TWELVE YEARS EARLIER
Phil was having a bit of trouble finding Dan. They'd promised to meet in the front of the school after their last class, but Dan was late. Tonight they were going to have their very first sleepover. They'd already hung out outside of school tons of times—which Phil always looked forward to. Dan would never say anything to him in school, but at home he would grant him with his voice a good amount of the time. With every passing day Dan found himself more and more comfortable speaking in Phil's presence. He couldn't help feeling like he was winning something.
Phil bit his lip guiltily as his mother finally pulled up in front of the school. He wandered slowly towards her car, leaning in through the passenger window after she rolled it down.
"Where's Dan?" His mother had taken a quick liking to Dan, claiming him to be the most polite and sweetest boy Phil could've ever befriended. "Keep that one close," she'd said mere days after meeting Dan for the second time, during which he'd only spoken to her twice. "It's not every day you make a friend like him."
What his mother didn't know was that Dan really wasn't that polite. He rolled his eyes when people asked dumb questions in class and scoffed under his breath at anyone he deemed less than intelligent. He judged everyone for everything and spent half the time using his eyes to glare. If Phil hadn't managed to become his friend he was sure that Dan would be doing to same to him.
"I don't know," Phil answered anxiously. "I think I should go and look for him..."
"That's okay," his mother said brightly. "Take your time, I'm sure he's in there somewhere."
Phil spun on his heel, heading right back inside Jefferson Junior High. The halls always seemed eery to him after school hours, all the students and teachers gone except for the occasional stray. It almost seemed like a different world, the hallways—normally so boisterous and lively—practically dead. As Phil walked through the school, glancing curiously down the halls, he passed a few custodians, who smiled politely at him.
He couldn't help wondering where Dan had gone. Maybe he'd forgotten that he was coming over tonight? Phil wasn't sure how Dan could've forgotten about their sleepover—it was all he'd been thinking about for the past week—but it was a good enough explanation. Or perhaps he'd become nervous at the prospect of sleeping over with Phil and had walked home instead of telling him?
With a huff, Phil traipsed into the sixth grader's area of the school. Their classes were bunched around here, towards the back, all scattered around the main area full of lockers. Phil had just taken to peering down the locker aisles begrudgingly, sure that Dan was long-gone, when he heard a cough.
He froze before spinning around, attempting to find the source of the noise. "Hello?" he finally called, confused.
"Phil?" a quiet voice murmured, and Phil spun around for a second time.
"Dan? Where are you?"
There was a moment of terse silence. Another cough. "Locker."
Phil gasped, horrified for his friend, and rushed towards where Dan's voice had originating from. He pressed his face against one of the lockers and peered through the slats, saddened to see Dan staring back.
"How'd you get in there?" Phil demanded.
"Doesn't matter," Dan muttered. "Just get me out."
Unfortunately, neither of them knew the locker's combination, as it wasn't either of theirs, and Phil was forced to go hunt down a member of the staff. They were lucky that there was still anyone here at all, but there happened to be a school counselor lingering in the main office, which Phil came panting into.
"Excuse me!" he called. The woman—Mrs. Jones?—jumped, her hand flying up to her chest in surprise.
"Oh my! What are you still doing here?"
Not wasting time for pleasantries, Phil got straight to the point. "My friend's stuck in a locker!" Phil watched as Mrs. Jones's eyes widened, and then she was telling Phil to lead the way, hurrying right after him as he practically ran back down the halls, her keys jangling by her side.
Phil lead her straight to the locker, his pointer finger extended as he marched towards it. "This one," he directed.
"Are you okay in there?" the counselor asked distractedly, now hastily sorting through her keys for the right one. No response came, and her fingers slowed as she looked up towards the locker. "Hello?"
Still without a response, she turned to Phil. "Are you sure it was this locker...?"
"Yes," Phil answered. "He's in there. He just doesn't talk."
"Oh!" she replied. "Little Daniel Howell?"
Phil nodded distractedly, and Mrs. Jones finally procured the right key, jamming it into the locker successfully and turning it in the lock. With a click, the locker door jumped open to reveal Dan, fitting comfortably in the small space but looking embarrassed and defeated. He immediately stumbled out, his eyes fixed firmly to the ground as he stepped closer to Phil.
"Are you okay?" the counselor asked, and Dan managed a distracted nod, not even bothering to make eye contact. "Who did this to you?"
Phil opened his mouth with a deep intake of breath, the names already in his mouth, but Dan punched him hard and unsubtly in the side, and Phil snapped his mouth shut. "Dan probably didn't see," he said abruptly. "You know, he's like—" Trying to lie on the spot was not Phil's strong suit, and without any better ideas for an excuse, he just gestured to the area around his chest. "—short. So he wouldn't have seen their faces."
Mrs. Jones looked extremely skeptical, but Phil could practically feel the waves of desire to leave emanating from Dan. "And my mum's waiting out front so we have to go," he added hastily, before snagging Dan's wrist and tugging him after him, ignoring the surprised look on the teacher's face as they escaped.
Dan was noticeably rather put out about the events of the afternoon. He'd yet to make proper eye contact with Phil or say anything other than what he'd managed in order to be found. More than just embarrassed and sullen, Dan seemed angry. Intermittently his hands would tighten into fists by his sides and his steps would turn into stomps before he got a handle of himself. Seeing as he was only ten, however, Phil wasn't very sure that he'd be able to take revenge in the form of clenched fists and loud stomps—he probably couldn't do anything to combat kids bigger and older than him.
By the time they got to the car, Dan had gotten himself under control and simply looked bored, though he smiled pleasantly enough once they were in the car. It was surprising, how easily he was able to get his emotions under control once it actually mattered to him, once he was around someone other than Phil.
"What held you up?" Phil's mum said in a chipper voice to Dan, her eyes flicking to his in the rearview mirror as she put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. Dan just shrugged.
"No toilet paper."
His mother laughed, and Dan managed a bright smile, his eyes twinkling. Phil laughed as well. Really, he wished that Dan had let him tell that teacher about who had really stuffed him in the locker. He even wished that Dan would tell his mum. He couldn't decide whether he was going to tell her later in private or if he would keep Dan's secret to himself. He also couldn't deny that it was a little unsettling how easily Dan had managed to mask his emotions and manipulate the way he presented himself, though a small part in the back of Phil's mind thought it was kind of impressive as well.
"So I've already got your sleepover stuff—your mum came by to drop it off this morning," Phil's mother said as they pulled into the driveway. Dan nodded obediently, and they all climbed out of the car to head inside. Dan stared around curiously as they walked through the front door, clearly trying to absorb everything he could.
"Welcome to my house!" Phil said jovially, and he swung his arm around Dan's shoulders, who gasped, and lead him up the stairs. Once out of earshot of his mum, he released Dan.
"I wish you'd let me tell on Piers," he said seriously, stopping to lean against the side of the hallway. Dan, obediently, stopped as well, leaning against the other side. He stared down at his feet, silent. He still did this sometimes. Even though he'd now spoken to Phil many times, almost regularly, he would still occasionally fall abruptly into silence. "No need to go quiet on me," Phil added.
Dan huffed. "I don't want to tell on Piers," he said.
"Why not?" demanded Phil immediately. He couldn't see any possible downside, and reveled at the idea of Piers and Carl getting punished. "We need justice!"
Dan scoffed. "Justice isn't real."
"What?" Phil exclaimed. "Of course it is! How could it not be?"
Dan shrugged mildly. "Just look at all the less fortunate people in the world—those living on the streets, those abused, bullied. They're not getting justice."
Phil felt his eyebrows pull down in confusion. He didn't like what Dan was telling him, didn't like the sheer negativity of it all. He shook his head. "You can't think like that."
"What?"
"You can't think like that," Phil repeated. "Plus, if the world isn't giving people justice, then it's up to the rest of us to ensure it."
"You think you can help all those people, homeless on the streets?" Dan countered. Everything he said was quiet, serious. Phil didn't think he'd ever gotten him to speak so much at once, and he guessed it was because this was a topic Dan was passionate about.
"Maybe not all of them, but the ones I help could help others," Phil said stubbornly. "Now stop arguing with me—you need to see my room."
—
Dinner was a quiet affair, with Phil and his parents carrying most of the conversation while Dan dug neatly into his food. He chimed in occasionally, and laughed along with the jokes, but Phil was pretty sure he was only doing so to avoid looking strange in front of his parents.
After dinner, they were ordered upstairs to get ready for bed, which included changing into their pajamas (Phil stripped off his shirt and proudly presented his first three chest hairs, which Dan squinted and leaned in close to see, the tips of his ears tinged pink) and brushing their teeth, their elbows knocking into each other haphazardly, which Phil guessed was the result of having a left-handed friend.
Afterward, they returned to his room to sleep, both climbing into his bed and fighting over the pillows. They must've been giggling too loud because his mother soon appeared in the doorway, telling them to settle down and get some rest. She turned off the light, and Dan clung triumphantly to what was obviously the best pillow on the entire bed.
Phil huffed and closed his eyes, though he couldn't resist kicking Dan one last time, who then kicked him back.
When Phil woke up, it was to find that not only had Dan abandoned his best pillow, he'd decided that Phil was a better pillow entirely, and was sprawled across him. Phil groaned in dissent, maneuvering out from under his still sleeping friend and making his way to the bathroom.
Downstairs, his mother was making breakfast, and she greeted Phil warmly when he stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. "Morning, love," she said over her shoulder, otherwise occupied with the eggs she was making. "Dan still asleep?"
"Yep," Phil croaked, before climbing onto one of the kitchen stools and resting his head on the counter. He gnawed his lip, as something that had been bugging him for a while now surfaced in his mind. "Hey Mum?"
"Hmm?"
"Is it wrong to like boys? Like, as girls like boys."
There was a short moment of silence, during which his mother moved the cooking eggs from the pan to a plate, turned off the stove, and turned around to give him her full attention. "Of course not. Why do you ask?"
"I think that maybe Dan does," Phil said quietly. His mother hummed.
"And why do you think that?"
"Well, whenever I ask him who he likes he says 'nobody'," Phil answered. "Except I can tell he likes someone."
"He could just not want to tell you just yet," his mother said slowly. "Either way, it's up to him to tell you whether he likes a girl or a boy or anyone, so don't go pestering him about it."
Phil huffed. "Fine." His mother was still staring at him, as though waiting for something else... "And Mum?"
She nodded for him to continue.
"Yesterday... well, Dan lied in the car. He didn't take so long because he was stuck without toilet paper—it was because someone stuffed him into a locker."
His mother's eyes widened, and her hand came up to her now open mouth in surprise and horror. "Oh..."
"He wouldn't even tell the teacher who'd done it to him," Phil continued.
His mother groaned, shaking her head. "That poor boy," she said firmly.
Phil felt considerably lighter with the news off his chest, glad that it was now in his mother's hands. She would probably get it sorted with Dan's mum, who would hopefully talk to the school and make sure something like this didn't happen again. Phil simply wasn't able to be with Dan at all times—he couldn't defend him from everyone.
About fifteen minutes later, when the food in the kitchen had grown considerably, Dan came wandering into the room, rubbing his eyes with his hair a mess around his face.
"Morning Dan!" Phil greeted, and Dan blinked at his loud tone. He nodded in response, before climbing onto the stool next to Phil and folding his arms atop the counter which he rested his head in, his eyes closed.
Soon, his mother was fixing them both a plate full of delicious breakfast items and they were both digging in enthusiastically, their feet knocking into each other as they swung them below the counter. Phil rushed off to the bathroom to wash his hands mere moments after finishing, somehow having managed to get syrup all over himself. It was when he was coming back though, that he realized this was a horrible mistake.
He paused outside the kitchen, his blood running cold, as he heard his mother's soft voice. Peering around the edge, he could see that Dan was standing stiff and uncomfortable looking, his hands clenched into fists behind his back.
"...doesn't mean you can't tell me. It's important because this way we can stop something like this from happening again, you know?"
Dan nodded jerkily. "Actually, I need to go home," Dan said. Phil's mother looked surprised, which she shouldn't. She was the one driving Dan away! Phil hadn't meant for her to let Dan realize that he'd told her about what had actually happened!
"Oh, alright... Well, I can drive you then. Come on," she was already crossing the kitchen and grabbing the car keys off the counter. Dan was still standing as if he was cornered, and he was shaking his head already.
"That's okay Mrs. Lester—you really don't live too far from me, and I'd like to walk."
"Nonsense! I'll just drive you over real quick, it's hardly any trouble!"
"No," Dan said. He cleared his throat. "No thanks. Don't drive me."
His mother blinked, and then she set the keys back down on the counter. "Well... okay then. But I want you to call when you get home safely, alright?"
Dan simply nodded, before spinning around to leave. He noticed Phil then, peering around the corner. For a moment, he looked surprised—almost scared—before his expression changed and he was glaring. Phil managed to take one step forward, some sort of apology prepared to stumble from his lips, but Dan practically ran from the house before he could say anything.
Phil yelled at his mother after that, saying that she'd ruined their sleepover and that he hadn't wanted Dan to know that he'd told his mother about his lying. He ended up getting sent to his room, where he fumed alone and resolved to fix things with Dan on Monday. When he realized that Dan had forgotten all his sleepover supplies, his mother didn't even let him go with her to return them, telling him that both he and Dan needed some time to cool off.
Come Monday, Phil felt anxious all over, almost as if it were his first day of school again. He looked around for Dan before class—they usually hung out in the mornings before the bell rang—but he was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, Phil settled for just waiting until English class.
Phil's heart leapt when he saw Dan sitting in his usual seat, and he hurried to the back of the classroom to sit beside him.
"Dan!" Phil said quickly. "I'm so sorry about my mum, and for even telling her! I know you wanted it to be a secret, but..." Phil petered off as Dan refused to acknowledge his presence. He didn't turn to look at Phil, instead continued to stare stoically at the front of the classroom.
Phil even tried to pass him a note during class, but Dan was dutifully taking notes as their teacher talked, which he never did—ever. Phil's note went unseen, or more likely, ignored. When the bell rang, Dan didn't even rush out of class or anything. He gathered his books and things at a normal pace and swung his bag over his shoulder, walking through the classroom as if nothing was wrong.
"Dan," Phil pleaded. "Listen to me..." He paused as he walked out of the room, finding Dan standing still. Momentarily, excitement rushed through him—Dan was finally going to listen!—but it was quickly replaced with dread.
Dan was standing still, facing Piers. Phil immediately crossed his arms.
"Go away, Piers," he snapped, and Piers looked at him, amused.
"I think Dan can handle himself—can't you Dan?"
Instead of bothering to acknowledge him—either Piers or Phil—Dan spun and walked away, looking bored and completely unaffected by the confrontation. Piers scoffed and turned to Phil.
"What's up with him?"
Phil just rolled his eyes and rushed after Dan, except Dan was short and skinny and had already disappeared into the multitude of people around.
Phil even tried to follow Dan home after school—another plan which didn't work.
"Dan, c'mon," Phil whined. "I'm sorry. Just talk to me." Dan would do no such thing, however. He wouldn't even look at Phil, much less talk to him. And when they got to his house, he slammed the door in Phil's face. When Phil knocked, nobody answered, as Dan's mum wasn't home from work yet.
It continued in this manner for the next few days. Disconcertingly, Phil realized that it didn't even have anything to do with him when Dan finally did end his icy ignorance—it was entirely up to Dan. Phil didn't apologize perfectly, didn't pester Dan into acknowledging him. No, Dan just came to school one day and stood beside Phil before class. Phil decided not to acknowledge what had happened over the past week, and Dan did the same.
Still, Phil was almost embarrassingly relieved when Dan actually spoke to him after school—he'd been starting to forget what his voice sounded like.
Dan talking to him again was good timing as well, as the science fair was now just around the corner and though Phil had signed up, he hadn't actually planned anything yet. This wasn't a rare occurrence for him—he'd been procrastinating doing the science fair since nearly the first time he ever did it—and was now almost used to the feeling of stress and panic that accompanied him as the days before the science fair grew shorter.
Thankfully, Dan had no qualms about helping him out with it, and together they worked after school, brainstorming ideas and finally building the one they picked. They ended up creating a device similar to a laser pointer, except instead of a beam of light, the device would shoot an invisible, ultra-powerful magnetic beam onto the target, infusing it with magnetic energy. Thus, the pointer was then able to move whatever object it was being pointed at.
Phil loved creating things, and Dan was ingenious enough to help, which turned them into a pretty good team. They had lots of fun with their invention too, managing to summon things from across the room and even, on one occasion, making Dan float in the air. It only managed to work for so long, however, before Dan came crashing back to the ground.
When it was time for the science fair, Phil stood proudly beside his station, unable to help his gaze moving anxiously around the room, examining all the cool things kids older than him had managed to create. Dan wandered through the room, studying everyone else's inventions before eventually returning to Phil.
"You should win," he said quietly. He always spoke quietly when they weren't alone. It managed to surprise Phil a lot of the time too, because they could go from screaming and laughing in his bedroom to practically whispering in public. Plus, it wasn't like Phil hadn't noticed that Dan usually chose to speak slowly, and almost always looked like he was thinking about exactly what he was going to say before he said it. Phil couldn't imagine caring that badly about what he sounded like, but he didn't begrudge Dan for it.
"Really?"
"I think so," Dan said with a nod. "Number eleven—over there—" Dan nodded towards a booth a fair distance away from them—Phil was number twenty three."—might come close, but I think yours is the best."
Unable to control his excitement, Phil tugged Dan into a sudden hug, who came compliantly, blushing all the while.
"I hope you're right," Phil conveyed, and Dan smiled up at him.
When the judges came, they were all incredibly impressed with what he had managed to make. He used it to lift the objects he'd brought along for the demonstration, and even to lift one of their ties, which made them all 'ooh' and 'aah' between bouts of laughter. One judge leaned down close to Phil to relay: "An incredible invention young man—what's your name?"
He and Dan stood shoulder to shoulder, bouncing with excitement, when the judges finally got on the stage to present the awards. The whole gymnasium fell silent as the lights dimmed, and a microphone was run out to judges.
"In third place," the balding judge said dramatically, and the room was silent, as if everyone was simultaneously holding their breath. The other judges stood along the side of the stage, almost hidden in the dark as their spokesperson stood in the spotlight to present the awards."Number forty-four, Eric Mason!" Applause broke out, and Phil shared an excited look with Dan. Assuming he did better than Eric Mason, he was now in the running for first and second place...
The judge went on to explain Eric's invention, some kind of helicopter thing that Phil could care less about when he was this full of nerves. It took about two minutes before they were done praising the invention.
"And now, in second place!" the judge continued. Dan surprised Phil but reached out and gripping his hand, but Phil just squeezed it back in response. "Number twenty-three, Phil Lester!"
Phil tried to hide how crestfallen he felt as applause broke out around the room. Dan's accompanying gasp easily relayed his surprise, and Dan slipped his hand out of Phil's. People all around the room were turning to look towards his set up, towards his invention, as the judge explained it and how ingenious it was.
Not ingenious enough for first place, Phil thought bitterly. It was ridiculous of him. Second place was good, it really was, but he couldn't help the fact that he'd been hoping to come in first.
He turned to Dan, not even entirely sure of what he was going to say, only for his eyes to widen in surprise. Dan was gone.
Had Phil been so caught-up in his self pity that he hadn't noticed Dan leaving? Or had Dan been annoyed by the fact that he was upset for not getting first, and left? Or maybe he didn't want to be seen standing next to Phil's stand, mere second place...
Suddenly, there was a commotion up on stage, and one of the other judges came running towards the presenter, before hastily whispering into his ear.
"What? Are you sure?" the balding judge said, loud enough that it was picked up by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room.
Phil was startled as someone banged into his shoulder, but it was only Dan.
"Where'd you go?" he whispered.
"Dire urge to pee," Dan dramatically conveyed. He was panting—he must have run back from the bathroom. "What's going on up there?"
"Dunno..."
"So sorry folks—my cards got mixed up. This is completely embarrassing you see, but Phil Lester actually got first place."
For a moment, there was stunned silence, and Phil felt his jaw drop. What luck! Confused applause followed, and Phil momentarily felt bad for whatever person was now second place, but he turned to Dan in excitement.
"Can you believe it?!" he exclaimed.
"Hardly," Dan answered, but Phil had already pulled him into a hug and jumping up and down.
Later, with his blue first place ribbon pinned to his shirt and his magnetic laser pointer lifting up every inconsequential thing in his path, he turned to Dan. "Want to come out to dinner with me and my mum?" he asked. It was a celebratory dinner, one that his mother had informed him of before he left for the science fair, regardless of whether he won or not.
"I don't know..." Dan said now, kicking a rock down the sidewalk. Phil pointed at it and swung it into the air. "I just don't feel too well, you know?"
"What?"
"Stomach ache," Dan muttered. Phil studied Dan's face and couldn't help but feel like he looked guilty.
"Hey," he said, and he stopped walking, causing Dan to do the same. "About what you did..."
"What?"
"I don't mind that you missed the judge's reviews," Phil said with a shrug. "A man's gotta pee when a man's gotta pee. Stop looking so guilty."
Dan's eyes widened, and he nodded. "Er—yeah. That. I am sorry, you know."
"Don't be," Phil answered, and he swung his arm around Dan's shoulders as they walked. Dan stumbled a little, but he quickly righted himself, his cheeks tinged pink. "So you can't come to dinner then?"
Dan blinked, looking dazed. "Oh! No—I mean yes, actually. I can come."
"But what about your stomach ache?" Phil questioned, frowning in confusion.
"It's gone," Dan said firmly. "Now where are we going for dinner?"