Mostly Stardust

"Can I tell you a secret Ari?"  "Can I stop you?"  "You don't like knowing my secrets."  "Sometimes your secrets scare me."

I knew that part of him would never be the same.  They cracked more than his ribs.

The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.

I decided that maybe we left each other alone too much. Leaving each other alone was killing us.

I knew he was trying to organize himself, like a messy room that needed to be cleaned up.

What did words matter to a desert?

Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer morning could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.

He was busy. I was busy.  Mostly I think we were busy avoiding each other.

It wouldn't be summer without Dante's laughter.

"Don't cry, okay?"  "Okay."  "You're crying."  "I'm not."  "Okay."  "Okay."

Don't cry Dante. I'm not disappointed.

We'd lost something and we both knew it.

All you have to do is be loyal to the most brilliant guy you've ever met—which is like walking barefoot through the park. I, on the other hand, have to refrain from kissing the greatest guy in the universe—which is like walking barefoot on hot coals.

Dante had this look on his face. He looked like an angel. And all I wanted to do was put my fist through his jaw.

Tears were falling down his face. I should have expected that. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to tell him that it was me who should be crying.

"I won't hurt you."  You've already hurt me. That's what I wanted to say. Those were the words that entered my head. Those were the words I wanted to slap him with.

"I mean, when do we start feeling like the world belongs to us?"  I wanted to tell him that the world would never belong to us.