The sun was already setting when Phil appeared on the school porch. He was fidgeting with something hidden behind his back, and he looked like a guy about to jump into cold water from a diving board — terrifying, but there was no turning back.
Teddy stood by the bike rack, adjusting the strap of his backpack, quickly typing something on his phone. His curls escaped from under his hood, tangling in the wind, and even from behind, Phil would have recognized them among a thousand.
He didn't see how Phil took three deep breaths, how he tugged at the hem of his hoodie, how he stared at his sneakers like he was asking them for courage.
— Hey, — he said, a little louder than necessary.
Teddy looked up. The evening sun hit his green eyes directly, and for a second they became transparent, like bottle glass. The freckles on his nose and cheekbones looked like a scattering of gold coins in that light.
— Hi, — Teddy smiled, putting his phone away. — What's up with you?
— Nothing, — Phil took a step, then another. — This… this is for you.
He pulled his hand out from behind his back abruptly, as if afraid he'd chicken out at the last second. In his fingers was a small bouquet — wild daisies tied with simple twine. The most ordinary ones, the kind old ladies sell near the subway. But for Phil, right now, they were the most important flowers in the world.
Teddy looked at the daisies, then at him. Something elusive flickered in his green eyes — surprise mixed with something warm, something he himself probably didn't yet have a name for.
— Whoa, — Teddy said quietly. A curl fell onto his forehead, and he blew it away absentmindedly. — What's the occasion…
— No occasion, — Phil interrupted too quickly, feeling his ears betray him with a blush. — I was passing by, and… I thought they'd suit you. They're… white, like your shirt, — he finished awkwardly and mentally kicked himself.
A pause hung in the air. Somewhere in the distance, a car honked, someone laughed at the other end of the yard, but for Phil, the whole world had shrunk to Teddy, to his hands slowly reaching for the bouquet.
Teddy took the flowers. Carefully, with his fingertips, as if they were fragile as a dream. He brought the daisies closer to his face, and for a moment he was right next to the white petals — curls, freckles, green eyes with lowered lashes.
— They smell like summer, — he said quietly, and the corners of his lips twitched into a smile.
Phil exhaled. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath the whole time.
Teddy looked up. He was looking straight at Phil, a little teasing, but warm. The freckles on his cheeks seemed to glow.
— Thanks, — he said, and in that "thanks" there was something else, some secret that Phil didn't yet know how to read, but his heart was already starting to guess.
Teddy tucked the bouquet into his backpack carefully so as not to crush it, and bumped Phil with his shoulder.
Phil nodded. He walked beside Teddy, feeling that now, besides the air between them, there was something else — light, almost weightless, like the scent of daisies. And it seemed to him that Teddy was walking a little closer than usual.
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