He's my best friend || phan

Fifth Grade

I entered me and Phil's secret hideaway, waiting for him to come. I was sat on of the little tree stumps that we used as chairs. In the middle, there was a big, flat garbage can lid we found in the janitors closet that we called a table. I know, pretty junky to you, but to me and Phil, it was pretty cool.

"Hey," Phil said, seemingly out of breath. "Sorry, I just went to go talk to Andrew."

"That creepy, loud guy?" I said.

"Dan, you think everyone is creepy and loud except me. You seriously needs get to know people around here. You could meet new friends," Phil noted.

"Phil, I'm awkward. You know that. I can't talk to anyone but you," I stated, even though I knew that Andrew wasn't any less of an "unpopular" kid than me and Phil were.

Phil giggled slightly at that. "I know, Danny boy." He leaned over the 'table' to poke my cheek.

I smiled back, and we were just stuck there smiling at each other like idiots with nothing to talk about.

"So do you wanna have a playdate tonight? We could work on the science project," I said, after the long silence.

"Yeah, sure! I just have to ask my mom when I get home," he told me.

"Phil, do you even have to ask anymore? She literally lets you walk to my place on your own without any notice," I pointed out.

"Thats true," he sighed.

The day seemed to go on forever and ever, and by the end of the day I felt like I aged 80 years. Nonetheless, the day finally ended, with loads of homework to carry home.

I walked down the path to my house like a slug. I was so tired and I just wanted to get home to my nice, warm bed and fluffy blanket. Then I remembered: Phil's coming over today.

As if he read my mind, I felt someone push me from behind. "Hey Dan!"

"Damn, Phil, I would like to stay alive, thanks," I laughed, almost tripping. Then I realized what I had said.

"Dan!! Watch your language!!" Phil's eyes widened in shock. In fifth grade, 'damn' was a bad word.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to," I apologized. We ended up dying of laughter anyway.

We arrived at my house and raced up the stairs and to my bedroom.

Phil flopped on my bed first. "I win!"

I wasn't able to answer Phil due to my shortness of breath. I swear to you, my body was not made for any kind of exercise. I leaned forward and held my index finger up until I caught my breath. "Okay, I'm good," I chuckled.

"Play more sports Dan! Exercise more, it will help you," Phil attempted to encourage me.

I scoffed. "Like you play any sports."

"Shush," he grinned. "Okay, are we actually going to get any of this project done?"

"Wait, I wanted to show you something," I said, taking Phil's hand and leading him to my mothers bedroom.

"Look what I found," I said, sliding a couple of cardboard boxes from under her bed. I flipped open the flaps, and about a million pictures and frames were in there. I picked up one of them. "That's my dad," I said quietly, pointing to the man standing beside my mom, kissing her cheek. My dad died when I was only a year old.

"Wow," Phil said in awe. "I must say, that is one good looking dad."

I glanced at him. "Really?"

At that, Phil giggled. "You actually look a lot like your dad," Phil said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I winked, but I couldn't hold my laughter for more than five seconds. "Oh my god, Phil!"