”
She smiled.
“What?”
“Why would you even ask that?”
“Because you’ve been smiling since you walked through the door.”
Noah’s expression disappeared almost immediately.
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
Noah attempted to walk past her, but his mother moved aside slowly, still watching him with that knowing expression he had learned to distrust.
“Is he nice?” she asked.
Noah stopped halfway toward the stairs.
The question was so ordinary that it caught him off guard.
“Yeah.”
“Do you like him?”
Noah turned around.
His mother didn’t look amused.
She wasn’t teasing him anymore.
There was only curiosity in her expression, and perhaps something softer.
She didn’t expect an explanation from him.
She didn’t demand an answer.
That somehow made it harder.
“I don’t know,” Noah said.
She raised an eyebrow.
Noah sighed.
“Okay.
I do.”
A smile appeared on her face.
“Good.”
He frowned.
“That’s all?”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know.”
“You like someone.”
“I said I don’t know.”
“You just said you do.”
Noah let out a quiet groan and continued toward the stairs.
Behind him, his mother laughed.
“You’re terrible at hiding things.”
“Goodnight.”
“It’s barely seven.”
“Goodnight.”
He disappeared upstairs before she could say anything else.
Once inside his room, Noah closed the door behind him and dropped onto his bed.
For a few moments, he stared at the ceiling without moving.
Outside, the evening had become darker, and the stars he had been looking at only minutes earlier were hidden behind the curtains.
He thought about opening them again, but instead he reached for his phone.
There was already a message waiting.
Made it home.
Noah smiled.
Congratulations.
You’re very supportive.
I try.
The reply came almost immediately.
Did your mom kill you for being late?
Noah thought about the conversation downstairs.
No.
Good.
She asked about you.
There was a pause.
What did you tell her?
Noah stared at the screen.
He could have changed the subject.
He could have made a joke.
Instead, he typed the first thing that came to his mind.
That you’re nice.
The answer didn’t come straight away.
When it finally did, Noah smiled.
Just nice?
Don’t push it.
A laughing emoji appeared, followed by another message.
You know, I meant what I said earlier.
Noah frowned slightly.
Which thing?
You say too many things.
That I’d know you.
Noah stopped smiling.
He read the words again.
Even somewhere far away.
His fingers hovered above the screen.
How would you know?
This time, the answer took longer.
I’d find you.
Noah stared at the message.
It was an impossible thing to say.
They were young, and neither of them knew what their lives would look like in five years.
School would end.
College would begin.
New people would appear.
Places would change.
Noah understood that life had a way of pulling people apart even when neither of them intended to leave.
Yet something about Elias’s certainty made him want to believe it.
You’d have to look very hard, Noah wrote.
I would.
What if I didn’t want to be found?
The response came almost immediately.
Then I’d wait.
Noah’s expression changed.
For how long?
The three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, Elias answered.
As long as you needed me to.
Noah placed the phone beside him.
For several moments, he couldn’t bring himself to reply.
People said things like that all the time.
They promised to stay.
They promised forever.
They used words like always without understanding how long always could be.
But Elias didn’t sound as though he were saying it because it was romantic.
He sounded as though he meant it.
Eventually, Noah picked up his phone again.
You know you don’t have to say things like that.
I know.
Then why do you?
The answer came after a few seconds.
Because I mean them.
Noah looked at the screen for a long time.
Then he wrote:
Goodnight, Elias.
The reply appeared immediately.
Goodnight, Noah.
That night, Noah dreamed of rain.
At first, he didn’t know where he was.
There was no familiar room around him, no streets, no buildings and no sky that he could see.
There was only darkness and the endless sound of water.
Then he realized he was moving.
Not walking.
Moving.
Too fast.
A terrible pressure filled his chest.
Noah tried to look around, but the darkness shifted before he could understand what he was seeing.
For one brief, impossible second, bright headlights appeared somewhere ahead of him.
They cut through the darkness and vanished almost immediately.
Someone shouted his name.
The voice sounded distant.
Desperate.
Then there was a sound Noah couldn’t understand.
Metal.
Glass.
Something breaking.
He woke so suddenly that he almost fell out of bed.
For several seconds, he didn’t know where he was.
His room was dark.
His heart was beating painfully fast.
Noah sat upright, pressing one hand against his chest while trying to breathe slowly.
The dream had already begun to disappear, leaving behind only fragments that refused to fit together.
Rain.
Darkness.
Light.
A voice.
He looked toward the window.
There was no rain outside.
The night was completely still.
Noah reached for his phone and checked the time.
3:17 a.m.
There was a message from Elias.
Noah stared at it.
It had been sent twenty minutes earlier.
Still awake?
He frowned.
Then he typed.
I am now.
The answer came a few seconds later.
Bad dream?
Noah’s fingers stopped.
How did you know?
A pause.
Lucky guess.
Despite everything, Noah smiled faintly.
You’re creepy.
You like me.
The familiar words helped more than Noah wanted to admit.
He leaned back against the headboard.
I had a dream.
About what?
Noah looked toward the darkness of his room.
I don’t know.
It was the truth.
The dream was already becoming vague.
He could remember rain and light and the horrible feeling that something had gone terribly wrong, but nothing else made sense.
Do you want to talk about it?
Noah hesitated.
No.
There was no disappointment in Elias’s response.
Okay.
A moment passed.
Then another message appeared.
You don’t have to.
Noah swallowed.
I know.
Try to sleep.
You too.
Can’t.
Noah frowned.
Why?
The answer came after a pause.
Thinking.
About what?
This time, Elias took longer.
When the answer finally appeared, Noah felt something warm and painful move through his chest at the same time.
You.
Noah stared at the screen.
Then he smiled.
Go to sleep, Elias.
Goodnight, Noah.
Goodnight.
This time, Noah left his phone beside him with the screen facing upward.
He stared at the darkness for a while longer, listening to the quiet house around him.
Eventually, his heartbeat slowed.
Before sleep finally returned, one thought remained with him.
Elias was awake too.
Somewhere beneath the same dark sky.
Thinking about him.
The following morning, Noah was exhausted.
He almost missed his alarm and only managed to get dressed after his mother called him downstairs twice.
He left the house with his jacket half closed, his hair still a mess and absolutely no interest in speaking to another human being before he had something warm to drink.
Elias was already waiting at the corner.
The moment Noah saw him, he slowed down.
Elias looked tired too.
“You look terrible,” Noah said.
“Good morning.”
“Sorry.
You look awful.”
“Better.”
“You didn’t sleep?”
Elias shrugged.
“Not much.”
Noah studied him.
“Why?”
Elias looked at him for a moment.
“You either?”
Noah understood.
Neither of them spoke about the dream.
Instead, Elias started walking, and Noah followed beside him.
After a few seconds, their hands brushed against each other.
This time, Noah didn’t wait for Elias to make the first move.
He reached for him and intertwined their fingers.
Elias looked down.
Then at Noah.
Noah didn’t say anything.
Neither did Elias.
But his fingers tightened gently around Noah’s hand.
They walked in silence for most of the way.
When they reached the school gates, Elias stopped.
Noah turned toward him.
“What?”
Elias’s expression had become serious.
“Are you okay?”
The question was simple.
Noah could have answered automatically.
He could have said yes, smiled and walked away.
Instead, he looked down for a moment.
“I think so.”
Elias watched him carefully.
“If you ever don’t think so, tell me.”
Noah looked back at him.
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Elias smiled slightly.
“Come on.
We’re late.”
Noah followed him toward the building.
The rest of the day passed normally enough that Noah almost convinced himself the dream had meant nothing.
Maya complained about an assignment.
Elias fell asleep during history.
Noah spent half of lunch trying to convince him that the teacher had noticed.
“She didn’t.”
“She was looking directly at you.”
“She looks directly at everyone.”
“Not while they’re asleep.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“You were.”
“No.”
“You snored.”
Elias stared at him in horror.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
Maya looked between them.
“He snores?”
Noah smiled.
Elias pointed at him.
“You’re dead.”
“You love me.”
The words left Elias’s mouth so naturally that all three of them froze.
Maya slowly raised her eyebrows.
Noah stared at him.
Elias stared back.
Then Maya smiled.
“Oh.”
Noah immediately stood up.
“I’m going to class.”
“Lunch isn’t over,” Maya said.
“I don’t care.”
Elias grabbed his bag and followed him.
“You can’t run away from me.”
“I can try.”
“You’re very fast for someone who hates exercise.”
Noah looked over his shoulder.
“You started it.”
“I know.”
“You always know.”
“It’s one of my best qualities.”
Noah shook his head.
But he was smiling.
By the end of the day, the dream had become nothing more than a faint uneasiness somewhere at the back of Noah’s mind.
At least, that was what he told himself.
He didn’t notice that when a car passed them too quickly outside the school, he flinched almost imperceptibly.
He didn’t notice that the sudden sound of brakes made his heart beat faster.
Elias did.
But he said nothing.
Instead, he stepped closer to Noah and bumped his shoulder lightly against his.
“You’re coming with me.”
Noah looked at him.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s enough of one.”
Noah smiled.
And followed him anyway.
They walked without deciding where they were going, allowing the afternoon to carry them through familiar streets and past places neither of them had ever paid much attention to.
They stopped at a small store for drinks and snacks, argued about what they should buy, and eventually ended up sitting together on a low stone wall overlooking a quiet stretch of road where the traffic moved slowly beneath the fading afternoon light.
Elias was telling Noah a story about something that had happened when he was younger, and Noah was only half listening because he had become distracted by the way Elias spoke with his hands whenever he became too invested in something.
“Are you listening?”
Noah blinked.
“Of course.”
“What did I just say?”
“You said something about your cousin.”
Elias narrowed his eyes.
“My cousin?”
“Your brother.”
“I don’t have a brother.”
Noah smiled.
“I knew that.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Elias laughed.
For a while, they sat in comfortable silence.
Noah looked up.
The sky was slowly beginning to darken.
The first star appeared above them.
Then another.
Elias followed his gaze.
“You really do love looking at those.”
Noah smiled faintly.
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
Noah thought about it.
“Because they’re always there.”
Elias became quiet.
Noah looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You have that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re thinking something.”
Elias smiled.
“Maybe I am.”
“Then tell me.”
Elias looked toward the sky again.
“I was just thinking that they’re still really far away.”
Noah watched him.
“So far away.”
Elias looked back at him.
The expression on his face changed.
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered.”
Noah looked toward the stars.
“Somewhere far away.”
Elias smiled.
“How far?”
Noah turned his head slightly.
Their eyes met.
“So far away.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Elias reached for Noah’s hand.
And Noah let him.
They remained there until the sky grew dark enough that the stars became impossible to ignore.
Noah had no way of knowing that years later, he would look at those same stars and feel as though the entire universe had placed an impossible distance between them.
But that night, Elias was beside him.
His hand was warm.
His shoulder touched Noah’s.
And the distance between them was nothing at all.