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their last sleepover before Christmas, Daniel paused the movie, crossed his arms, raised his chin and did the bravest thing Mark had ever seen anyone do.
    “I’m gay, Mark.” He was defiant until Mark pulled him into a hug that wasn’t hesitant. Daniel melted, so much tension slipping out of him as he mumbled something thankful and relieved against Mark’s neck.
    Mark should have told him in that moment that he thought he was gay as well, but he wasn’t as brave as his best friend, and his brain hurt every time he tried to think about it. So he didn’t.
    ***
    Three months later, though, Mark was sure he was gay. He had kissed a boy he met at the mall. It was only on the cheek, but he giggled and felt something unfurl deep in his gut: the warmth of excitement and feeling right. He never saw the boy again, but it didn’t matter: For the first time, Mark believed that he knew himself.
    Telling Daniel was hard, though. So Mark waited and waited, waited a whole year, and then suddenly it seemed as though he was lying to his best friend. He blurted it out while they were lying across Daniel’s bed playing video games and waiting for the heat of a summer’s day to break.
    He shocked himself into crying—he’d never said it out loud before and didn’t realize how it would feel—big ugly sobs that made snot run out of his nose and stained his cheeks splotchy red. And he had no idea how long he had lain there on his belly, game controller still in his hands, crying to himself. It was probably only a few seconds, because then Daniel was against him, pulling him tight into his arms and hugging him close.
    Daniel shushed him and kissed his hair and then kissed his mouth and that shocked Mark into laughing, pulling back and staring at Daniel, who seemed just as shocked by it all.
    “Shit, sorry, I should not have… that was a weird, purely physical reaction to… gay… boy… or something. I don’t… shit.” Daniel rambled. It was one of the few times that Mark had seen him blush. They ended up laughing until they were on their backs struggling to breathe.
    Mark said he was sorry and Daniel told him that there was nothing to be sorry for.
    ***
    Only a few months later, Mark asked the big question. “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”
    He immediately felt stupid, but this wasn’t just an afterschool hangout and a request on a whim, this was a plan.
    This was his parents out of the house; his and Daniel’s favorite movie playing quietly with their favorite snacks out and mood lighting.
    This was a week before his sixteenth birthday because he wanted, desperately, a sweet sixteenth birthday kiss, and he wanted it from his best friend.
    He swallowed his fears and waited.
    Daniel tackle-hugged him back onto the sofa and held him tight, laughing. “Oh my goodness, I have been waiting for you to ask me that for months!”
    “Can I kiss you now?”
    ***
    “You guys were adorable,” Patrick concedes, interrupting the story for the first time because Mark has paused too long to stare at the backs of his hands, recalling exactly how sweet and messy that first, proper kiss had become. “I went through boys—and girls actually—in high school so fast… I never had anything like that.” He doesn’t sounds jealous, just curious.
    “Are you saying you no longer go through boys and girls as fast as you used to? Getting old?” Mark quips.
    Patrick waggles his eyebrows because they both know he does.
    ***
    It was wonderful for nearly two years. They were the only ones in their group of friends to go steady so easily. And then in the spring of Daniel’s senior year, it all began to fall apart. Neither of them realized it at the time, but it began with a day that Daniel would tell people was arguably the best day of his life so far.
    Mark’s phone rang just as he pulled into his driveway after another long day of school. He took the call in the car and was glad that he did because he was reversing and leaving skid marks on the