Title: Shoes
Fandom: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Rating: G
Length: 561 words
Summary: The boys come home for the summer from university.


Dante’s shoes were discarded in the lawn even before he stepped into his parent’s house. He had been itching to get rid of his shoes all throughout spring semester. Now with summer break upon us, those shoes were immediately divorced from his person.

We had gone to separate universities, but they were only a half hour away. With class schedules, my work schedule, his club meetings, and my truck isolated in freshman Timbuktu parking lot, we saw each other as often as we could. This resulted in me driving out to get him maybe once a week. We would talk and hold hands and just be together. It was nice. It felt like our private space.

For summer break, we had promised to see each other as often as possible until our parents would inevitably commented that they never saw us. We would swim. We would talk for hours.

After a week of being home, we finally went swimming. Afterwards, Dante had begrudgingly reunited with his shoes, so we could eat at our favorite burger joint. We sat down with our order, and he grabbed a French fry to accentuate his point as he discussed the unbelievable position his history professor held. I listened, as I usually enjoyed doing as he passionately ranted about something. He ate the fry and reached for my hand. I flinched back and stared at my food. His hand returned to his food and he asked, “Ari, have you gone fishing before?”

I swallowed my bite and shook my head, slowly bringing my eyes to meet him. “Why do you ask that?”

He pointed up to the speaker. Some country sounding song was playing and barely noticeable over the other customer’s conversations. I caught the catchy fishing in the dark chorus.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I have.”

“Will you take me?”

I laughed. It was so like Dante. “Not in the dark. That’s not exactly safe.”

“No silly. Just a normal fishing day or experience.”

I nodded, and he took another French fry and went back to ranting about his of the history professor.

——-

The sun was beating in Dante’s bare feet that were threaded out the window of my truck. He was slumped back and propped himself up on his arm. Dante twirled his hand as he explained some mystery of love to me. He was still freer with his actions and feelings than me. I am trying. He smiles encouragingly as I try.

We parked at my favorite spot and took to the path. Dante’s head swiveled as he took in the green overgrowth. We set our equipment on the side of the river and cast out our lines. We sat near and waited the fish to take notice of our lures. Dante reached out to take my hand and I immediately started to pull away.

“Ari,” He held out his hand to me. “I understand, but there is no one here.”

I stare at his hand as the seconds awkwardly tick on. I am still uncomfortable with public displays of affection in our home town, especially with the beating Dante had before we went to university. It felt unnatural. No, that isn’t right. It felt daring and I was still becoming used to this daring. I wanted to be daring.

I swallowed. He reached a little further to encourage. I took his hand.