Flyer was practicing a move with his skateboard. He messed it up quite a few times, so I watched carefully to make sure he didn't get hurt. It was difficult for him to put on a helmet because of his spiked green hair. He told me he was going to dye it purple in a few weeks, though. Either way, no matter if his hair is spiked or not, he won't wear a helmet.

We passed the by the Jesus in the park. Flyer circled around it on his skateboard.

I reached into my pockets and pulled out a ten dollar bill, and placed it neatly inside the glass box, next to a stuffed Mickey doll.

Flyer stopped next to me and placed a comb he bought on impulse. "I haven't been able to comb my hair in years," He laughed silently, "The gel turned it into a rock. I don't really know why I bought it in the first place."

I looked up at him and smiled. Green was a really good-looking color on him. His last color, bright red, wasn't so attractive.

I noticed he had been down lately because he hasn't gotten into contact with his mother at all for almost 6 months. Right now I could see the slight sadness that laced his eyes. He really loved his mom.

"Flyer, you ok dude?"

He nodded. "I was just spacing out, Jed." He chuckled a bit.

I smiled back. It was nice seeing him smile when I talked to him, it meant we were still connected somehow. Ever since the infamous Dance Incident for the homecoming dance at the beginning of our sophomore year, we almost stopped talking to each other completely.

Do you really want to know what happened at the homecoming dance? Well...

Flyer kind of forced me to go to the dance, he even bought me a polo and everything, which was really nice of him. I couldn't say no after he went to the trouble.

So, I started dancing with this junior girl that just moved here from the suburbs in Westchester. She was really pretty, shiny black hair with a Spanish tint to her skin. I wish I remembered her name, but I don't, but anyway, we were dancing, and then she asked my name...and I stumbled.

"My name...is..." if she didn't know about my speech problem, she did now. She slowly faded out from dancing with me into the crowd. I stormed out of the gym into the lobby, Flyer followed me, obviously concerned.

"Dammit, Flyer! I can't even tell a girl my name!" But my words came out perfectly with Flyer. "Now everyone must think I'm complete freak!"

Flyer sat down next to me on the lobby's bench. He reached over to my eyes and dabbed his sleeve on them. I didn't even know I was crying.

"Here," he said. He let me grab his sleeve and wipe my eyes with them. "You're not a freak

"Thanks, man."

It was silent. We stared at each other, not with in air of awkwardness, but we were really comfortable around each other. He grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me towards him. I remember meeting his lips. The pair of soft petals that met with mine nervously.

Then we escaped for air. And I looked at him and he looked at me.

"I gotta go." He finally said, bolting towards the door.

I only stared at the door he left through, until I realized I now didn't have a ride home.

It was a dreadful experience, and for a whole month we avoided each other. We started talking again accidentally when I bumped into him in the hall and made both of our stuff knock down, and we just ended up laughing together again like old times.

But now here we were, I was watching the sun shine through his hair, making the green even more bright and exuberant. His brown eyes smiling sadly.

"I'm hungry," He finally said. He hopped on his skateboard and and started riding. "There's this new Cuban place down the street, follow me!"

I found myself jogging beside him, trying to keep up his pace.

I saw the familiar stores and decorations blur past me. Several familiar faces waved or smiled at us.

I loved every street we passed. Everything was the same, Deli, Pizzeria, Crappy Chinese Place, Laundromat, but they were so different at the same time. You could identify which place you liked more, which place had good pasta, which place was a great place to meet cool people. Outsiders see everything as the same, but me and Flyer know each of these places inside and out.

He tucked his skateboard under his arm and pulled the door open. He took a seat at the nearest table.

I looked around. The place was remarkable, there was a mural on the wall of an island paradise. It felt as if sunshine were pouring from that wall. Zeke would've loved this place.

Zeke...I haven't thought about Zeke since his birthday had come and past. We don't talk about him much anymore. He still didn't feel dead after all of these years. Just absent, very much absent. Perhaps when I'll get home I'll read his notebook of poems again so I can remember how much life he sparked within those pages.

Flyer was concentrating on his menu. "I think I'm going to get the carne asada? You?"

"Arroz con pollo." I wasn't a big fan of Spanish food, so something simple would have to do.

--

We were happily full and walking together down the street. Talking about stupid things like the new movie coming out about that dog who can shoot laser beams out of his eyes.

He stretched to yawn, and when he brought his arms back down, mine brushed with his, but we didn't say anything about it.

"Jed, have you ever thought about...what happened at the homecoming dance?"

I nodded. "I have, but it was just an accident, so don't worry."

"Oh..." He shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets, skateboard tucked under his arms. "Yeah, an accident."

We kept walking. I knew he was disappointed.

"Flyer, do you like me? Like, you know, like me?" I haven't gone through the like phrase since I was in the 6th grade with my last girlfriend. It was a bit weird to say, especially to my best friend.

He stopped walking and looked at me. He was serious. "If I said I did would you still be my friend?"

I nodded.

"Promise?" He checked.

"I promise." I was all ears.

"I think I do." He cleared his throat. "Ok? Let's get going." He began walking again and I followed.

I digested what he said in my brain. I reached for one of the arms with the hands disappearing into his pockets and grabbed it, sliding my fingers between his.

"Uh, Jed?" He didn't pull away or grip hard, but he was holding my hand back.

"Yeah?"

"Are we going to walk like this?" He stopped in his tracks, looking at our entangled fingers.

"If you want to."

He nodded. "Sounds good."

We continued walking hand-in-hand into the industrial twilight that you could only experience in a city like New York.

(A/N)

I read this book and it didn't take me long to realize how fabulous Jed and Flyer are, and being the crazed slasher that I am, I just had to write them together. I couldn't help it, they're just both so adorably sweet.