The morning after Elias left, Noah woke with the strange and almost embarrassing certainty that something had changed.
For a few seconds, he couldn’t remember what it was.
He lay beneath his blankets, half asleep, staring at the pale shape of the ceiling while the last fragments of a dream disappeared from his mind.
The room was cold.
The curtains were still closed.
Somewhere beyond his bedroom door, the house remained quiet enough that he could hear the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
Then he remembered.
Elias standing in the hallway.
Elias’s hand around his wrist.
The way he had smiled before leaving.
Tomorrow.
The memory returned so suddenly that Noah closed his eyes again.
It was ridiculous, really.
They had seen each other almost every day for months.
There was nothing unusual about knowing that he would see Elias at school.
There was nothing particularly remarkable about receiving a message from him in the morning or walking beside him between classes.
Except that there was now.
Noah turned onto his side and reached for his phone.
There was a message waiting.
Morning.
The screen illuminated his face in the darkness, and Noah smiled before he could stop himself.
He stared at the single word for a few seconds, wondering whether Elias had been awake for a long time or whether he had written the message immediately after opening his eyes.
The thought was strangely comforting.
Somewhere, perhaps still lying in his own bed, Elias had woken up and thought of him.
Noah typed a response.
You’re awake early.
The answer came less than a minute later.
So are you.
Noah pulled the blanket higher around his shoulders.
I didn’t choose this.
Your alarm hasn’t even gone off yet.
Noah glanced toward the clock.
Elias was right.
He frowned.
How do you know that?
There was a pause.
Then:
Lucky guess.
Noah narrowed his eyes.
You’re creepy.
Good morning to you too.
Noah smiled.
The conversation continued while he got ready for school.
He carried his phone from his bed to the bathroom, balanced it against the sink while brushing his teeth and nearly dropped it twice while trying to answer Elias with one hand.
At one point, his mother opened the bathroom door without knocking, took one look at the expression on Noah’s face and immediately smiled.
“No.”
Noah looked up.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
His mother leaned against the doorframe.
“I asked first.”
Noah put his phone face down.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Mom.”
She laughed quietly and stepped away from the door.
“You’re going to be late.”
Noah waited until he heard her footsteps disappear down the hallway before picking up his phone again.
There was another message.
You still there?
Noah typed back immediately.
Unfortunately.
A few seconds later, Elias replied.
There he is.
Noah shook his head.
He hated how easily Elias could make an ordinary morning feel different.
By the time he left the house, the sky had cleared completely.
The rain from the previous day had left the streets damp, and the air carried that clean, cold smell that always followed a long night of bad weather.
Noah shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and began walking toward their usual corner.
Elias was already there.
Of course he was.
Noah saw him before Elias saw him.
He was standing beneath the streetlamp with one shoulder resting against it, looking down at his phone.
There was something so familiar about the sight that Noah slowed his steps without realizing it.
He had stood there waiting for Elias before.
He had seen Elias stand there waiting for him.
The corner was nothing special, just another part of an ordinary street, but somehow it had become theirs.
Elias finally looked up.
The moment he saw Noah, he smiled.
“There you are.”
Noah stopped in front of him.
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
Elias frowned.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You said there you are.”
“Yes.”
“As if you were looking for me.”
“I was.”
“You knew where I was.”
“I still missed you.”
Noah stared at him.
Elias immediately smiled wider.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Say things like that before eight in the morning.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t had coffee yet.”
Elias laughed.
They began walking toward school, their shoulders brushing occasionally as they moved along the wet pavement.
For the first few minutes, neither of them said much.
Noah was still waking up, and Elias seemed content to let the silence exist between them.
Noah liked that about him.
Elias never seemed to demand conversation simply because they were together.
At some point, their hands touched.
It happened accidentally at first.
Noah’s fingers brushed against Elias’s.
Then again.
Neither moved away.
Noah looked down.
Elias noticed.
“Problem?”
“No.”
“You’re staring.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
Noah glanced toward him.
Elias’s hand remained close to his.
Noah smiled slightly.
Then he reached for it.
Elias’s fingers closed around his almost immediately.
It felt natural.
That was the thing Noah couldn’t stop thinking about.
There had been a time when even the idea of this would have made him nervous.
Now he couldn’t imagine why he had spent so much time pretending that he didn’t want it.
They continued walking.
A car passed them, spraying water from a shallow puddle beside the curb.
Noah jumped back.
Elias laughed.
“Don’t.”
“You should have seen your face.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Noah looked at him.
Elias smiled.
There it was again.
That answer.
Noah shook his head.
“You’re becoming way too confident.”
“Maybe I have a reason.”
Noah didn’t answer.
Elias squeezed his hand.
By the time they reached the school gates, Noah had almost forgotten they were holding hands.
Almost.
The moment they entered the grounds, he became aware of the students around them and the possibility of being noticed.
His first instinct was to let go.
His second was to realize that he didn’t want to.
Elias didn’t pull away either.
They continued walking.
Then Maya saw them.
She was standing near the entrance with a coffee in one hand and her backpack hanging from one shoulder.
Her eyes moved from Noah’s face to Elias’s, then slowly downward.
She noticed their hands.
Noah knew it.
Maya looked back at him.
“Interesting.”
Noah sighed.
“Good morning.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Elias laughed beside him.
Maya raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“Good.”
“I said I’m not going to ask.”
“Then don’t.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Noah began walking again.
Maya followed.
“You’re making it difficult, though.”
“Making what difficult?”
“Not asking.”
Elias smiled.
“She’ll ask eventually.”
Maya pointed at him.
“See?
At least someone understands me.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
“I think it’s too late.”
Noah let go of Elias’s hand as they entered the building.
Maya immediately looked at the space between them.
Noah glared at her.
“Don’t.”
She held up both hands.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking something.”
“I am always thinking something.”
“That is exactly the problem.”
She laughed.
The first part of the day passed slowly.
Noah tried to focus on his classes, but it was difficult when Elias sat only a few seats away.
He found himself noticing things he had never paid attention to before.
The way Elias tapped his pen against the desk when he was bored.
The way he ran a hand through his hair whenever he was thinking.
The small crease that appeared between his eyebrows when he didn’t understand something.
At one point, the teacher asked Elias a question.
Elias looked completely unprepared.
Noah had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.
Elias glanced toward him.
Noah immediately looked down at his notebook.
“Mr.
Bennett?”
Noah heard Elias answer something.
The teacher sighed.
Noah’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
When the bell finally rang, Elias caught up with him in the hallway.
“You’re an awful person.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were laughing.”
“I was coughing.”
“You were smiling.”
“I smile when I cough.”
Elias stared at him.
Noah tried to remain serious.
He lasted three seconds.
Elias shook his head.
“I hope you fail.”
“You need me.”
“For what?”
“To pass.”
Elias considered that.
Then he smiled.
“Fine.
You’re forgiven.”
“How generous.”
“I know.”
They went to lunch together, although Maya joined them before they could escape to their usual place.
She sat opposite them, placed her coffee on the table and looked between the two of them with the expression of someone trying very hard not to say something.
Noah noticed immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You have that face.”
“I have one face.”
“You have several.”
Maya looked offended.
Elias laughed.
“What face?”
“The one where you know something.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“You’re lying.”
“Probably.”
Noah leaned back in his chair.
“I hate both of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Elias said.
Noah looked at him.
Maya looked at Elias.
Then back at Noah.
“Oh, that’s cute.”
Noah covered his face with one hand.
“This is going to be unbearable.”
“Absolutely,” Maya said.
The conversation eventually moved to the school dance.
Maya had already decided what she was wearing and had somehow managed to extract information from half their year group about who was going with whom.
“I still don’t understand why anyone cares this much,” Noah said.
“Because it’s fun.”
“It’s a dance.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
Elias leaned back in his chair.
“I think he’s scared.”
Noah turned toward him.
“Of what?”
“Dancing.”
“I am not scared of dancing.”
“Prove it.”
“No.”
Maya smiled.
“Oh, he is definitely scared.”
“I hate you too.”
“You’re very dramatic today,” Maya said.
Noah pointed toward Elias.
“He started it.”
“I asked if you could dance.”
“You accused me of being afraid.”
“You are afraid.”
Noah looked at him.
Elias smiled.
For a moment, Noah forgot Maya was sitting there.
It was becoming increasingly easy to forget other people when Elias looked at him like that.
After lunch, Noah finally escaped to the library.
He had an assignment due at the end of the week and, unlike Elias, he was actually trying to finish it.
He found a table near the back and opened his notebook.
Five minutes later, Elias appeared.
Noah looked up.
“No.”
Elias stopped.
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“I just came to study.”
“You don’t study.”
“I study.”
“You distract people who are studying.”
Elias pulled out the chair opposite him.
“Then ignore me.”
Noah looked at him.
“You’re impossible to ignore.”
The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
Elias went quiet.
Noah immediately lowered his gaze to his notebook.
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds.
Then Elias smiled.
“That was almost nice.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“I might.”
Noah shook his head.
They spent the next hour pretending to work.
Noah managed to write two paragraphs.
Elias wrote almost nothing.
Instead, he kept finding excuses to speak, asking Noah questions that had nothing to do with the assignment and then acting offended whenever Noah told him to be quiet.
Eventually, Elias leaned forward.
“Can I ask you something?”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Yes, I do.”
Elias smiled.
“No, you don’t.”
Noah sighed and put down his pen.
“What?”
Elias looked at him for a moment.
“Are you happy?”
The question caught him off guard.
Noah frowned.
“What kind of question is that?”
“A normal one.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Fine.
Are you?”
Noah looked down at the pages in front of him.
He thought about it.
The honest answer was more complicated than he expected.
“I think so.”
Elias waited.
“You think so?”
Noah nodded slowly.
“I don’t know.
Things are good.”
“That sounds uncertain.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why do you sound like you’re convincing yourself?”
Noah looked at him.
Because that was the problem with Elias.
He noticed things.
Not everything, and not always immediately, but the things that mattered somehow found their way past Noah’s defenses.
“I am happy,” Noah said eventually.
“I just don’t think about it very often.”
Elias’s expression softened.
“Maybe you should.”
“Why?”
“So you remember.”
Noah smiled faintly.
“Remember what?”
Elias looked toward the window.
“The good days.”
For some reason, Noah couldn’t answer immediately.
He looked at Elias, wondering what he meant by that, but before he could ask, the bell rang.
The moment disappeared.
They packed their things and left.
After school, Noah expected Elias to walk toward the bus stop with him, but instead Elias caught his sleeve and pulled him in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“That’s not a place.”
“It’s enough of one.”
Noah followed anyway.
They walked through the city without any particular destination.
They stopped at a small store because Elias wanted something to drink, argued about which snack was objectively the best and eventually ended up sitting on a bench near a quiet street Noah had never paid much attention to before.
The afternoon stretched around them.
They talked.
Not about anything important at first.
Then, somehow, about everything.
Elias told Noah about being younger and getting lost while traveling with his family.
Noah told him about the time he had accidentally broken a window and blamed it on the wind.
Elias didn’t believe him.
Noah insisted he had been seven and therefore morally innocent.
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“I was seven.”
“You were a criminal.”
“I was a child.”
“Same thing.”
Noah laughed.
The sun was beginning to disappear by the time they finally stood and started walking again.
Neither of them mentioned going home.
They simply continued.
At some point, Elias asked, “Where would you go?”
Noah looked at him.
“If you could go anywhere.”
Noah thought about it.
“Somewhere far away.”
Elias smiled slightly.
“How far?”
Noah looked ahead.
The streetlights were beginning to come on one by one.
“Far enough that nobody knows me.”
Elias was quiet.
Then he said, “I’d know you.”
Noah stopped walking.
Elias stopped too.
For a second, neither of them moved.
The city continued around them.
Cars passed.
Someone laughed somewhere across the street.
The sky above them was slowly becoming darker.
Noah looked at him.
“You can’t just say things like that.”
Elias smiled faintly.
“I know.”
“Then why do you?”
“Because they’re true.”
Noah looked away.
Elias stepped closer.
Their hands found each other again.
Noah didn’t know how long they remained standing there before continuing their walk.
He only knew that by the time they reached his street, the first stars had begun appearing in the sky.
He looked up.
Elias followed his gaze.
“Stars again.”
Noah smiled.
“I like them.”
“Why?”
“They remind me that there are things bigger than us.”
Elias was quiet.
Noah looked toward him.
“And you?”
Elias stared upward.
“I think I like them because they’re so far away.”
Noah smiled faintly.
“So far away.”
Elias looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
Noah shook his head.
“It’s stupid.”
“I’ll decide that.”
Noah hesitated.
Then he smiled.
“If you ever ask me where I want to go, I’m going to say somewhere far away.”
Elias waited.
“And if you ask me how far?”
Noah looked at the sky.
“So far away.”
Elias smiled.
“I’ll remember that.”
Noah didn’t know why the words affected him.
Perhaps because Elias said them so simply.
As though remembering was something easy.
As though people didn’t forget.
As though every moment they had together would remain exactly where it belonged.
They reached Noah’s house a few minutes later.
The lights were already on inside, and Noah knew his mother would ask why he was late.
“I should go,” Elias said.
Noah looked at him.
“You always say that.”
“Because I eventually have to.”
“You could stay.”
Elias smiled.
“Your mother might murder me.”
“She likes you.”
“Your mother barely knows me.”
Noah smiled.
“She knows enough.”
Elias laughed softly.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
Then Noah stepped closer.
The kiss was gentle.
Not hesitant anymore.
Not entirely.
Noah had begun to understand the shape of Elias’s movements, the warmth of his hands and the way he always seemed to pause for half a second before kissing him, as though giving him the chance to change his mind.
Noah never did.
When they finally pulled apart, Elias rested his forehead briefly against Noah’s.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Elias stepped away.
Noah watched him walk down the street.
Then, before he could disappear around the corner, Elias turned back.
Noah was still standing there.
Elias smiled.
Noah smiled too.
For now, the future was nothing more than an empty road stretching somewhere beyond their sight.
They were young enough to believe that time belonged to them, that there would always be another morning, another walk to school, another afternoon to waste talking about nothing.
Noah stood beneath the darkening sky and watched Elias disappear from view.
Then he went inside, unaware that one day he would give almost anything for one more ordinary evening like this.