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We sat on the rooftop for a very long time. At some point we ended up lying down, staring up at the stars. Our limbs were entangled and our shared body heat was the only thing keeping us warm, and every so often one of us would drift off before the other nudged us to rouse us. The day had been exhausting, but despite the late hours we were reluctant to leave.

Near four in the morning, Newt spoke up in my ear.

"Thank you, Thomas," he whispered.

I turned my head. Our faces were inches away.

"For what?" I whispered back.

He attempted to shrug in his position. He looked me in the eyes and some of the warmth seemed to have returned to them. I was thankful for the change.

"For being my friend, I guess," he said.

I wanted to laugh. "Thank you too, then," I replied.

Newt shook his head as if I misunderstood. "I haven't had a proper friend in--in a long time. So thank you," he clarified.

My eyebrows scrunched together. "You have tons of friends. Everyone loves you."

Newt's eyes closed. "Not really. I'm usually alone."

I watched him quietly in the darkness. I understood his loneliness more than I was ready to admit.

"It's not all bad luck, you know. Some of it is Finn. He likes to nudge me or trip me or mess with me so I spill things or drop something or lose stuff. I have bad luck, but no one is that unlucky all the time." Newt seemed to be speaking into the darkness, but maybe not to me.

"And everyone laughs, but they're all laughing at me not with me." Newt's eyes opened. "Except for you," he added, his eyes scanning my face. He smiled, then repeated even quieter, "Except for you."

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