The bed was soft, the sheets cool against his hot skin. He sank into it and looked up at the tiny planets frozen in their orbits around a softball-sized sun. It wasn't to scale, of course; no model built to scale could fit in anything smaller than a stadium, but as model solar systems went, it was pretty cool.
"I thought you'd be on the couch," Marshall said.
Dash just shrugged. "I like your room. It feels . . . homey."
"So you're gonna kick me out of my own bed now?"
"Hey, I told you I could take care of myself. You're the one who dragged me home with you and insisted on looking after me."
"You shouldn't be alone when you're sick."
Dash shrugged and looked away. "Sorry I freaked out like that."
"What was it, a nightmare?"
"I guess. I don't remember."
"Why'd you hide out in the basement?"
"I don't know. I wasn't thinking clearly. Glad you found me, though."
"That makes two of us. Dad and I drove out to the mill cause I thought you might've gone home. But I could tell you hadn't been there for days."
"Oh, I don't live there anymore. I just have some of my things still there. I'm moving them to my new place soon."
"What new place?"
"I can't tell you. It's not you-I'm not telling anyone. If no one knows where to look, I can't be found."
"What are you planning that you think people will come looking for you?" Marshall asked, with a hint of a smile.
"I don't know yet. Want in?"
"I just hope it's someplace warm, or you're gonna get sick again."
"Nah, I'm good."
Marshall grabbed his PJs and went into the bathroom to change. When he came back, Dash was sitting up and reaching up to touch Pluto. "Poor little guy," he said. "Nobody takes him seriously. He's not an important planet like Mars or big like Jupiter. He could disappear from the solar system, and nobody would know it for years." He settled back on the pillow and coughed. "If I died right now, nobody in this town would even notice. Maybe a year from now, someone would look around and say something like, 'Whatever happened to that kid with the hair?' And someone else would say, 'I don't know, but good riddance. He was nothing but trouble.' Meanwhile, I'd be a pile of bones in a shallow grave, and they'd never find me. Because nobody cares."
Suddenly something smacked him in the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"
"I'd care!" Marshall shouted. "My whole family was out there in the streets after dark, looking for you cause we thought you wandered off somewhere! Why do you think you're here? Because we care about you! Don't be an idiot!"
Dash just sat there and blinked. For the first time in . . . forever, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. Plus his throat was starting to hurt again, so talking may not have been the best idea. Finally he managed a whispered, "Sorry."
Marshall looked surprised; Dash never apologized for anything. "It's okay," he said. "Listen, it's getting late. You should get some sleep. I'll leave the light on if you want." He grabbed his favorite quilt and started for the door.
"Stay," Dash rasped. "Please? I . . . don't want to be alone right now."
"It's okay. I'll just be right downstairs."
"Please? There's room if I scootch over."
Marshall considered it, then dropped the quilt and climbed into the bed as Dash slid over towards the wall. "You want the light on?"
"Nah, it's okay."
It was hard to get up again after getting into the warm bed, and crossing the room to reach the light switch was like a ten-mile slog across the desert, but Marshall did it, and just in time, as he heard parental footsteps on the stairs coming to check on them. He crawled under the covers and turned to face the door, so that he and Dash were lying back to back.
The door creaked slightly as it opened. It was a new house, and nothing should creak, but all hinges in Eerie creaked even a little bit. The light from the hall spilled into the room, and a shadow fell over them.
"Good night, boys," Marshall's mother whispered, and then she closed the door behind her.
Marshall waited until he was sure she was gone, and then he whispered, "Dash?"
"Hmm?" So he wasn't asleep yet.
"If you died right now . . . I'd pay for your funeral."
"What, out of your paper route money?" The other boy sounded amused.
"Well, maybe I'd need my parents' help. A little. But it'd be my idea."
"Because you care."
"Because you're my friend."
"Thought you said we weren't friends."
"No, you said we weren't friends. Except when you need something, or it's dinner time. You can't have it both ways. Either we're friends, or we aren't. Not just some of the time. Always."
Dash was silent for so long that Marshall wondered if he'd fallen asleep. Then he said, "Okay. You've got yourself a deal."
"Good night, Dash."
"Thanks for caring. It's nice to have someone who cares."
"Any time, man. Any time."
And with that, Dash let himself drift off, secure in the knowledge that he wasn't alone in the world anymore. Someone cared about him. He might not have a past, but at least now he had a friend.
