Second dawn

Julien kicks a pebble as he walks across the beach, eyes on his bench but mind far off. Biology. That's his first class, in two hours. And he hates it. But it's fine. Who cares as long as everyone else is content. With how much he's thinking, he walks an inch or two past the bench.

He reverses a step and plops down. Above him, the sky's glaring at him and for a second he glares back. The loneliness sticks to him like a leach. And he likes it. It shouldn't matter. Company doesn't matter. It's not like that random boy would come again today, fill in silence with words and wedge smiles in the spaces left.

Except that's exactly what happens. Craning his neck, Julien glances back and the boy's there, walking closer just like yesterday. Today, Julien notices what he's wearing — a white button-up, black vest and black trousers. Waiter's uniform. It rings a bell in Julien's head but he can't put his finger on it.

"Hi," the boy says, and this time without permission, he sits down beside Julien. He's holding a white rose again.

"Hi." Julien's side-eyeing him but it's not meant to be scrutinizing. He's just trying to discern his features, match them to fragmented memories. But nothing. "Um, look. Yesterday, you said—"

"I said, nice meeting you again. Yeah. Bet you don't remember me. That's fine."

"So. . .Where exactly did we meet the first time?"

The boy smiles. "When's the last time you read the name Valentino?"

"Valentino?" Frowning, Julien leans back in his seat. Valentino. Familiar. Just like the boy said, he read it somewhere. . .On a name tag. In a restaurant. "Oh, yeah! Valentino. You're a waiter."

"Yeah, I work at Collin's Cuisine. You were there once and I served you."

Julien wants to be relieved that he finally figured it out but the awkwardness slams into him now. Scratching the back of his neck, he says, "Yeah, I'm sorry, dude. Most of the time I don't focus on the surroundings a lot that's why I couldn't remember you." Unbearable three-second silence, then: "But I love your name."

Apparently Valentino likes compliments about his name because he smiles and it seems more genuine than ever. Even his shoulders straighten a little. "Thanks. Wanna know what my friends tell me on Valentine's day every year?"

"What?"

"Valentino, will Valentina be your valentine this Valentine?"

Julien snorts. "Lame. Does it piss you off when they say that?"

"Nah," Valentino says, relaxing back with a sigh. "I don't give a shit."

Silence, but the response makes Julien smile. I don't give a shit. That's what he's been aiming for — for nonchalance to kill his heart so that maybe it'd stop aching. Maybe it'd give him a rest.

It's times like these, sitting with a boy next to him whilst drowning in silence, that remind Julien of how terrible he is at socializing. Lines pop in his head, conversations fight to be spoken, but he locks them all in his throat. Better a quiet person than a fool.

Valentino suddenly shifts, pulling his leg up and curving it under him. His torso's tilted towards Julien now. "Why do you come here?"

"To chill out before my first class, usually." Julien shrugs. "I don't know."

"College or. . . ?"

Julien realizes he hasn't specified yet. "College," he says. "I graduated high school when I was seventeen." And you'd think college would be cooler or better than school. But no. Just as horrible, or worse, Julien can't tell anymore.

"Cool." And it's the real cool, not the disinterested type. At least that's what it sounds like. This definite tone of interest in Valentino's voice is a little startling. "What's your major?"

Before Julien answers, he chuckles to himself. He's studying what he hates. Passionless (kinda), hopeless (pretty much). "Medical engineering." There's a level of spite in the words. Julien hunches forward a little and watches a wave roll and crash. Charge and collapse. Such a familiar concept.

"Medical engineering? So you're smart."

"Academically smart, yeah," Julien says. He can't meet Valentino's eye anymore but he laughs like it's nothing. "Trash at everything else."

Valentino's watching his side-profile, Julien can feel that. And he sees it too when he looks at him. There's a little frown on Valentino's face, green eyes blinking slowly. Really slowly.

Julien laughs to shatter the awkwardness. "What's up?"

"It's. . .It's your first year, right? So you're probably still taking the easy stuff. Like, the basics."

Julien's nod is tentative. He's frowning a bit. "Yeah."

"Tomorrow. . ." For the first time, Valentino's voice is weak. Hesitant. He's hesitant. Maybe it's the way he's staring at his lap that gives him away, or maybe the way he's biting his lip lightly. "Can you help me with schoolwork tomorrow?"

"Schoolwork?"

"My brain doesn't understand biology. I need help."

"Um, I mean. . ."

"Please," Valentino says. "I can't fail."

Julien can be an asshole right now and he knows it. He can say no. He can laugh too, tell him: piss off, dude. I can barely tolerate that shit in class. But this is Valentino and Valentino's heartbroken in a painfully relatable sense.

So Julien sighs and says, "Alright. Where?"

"Here. I'll get my books tomorrow with me. I promise I won't annoy you too much. I just have a few questions."

Bracing his hands against his knees, Julien nods. "Okay, I guess."

Valentino's smile is wide enough to show his braces. Julien just now notices them and he remembers that Valentino's only fifteen, in that chaotic stage of crooked teeth and passionate visionary. Still stuck between a child's fantasy and a grownup's reality. It makes Julien smile too.

"I owe you one." Valentino stands up.

Julien cocks a brown brow. "Two."

"Two," Valentino repeats. His smile returns, but it's playful this time. "Minus one."

This makes Julien laugh, short and pitched. "Go to hell, Valentino. Go to hell." But he doesn't mean it, and what he really wants is for Valentino to stay.

"I'm going home." Valentino's looking at his feet, or maybe at what's under and around them. He picks a pebble and hides it in his pocket today too. Before he leaves, he glances at Julien. His eyes glisten. "So that's pretty much the same."