Mark: He and Trent sat down on a couch, holding hands gently. They asked each other questions and talked about themselves.
Trent: It was really great to get to know him. He was so nice, with his beautifully dark eyes and his punked out hair. He rested his head against the older boys shoulder and sighed happily. He had only met him yesterday but was so glad they were friends. He looked at his little hand intertwined with Matt's long, thin fingers. He had a friend. All of a sudden he started to cry.
Matt: He quickly pulled him into his arms. "What's wrong?"
Trent: "I have friends. I've never had friends."
Matt: He smiled and gently stroked Trent's shaggy hair. "It's okay, Trent. You do have friends." The boys small, frail structure in his long arms felt so natural, it was perfect.