After that afternoon on the hill, Noah kept telling himself that nothing had changed.
It was an easy lie to believe because, from the outside, everything looked exactly the same.
He still woke up in the morning and complained about being tired.
Elias still waited for him at the same corner, usually with his hands in his pockets and an expression of exaggerated disappointment whenever Noah arrived even a minute later than expected.
They still walked to school together, still sat beside each other in class, still argued over meaningless things and found ways to make even the most boring afternoon last longer than it should have.
Nothing had changed.
Except Noah had started noticing things.
Small things.
Things he probably shouldn’t have noticed.
He knew the exact expression Elias made when he was trying not to laugh.
He knew that whenever Elias was thinking too hard about something, his thumb would move absentmindedly over the silver ring on his finger.
He knew that Elias hated tomatoes, loved coffee despite constantly complaining that it tasted terrible, and had an almost impressive ability to forget anything important while remembering every stupid thing Noah had ever said.
Noah knew that Elias didn’t like sleeping with the curtains completely closed.
He knew that he always checked his phone twice before leaving the house.
He knew that sometimes, in the middle of a conversation, Elias would suddenly grow quiet, as though his mind had gone somewhere Noah couldn’t follow.
And Noah had started wondering about those places.
That was the part he didn’t like.
Caring about someone was one thing.
Noah could accept friendship.
He could accept the fact that Elias had become important to him in a way Noah hadn’t expected when he first saw him sitting beside that classroom window.
But there were moments when Noah caught himself wanting to know things that friends didn’t necessarily need to know.
What did Elias think about when he couldn’t sleep?
Who was he thinking about when he went quiet?
Why did he sometimes smile as though he were trying to convince himself that everything was fine?
Noah didn’t have answers.
And perhaps that was why he kept looking for them.
On Tuesday morning, he was running late.
It wasn’t entirely his fault.
At least, that was what Noah told himself while searching desperately beneath his bed for the history notes he was almost certain he had left somewhere in his room.
He had found an old shoe, three empty bottles of water and a sweater he had been looking for since the previous month, but his notes remained missing.
By the time he finally gave up and left the house, he was carrying his backpack half-open over one shoulder and eating a piece of toast.
His phone vibrated before he reached the end of the street.
Noah pulled it from his pocket.
Elias: Are you alive?
Noah smiled.
Noah: Unfortunately.
The answer appeared almost immediately.
Elias: Good.
Noah shook his head.
Noah: You say that every time.
Elias: Because every time, you keep waking up.
Noah: Deep.
Elias: Thank you.
Noah put his phone away before he could smile at another message.
When he reached their usual meeting place, Elias was sitting on the low wall beside the sidewalk.
His head was lowered as he looked at his phone, but something about him seemed different.
Noah noticed it before Elias even looked up.
He looked tired.
His hair was messier than usual, falling into his eyes, and there were faint shadows beneath them.
His jacket wasn’t fully zipped, and one of his shoelaces had come undone.
Noah stopped in front of him.
“You look awful.”
Elias lifted his head.
“Good morning to you too.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Noah narrowed his eyes.
Elias sighed.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
The teasing disappeared from Noah’s expression.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Something about the answer made Noah sit down beside him.
“Were you up all night?”
“Not all night.”
“What time did you fall asleep?”
Elias didn’t answer immediately.
Noah waited.
“Four.”
Noah stared at him.
“Four in the morning?”
“Technically.”
“Elias.”
“What?”
“You have school.”
“I know.”
“You could have slept.”
“I tried.”
Noah looked at him for a moment.
Elias was staring ahead at the empty street, his expression unusually distant.
“Nightmare?” Noah asked quietly.
Elias turned toward him.
For a second, Noah thought he had asked the wrong question.
Then Elias looked away again.
“Something like that.”
Noah didn’t push.
Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out the cereal bar he had packed before leaving.
Elias looked down at it.
“What?”
“You didn’t eat breakfast.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you always complain when you’re hungry.”
“I do not.”
“You complained about being hungry three times yesterday before lunch.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
Noah held out the cereal bar.
“Take it.”
Elias looked at him for a moment before accepting it.
Their fingers brushed.
Noah immediately pulled his hand back.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t make it a thing.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Elias smiled faintly.
Noah stood.
“Come on.
We’re going to be late.”
Elias got to his feet.
“See?
You do care about me.”
“I care about not getting detention.”
“Same thing.”
Noah started walking.
Elias followed beside him.
The school day passed slowly, but Noah found himself watching Elias more than usual.
It wasn’t obvious.
At least, Noah hoped it wasn’t.
He simply noticed whenever Elias became quiet.
He noticed when he rested his head against his hand during class and stared out the window.
He noticed that Elias barely touched his lunch.
By the end of the day, Noah was beginning to worry.
“Are you sick?” he asked as they walked toward the school gates.
Elias looked at him.
“No.”
“You’re acting weird.”
“That’s rude.”
“You know what I mean.”
Elias smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m tired.”
Noah accepted that answer.
Mostly because he didn’t know what else to do.
The following day, Elias seemed more like himself again.
By lunchtime, he was arguing with Maya about the school dance, which was apparently the only thing anyone could talk about anymore.
“I don’t dance,” Noah said.
“You don’t have to dance.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“To have fun.”
Noah looked at her.
“That sounds suspicious.”
Maya rolled her eyes.
“You’re coming.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“You’re both coming.”
Noah turned toward Elias.
“Why am I suddenly involved in this?”
Elias shrugged.
“Because apparently we’re a package deal now.”
Maya smiled.
“Exactly.”
Noah stared at her.
“You’re both impossible.”
“So that’s a yes?” she asked.
“No.”
Elias looked at Noah.
Maya crossed her arms.
Noah sighed.
“Fine.”
Maya smiled immediately.
“I knew it.”
“Don’t be too happy about it.”
Elias leaned closer to Noah.
“Are you wearing a suit?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Noah turned toward him.
Elias smiled.
Noah looked away before Elias could see him trying not to smile back.
That evening, Noah was lying on his bed when his phone vibrated.
He reached for it without thinking.
Elias: You awake?
Noah stared at the message for only a second.
Noah: Obviously.
Elias: I need help.
Noah immediately sat up.
Noah: With what?
The answer came a few seconds later.
Elias: I have to choose what to wear to the dance.
Noah stared at the screen.
Noah: Are you serious?
Elias: Completely.
Noah: Why are you asking me?
Elias: Because you said you were coming.
Noah: That doesn’t mean I know how to dress you.
Elias: You have better taste than me.
Noah laughed quietly.
Noah: That’s not difficult.
Elias: So you’ll help?
Noah hesitated.
Noah: Fine.
Three dots appeared.
Elias: Come over tomorrow.
Noah stopped.
Noah: What?
Elias: My house.
Noah: I understood that.
Elias: Then why did you ask?
Noah looked at the screen.
Noah: You’ve never invited me over before.
There was a pause.
Longer than the others.
Elias: Is that weird?
Noah felt his heart beat strangely.
Noah: No.
Elias: Good.
Noah put his phone down.
Then picked it up again.
Then put it down for the second time.
It was ridiculous.
He was going to a friend’s house.
That was all.
There was absolutely no reason to think about it as much as he was.
The next afternoon, Noah changed his shirt twice.
Then he changed back into the first one.
He stood in front of the mirror for several seconds, annoyed with himself.
“What are you doing?” he muttered.
He had no answer.
When he finally reached Elias’s house, he stood outside for a moment before knocking.
The door opened almost immediately.
Elias stood there.
Noah forgot what he was going to say.
“Hi.”
Elias smiled.
“Hi.”
A brief silence passed between them.
Then Elias moved aside.
“Come in.”
Noah stepped into the house.
It was quieter than he expected.
A few boxes remained stacked against the wall, although most of the house looked settled now.
A television was playing somewhere in the distance, and the smell of something sweet drifted from the kitchen.
“Your mom home?” Noah asked.
“Working.”
“Oh.”
Elias looked at him.
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look nervous.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
Noah took off his jacket.
“Can we stop talking about my face?”
Elias laughed.
“Sure.”
He led Noah upstairs.
Elias’s room was messier than Noah had imagined.
Books were scattered across his desk.
Clothes were hanging over the back of a chair.
A guitar Noah had never seen before rested against the wall near the window, and several photographs had been taped to the wall beside his bed.
Noah walked closer to them.
“Who’s that?”
Elias appeared beside him.
He looked toward the photograph Noah was pointing at.
“My dad.”
Noah turned toward him.
Elias’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
“Do you talk to him?”
“Sometimes.”
“You miss him.”
Elias smiled faintly.
“Sometimes.”
Noah looked back at the photograph.
“That means yes.”
Elias looked at him.
“You’re annoying.”
“So I’ve been told.”
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then Noah noticed another photograph.
A beach.
The ocean stretched endlessly behind a younger Elias, who stood with his shoes in one hand and his trousers rolled up to his knees.
Noah smiled.
“Is that where you used to live?”
“Not exactly.”
“Where is it?”
Elias shook his head.
“Somewhere far away.”
Noah looked at him.
“Very funny.”
“I mean it.”
The teasing in Elias’s voice had disappeared.
Noah waited for him to explain, but Elias only smiled and turned toward his closet.
“Anyway, we have an emergency.”
Noah frowned.
“What emergency?”
Elias pulled out two shirts.
“I have no idea which one to wear.”
Noah stared at them.
“This is what you called an emergency?”
“Yes.”
“You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
“You should be.”
Elias held the first shirt against himself.
“This one?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did.”
“You have terrible instincts.”
“I have excellent instincts.”
Elias laughed.
Noah took the first shirt from his hands and placed it on the bed.
“Definitely not that one.”
Elias held up the second.
“And this?”
Noah looked at him.
The shirt was simple.
Dark, with the sleeves rolled slightly at the wrists.
“It suits you.”
The words came out before Noah could stop them.
Elias became still.
Noah immediately looked away.
“I mean, the shirt.”
A slow smile appeared on Elias’s face.
“I know what you meant.”
“Stop smiling.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Very much.”
Noah grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.
Elias caught it.
“Violence?”
“Shut up.”
“You came all the way here just to attack me.”
“I came here because apparently you can’t choose between two shirts.”
“It’s a serious problem.”
Noah sat on the edge of the bed while Elias continued looking through his closet.
For the next hour, they talked about almost everything except the dance.
Elias eventually gave up trying to organize his clothes, and Noah learned that the guitar by the window had belonged to Elias’s father before he had given it to him.
Elias admitted that he couldn’t play much more than a few songs, although Noah suspected he was lying about how bad he was.
“You should play something.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“You definitely will.”
“I promise.”
Elias looked at him.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“That’s rude.”
“It’s true.”
“Play.”
“No.”
Noah leaned back against the wall.
“Coward.”
Elias stared at him.
Then, without saying anything, he walked toward the guitar.
Noah smiled.
“I knew it.”
“Shut up.”
Elias sat down on the chair near the window and rested the guitar against his knee.
Noah watched as he adjusted his fingers against the strings.
The first few notes were quiet.
Then another followed.
Noah didn’t recognize the song.
He wasn’t sure whether it was something Elias had learned or something he was creating as he went along, but there was something almost hesitant about the melody.
It wasn’t perfect.
Elias missed a note once and stopped to correct himself, but Noah didn’t laugh.
He simply listened.
When the final sound faded into silence, Elias looked at him.
“Well?”
Noah took a moment before answering.
“You’re better than you said.”
Elias smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get used to compliments.”
“I’ll treasure this one forever.”
Noah rolled his eyes.
Elias placed the guitar beside the chair and returned to sit on the floor near the bed.
Noah looked down at him.
“You’re sitting on the floor again.”
“It’s comfortable.”
“You have a bed.”
“I know.”
Noah shook his head.
After a moment, he slid down from the bed and sat beside him.
Their shoulders touched.
Neither moved.
For a while, they talked about nothing important.
Noah told Elias about an embarrassing thing Maya had done in class the previous year, and Elias laughed so hard that he had to lean back against the side of the bed.
“You’re lying,” he said.
“I swear I’m not.”
“She actually said that to the teacher?”
“In front of everyone.”
Elias laughed again.
Noah found himself watching him.
There was something about Elias when he laughed.
Noah had noticed it before.
But this time, the realization lingered.
He liked seeing him happy.
More than that.
Noah wanted to be the reason.
The thought arrived unexpectedly.
He immediately looked away.
“What?” Elias asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
Noah turned toward him.
“You’re impossible.”
Elias smiled.
The laughter slowly disappeared.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Noah became aware of how close they were sitting.
Their knees touched.
Their shoulders were pressed together.
Elias’s hand rested on the floor between them.
Noah could see the silver ring on his finger.
He remembered the first time he had noticed it.
He remembered the first handshake.
The borrowed pen.
The hill.
The promise.
The stars.
Noah didn’t know what made him look down at their hands.
Perhaps nothing.
Perhaps everything.
His own hand rested beside Elias’s, only a few inches away.
If he moved it slightly, their fingers would touch.
It was such a small distance.
Ridiculously small.
Yet Noah felt as though crossing it would change something neither of them could undo.
He didn’t move.
Neither did Elias.
Then a voice called from downstairs.
“Elias?”
Both of them jumped slightly.
Elias blinked and looked toward the door.
“My mom.”
Noah stood too quickly.
“Oh.”
Elias got to his feet.
“Yeah.”
Noah reached for his jacket.
“I should probably go.”
“No.”
The word came out immediately.
Too quickly.
Elias seemed to realize it at the same time Noah did.
“I mean, you don’t have to leave.”
Noah looked at him.
Elias ran a hand through his hair.
“Unless you want to.”
“No.”
Noah answered before he had time to think.
Elias smiled.
“Good.”
Noah put his jacket down again.
“Your shirt,” he said, trying to sound normal.
“You still haven’t chosen.”
Elias looked toward the chair.
Then back at Noah.
“That one.”
“You didn’t even try it on.”
“I trust you.”
The words were simple enough that Noah should have been able to let them pass without giving them a second thought.
People trusted one another all the time.
Friends trusted friends.
There was nothing unusual about it, nothing that should have made the air in the room feel suddenly heavier or caused Noah to look away because meeting Elias’s eyes had become unexpectedly difficult.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He trusted him.
Noah wasn’t entirely sure when that had happened.
Perhaps it had begun with something as insignificant as a borrowed pen, or during one of their walks home when Elias had somehow made an ordinary conversation feel important.
Maybe it had happened on the hill, beneath the first stars of the evening, when Elias had held out his hand and asked Noah to promise him a future neither of them could possibly know would ever come true.
Or perhaps it had happened long before Noah was ready to admit it.
He looked toward the shirt hanging over the back of the chair, then back at Elias.
“You know, trusting someone’s opinion about a shirt doesn’t exactly sound like a life-changing decision.”
Elias smiled.
“Maybe I trust you with more than that.”
The teasing tone was there, but something quieter existed beneath it.
Noah heard it.
He was almost certain Elias hadn’t meant for him to hear it, because the moment the words left his mouth, he looked away and reached for the shirt.
Noah watched him for a moment.
“More than that?”
Elias glanced back at him.
“Don’t make me regret saying anything.”
“I didn’t.”
“You’re thinking about it too much.”
“Maybe.”
“You definitely are.”
Noah smiled faintly, although the question remained somewhere in the back of his mind.
More than that.
He wanted to ask what Elias meant.
He wanted to push a little further and find out whether the strange feeling growing between them was something Elias felt too.
But before he could decide whether he was brave enough, Elias’s mother called his name again from downstairs.
The moment passed.
And Noah almost hated how naturally it disappeared.
“You should probably stay for dinner,” Elias said.
Noah looked at him.
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting anything.”
“I only came here to help you choose a shirt.”
“And you did.”
“That took thirty seconds.”
Elias smiled.
“Exactly.
You’ve got plenty of time.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Noah laughed quietly.
He should have gone home.
He had homework waiting for him, and his mother would probably wonder why he was late.
There was no particular reason to stay.
Then Elias looked at him.
“Stay.”
It was only one word.
Noah hated how easily it changed his mind.
“Okay.”
Something softened in Elias’s expression.
“Okay.”
They went downstairs together, and Noah met Elias’s mother properly for the first time.
She greeted him warmly, almost as though she already knew him.
“So you’re Noah.”
Noah glanced toward Elias.
Elias immediately looked uncomfortable.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“You know exactly what.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
“What does she know?”
“Nothing,” Elias said quickly.
His mother smiled.
Noah decided not to ask.
The rest of the evening passed more easily than he expected.
Dinner was simple, warm and filled with conversation.
Elias’s mother asked Noah about school and his plans for the future, while Elias complained about an assignment he had forgotten to finish.
Noah discovered that Elias’s mother had some of the same habits as her son.
She interrupted people when she was excited, laughed loudly when something amused her, and seemed to know exactly how to embarrass Elias with only a few words.
For the first time, Noah saw another side of him.
Elias wasn’t only the boy who waited for him in the mornings or walked beside him after school.
He was someone’s son.
Someone who missed his father but didn’t always say so.
Someone who had lived somewhere else and left part of his life behind.
There were still things Noah didn’t know about him.
The thought didn’t make Noah feel distant.
It made him want to know more.
After dinner, they returned upstairs.
Noah dropped onto the edge of the bed.
“Your mom likes embarrassing you.”
“She lives for it.”
“She was nice.”
“Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s okay.”
Noah laughed.
Elias sat beside him.
This time, he left enough space between them that Noah noticed it immediately.
They talked for a while about nothing important.
The dance.
School.
A teacher Noah was convinced secretly hated him.
Elias told him a story about getting lost in a shopping center when he was eight.
“You’re lying,” Noah said.
“I swear I’m not.”
“You cried?”
“I was eight.”
“You cried?”
“I thought my mother had abandoned me.”
Noah laughed so hard that he covered his face with both hands.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Elias said.
“Absolutely.”
“You’re a terrible person.”
“So I’ve been told.”
When Noah finally lowered his hands, Elias was looking at him.
Not joking.
Not smiling.
Just looking.
The room grew quiet.
Noah felt the strange awareness return.
The same feeling from earlier.
Elias was close.
Closer than Noah had realized.
There was barely any space between them now.
Noah’s hand rested on the bed beside him, and Elias’s was only a few inches away.
Noah looked down.
His heart began beating faster.
Slowly, almost without thinking, he moved his hand.
Their little fingers touched.
It could have been an accident.
Neither of them moved away.
Noah felt Elias turn his head toward him, but he kept looking down at their hands.
His heart was beating too fast for something so small.
A touch could mean nothing.
He knew that.
Friends touched.
People sat close to each other.
None of this had to mean anything.
But Noah wasn’t sure he wanted it to mean nothing.
Elias’s fingers moved slightly.
Noah looked up.
Their eyes met.
There was a question in Elias’s expression.
Noah could see it there, quiet and uncertain, as though Elias was waiting for him to decide whether this was something they were allowed to do.
Noah didn’t have an answer.
But he didn’t move away.
Neither did Elias.
Then Elias’s fingers slowly slipped between Noah’s.
He held his hand.
Properly.
Noah looked down at their joined hands.
He felt the warmth of Elias’s palm against his own and the gentle pressure of his fingers.
Neither of them spoke.
Noah wasn’t sure how long they sat like that.
Seconds.
Minutes.
Perhaps longer.
The rest of the world seemed strangely far away.
There was only the quiet room, the fading light outside the window and Elias’s hand holding his.
Noah knew that something had changed.
Not everything.
Not yet.
They hadn’t said anything that couldn’t be taken back.
They hadn’t given a name to whatever existed between them.
Perhaps tomorrow they would pretend the moment had never happened.
Perhaps one of them would laugh and call it nothing.
But Noah knew one thing.
When Elias finally looked at him again, Noah didn’t feel confused anymore.
Not completely.
There was still fear somewhere inside him.
There were questions he didn’t know how to ask and answers he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.
But beneath all of that was something simpler.
He didn’t want to let go.
And when Elias’s fingers tightened slightly around his hand, Noah held on.