When Griffin Gago admitted to Charlie Hess that he still hadn’t learned to drive at the age of seventeen, Charlie didn’t laugh or tease him. He only placed his hand on Griffin’s shoulder – gently, warmly – and asked him if he wanted to.

That was the start of the night rides.

They’d been randomly paired together for an English project that would run the course of the Fall semester. Each pairing would be assigned a theme, and over the course of the semester, the partners were to seek out their own choice of novels, films, and other media that exemplified that theme in order to build a presentation. More than anything their teacher, Mrs. Wilcox, wanted them to find new narratives to explore. She’d called it their “contributions to canon.”

Charlie had walked over towards Griffin’s desk when their pairing was announced. He was wearing dark athletic-cut jeans and a white t-shirt beneath a light blue denim jacket. A grey hood hung casually out the back below his neck. Wavy blonde hair touched down a few inches beneath his ears, tucked neatly behind them. He slid into an open desk beside Griffin as the class rearranged themselves and dropped his backpack onto the floor between them. He turned towards Griffin and leaned his head on a closed fist. It was the pose of someone confident and casual, two qualities Griffin was acutely aware that he lacked himself.

“I guess we’ll be hanging out a lot this semester,” Charlie said.

Griffin listened closely for the twist of annoyance or teasing jest in Charlie’s voice that he’d come to expect from most of the guys at their school. He didn’t find any.

“I guess so,” Griffin replied, a smidge less meek than usual.

They hadn’t been assigned a theme just yet – Mrs. Wilcox wanted to give the students a chance to get to know each other’s interests and tastes first.

Charlie sat upright and extended the hand he’d been leaning on out towards Griffin. “I know we already know each other from sharing classes and whatnot, but it feels odd that we’ve never actually introduced ourselves. I’m Charlie,” he’d said with a smile.

Griffin quickly scanned the room. No one else seemed to be doing the same, and usually, that was a sign that Griffin was being pranked. But when Griffin’s eyes came back to Charlie, his smile was still hanging there, friendly and sincere.

“Griffin,” he replied, shaking his hand. He’d been struck immediately by the softness of Charlie’s hand as their fingers wrapped around each other’s palms. Griffin pulled out of the handshake quickly, anxious not to let his fingers linger.

Charlie resumed leaning on his knuckles. “I think I lucked out,” he’d said.

Griffin looked at him puzzled.

Charlie pointed to a pile of books on Griffin’s desk. None of them were assigned reading. “You like reading,” he pointed out flatly. It wasn’t a jab, like it might have been in someone else’s mouth.

“You don’t?” Griffin asked. “Then I’m not sure I lucked out.”

Charlie sat upright again, waving both his hands apologetically. “Oh– no!” Charlie exclaimed. “I like reading too. And believe me, I’d never ask you to do more work than me or anything.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and looked down at the ground. “I just spend more time with films than books. I figured we each could share some of our favorites. Cross-pollinate, or whatever.”

He was being positively sheepish, Griffin remarked to himself. He couldn’t think of another time he’d had that impact on a boy at his school. Usually, the roles were reversed. He knew how uncomfortable it could be.

Griffin flashed a smile and reached out to gently punch Charlie in the shoulder. It was an awkward and uncertain gesture, and they both seemed briefly confused by it. Griffin pushed on. “That’s a great idea!” he said, almost shouting. Reassuring was a new look for him, and it didn’t quite fit yet.

Charlie rolled with it. “Let’s meet up after school – coffee shop or park?”

“After school?” Griffin asked. “I’ll definitely need coffee, that’s prime nap real estate.”

“Huh,” Charlie responded, “somehow you struck me as the type that never sleeps. Too many good books in the world left to read, or something like that.”

Griffin’s eyes darted away and he felt his face get warmer. Charlie couldn’t have known he was bluffing on the nap comment in order to seem more cool and casual – but suddenly he was feeling very seen. He tried to laugh his nerves away.

“Oh you know, just–” the words sputtered out, “uh, reading in my dreams! That’s where the best books are!”

Griffin forced out a nervous laugh. Charlie looked skeptical for a moment, but smiled.

“It’s going to be tough to share your favorite books with me if they only exist in your dreams,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to do my best to meet you there.”

Griffin waved a hand nervously, “Oh, no-no. I have plenty of real books to talk about. I’ll bring you some!”

“That’s a great idea,” Charlie replied. “We can swap our favorite stories. You bring me books, and I’ll bring you movies. Pick me up after you grab your stuff at home and we’ll head to the Coffee Bean?”

“Oh, uh–” Griffin started, “I actually don’t have a car.”

“Oh, no worries, me either,” Charlie responded. “I get to use my dad’s, but not until he’s back from work, which is usually pretty late. I’m saving up for one, though – you too?”

And then, because Charlie seemed so kind and had even rolled with his embarrassing dream-book joke, Griffin told him the truth – that he’d never learned to drive.

He was surprised by the weight of Charlie’s hand on his shoulder, jumping slightly at his touch. Charlie squeezed his shoulder gently. It was a warm and friendly gesture that Griffin wasn’t used to.

“Do you want to?” Charlie had asked.

Griffin nodded, and they made plans for Charlie to pick him up later that night.