‘There’s a rainbow,’ Dan says. ‘Right over the gym.’Phil turns his head in its direction, but his gaze lands off to the left.‘What is it like?’ he asks, shuffling a little closer to his schoolmate on the wooden bench they share. The home bell has long since rang and, as per usual, Phil’s older brother is running late in his beat-up Vauxhall. ‘The colours, I mean. Describe them to me?’‘Alright.’ Dan laughs, nervous. Why is he nervous? ‘I’ll try.’With squinted eyes, he follows the arch through the clearing sky, wondering how he’s supposed to capture its natural beauty with mere words.‘The bottom two are indigo and violet, but I don’t remember which is which. To be honest, they look pretty much the same.’ He’s butchering this already. Dan runs a hand through his hair, curling from the moisture in the air. ‘They’re pretty, I suppose?’‘But what are they like?’ Phil asks. He’s grinning - Dan assumes it’s at his incompetence. ‘How would it feel to hold them?’‘Like velvet.’ Dan’s surprised at the truth of those words, even as they leave his own lips. ‘Yeah, soft and rich. Like a velvet dress.’‘Huh,’ Phil muses, subconsciously rubbing a thumb against his blazer. ‘Cool. What about the others?’‘Next is blue,’ Dan says, and he already has something in mind for that one. ‘Like your eyes.’‘So, useless then?’‘No,’ he whines. ‘Don’t ruin it, this is embarrassing enough.’‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ Phil laughs. ‘Blue like…’‘Like the sea on a hot day. Cool and fresh and-’ His gaze flicks to Phil’s eyes, but of course he doesn’t notice. ‘And calming, safe.’‘Minus the seaweed wrapping around your foot.’‘Yeah, minus that.’ Dan’s dimples deepen as he smiles. ‘Then it’s green. Green is mowed grass and sour apple candies and-’‘I thought apples were red?’‘Sometimes. Not always.’‘Huh. Okay. And then?’‘Yellow.’ Momentarily, Dan closes his eyes, tilts back his head. ‘Yellow is the sun on your face. Warm.’ He opens them again. ‘Then it’s orange and that’s, similar? I guess? Actually, the colour was named after the fruit so I guess it tastes like oranges.’‘That seems like cheating, but alright.’ Phil’s head drops to lean on Dan’s shoulder. Dan’s heart beats out of his chest. ‘How many others are there?’‘One,’ Dan says. ‘Red.’But how does he describe red? He’s used apples, and even then it’s not quite right. What is red? It’s deep, it’s intense, it’s passionate, but what is it? Fleetingly, blood comes to mind, but no, that’s not right. It’s the point of having blood, of wanting it to continue pumping through your veins. It’s-‘Red,’ Dan repeats, voice quivering a little, ‘feels like this.’Slowly, so slowly, he cups Phil’s face. Enough that Phil has ample time to pull away, but instead he straights up into it, faces his best friend. Dan’s breathing hitches as he runs his thumbs across Phil’s soft cheeks. Then, ever so softly, he kisses him.Their lips linger through each gush of breath, the world spinning around them. With his eyes closed Dan feels nothing but Phil, and sees only red.‘I…I like that one,’ Phil says when they finally pull away. ‘Think that one’s my favourite.’
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