The brightness of his eyes was the illumination of a star. Daniel took it in, drank it up, and swallowed up all of the light he could get. He saw something pure and beautiful in the way the other reacted, the childish glee, the kindness he exuded. He was radiating like a sun and Daniel could be blinded. He was drawn in like to the edge of the atmosphere, like coming down from space. He wanted to know this boy and he wanted to know him well, because he realized in that moment that the two of them could be friends. It would be his first friend in this town, and it would be nice to not feel so alone in this school. He shifted, leaning just a bit closer so that prying ears could barely hear Daniel. Davidâs ramblings were sweet, air-light and kind. He was excited to show Daniel places in town, elated to have him as company. His heart felt warm and it was one of the softest feelings. He was making a list of these places in his mind, these various locations that he would be shown by this bright-eyed starboy.
 And then it all stopped.
 The word âdateâ had hit him like a freight train. He was back in Cain, Georgia, in that moment. His best friend, Patrick, sitting on his bed. The way he walked to him. The way Patrick asked what was wrong, why was Daniel just standing like that, what why what why what why what why and then how it all froze up. How Danielâs ears, still ringing with Sunday night sermon on his sins fresh and blood-red, burned also with the silence as his hands met Patrickâs face and Patrickâs lips met Danielâs and how the boy had pulled away. Rushed down the stairs. How they had not spoken since. How everything had just stopped so quickly and suddenly and how surprising it had halted.
 And he found that his eyes were wider than he had thought. And how his lips were parted, as though to say something, but he could not. He just stared, and then when he came back, when he was grounded in his body he saw Davidâs flushed complexion and the way his ears turned a hue and how his freckles seemed to fade into the red. He softened. Everything in Daniel softened and he was scared. But he was also delighted.
 "That would be fun,â He replied with a twitched smile, forced but kind. He cursed himself inwardly for this, hoping that the other would not be upset, would not think anything was wrong. Daniel just sat there, timid for a moment, and then spoke up, âWhat kind of ice cream do you like?â
 Thatâd be a good diversion, he thought, as he tried to still the thunder in his veins. Everything was too fast and he thought the room was spinning from the moment heâd found himself back in time, but he was here. He was here. And so was David.
   The sudden lack of conversation hit him like a bus. No, that wasnât quite right- that was far too generous. Something like that happened on accident. It was a tragedy, of course, but it wasnât often anyoneâs fault, and that certainly wasnât the case here. Daniel had gone quiet because of him, because of that stupid slip up, because after all of these years, he didnât know how to do something as simple as talk to someone without screwing it up beyond repair. The silence hit him like his father; like the hard, weathered hand of a drunkard that hadnât worked construction in years, cold as the steel beams it used to work with and just as strong.Â
His eagerness ruined everything. It always had. It was why heâd closed himself off as a child and honestly, perhaps everyone would have been better off if heâd stayed that way. He wouldnât constantly be annoying or upsetting anyone by saying the wrong things. He wouldnât have upset Daniel by saying the wrong thing. He could brood in the corner of the classroom like every other student until class got out, go home, and lock himself in his room like usual, without all of this upset on both sides of every conversation he forced his way into. Hell, maybe his father would even hate him a little less. Heâd always be a disappointment to the man, but maybe he would think his son more of a man if he were a little less open with his feelings at home.
Turquoise eyes blurred. He never should have said anything. He should have gone about his own business. Being friends with David of all people would just make things harder on a new kid, anyway, right? Itâd only get him picked on an shoved into lockers. Itâd-
He blinked when Daniel spoke again, quickened heartbeat instantly settling into a more regular pace. His voice was the mew of a kitten on a bad day, the sun rising to settle the panic of the world below after a particularly chaotic rainstorm. His smile returned, albeit a bit shy; goofy, like a kid on their birthday when told that they could eat at whatever restaurant they chose.
âBlack raspberry.â It was just two words at first as he allowed himself a breath. It was okay. He was okay. He hadnât messed this up. Everybody deserved a friend, even David. No matter how often people told him otherwise. âAny fruit flavour is good, but thatâs my favourite. With extra rainbow sprinkles. I know it doesnât really make a difference what colour sprinkles you get, but those ones always taste the best to me.â
