THE DISTANCE BETWEEN ANDROMEDA AND US

That summer of 2017, the cicadas were singing near the meadows, the heat made the air ripple slightly, and the sky stretched out in all its vastness. The old radio was tuned to Mateo’s favourite station.

Below the terrace, Julián was fanning himself with a makeshift fan to cool off, whilst his friend was drinking a soft drink.

Both sat in silence in rocking chairs, enjoying the rhythmic, steady motion. The background music, the sweltering heat of 3 o’clock in the afternoon and the sweat made everything worse. Nevertheless, being together meant that summer didn’t feel quite so exhausting, even though the heat was becoming increasingly gruelling. In 2017, everything seemed different: the photos had a different filter, nostalgia didn’t seem painful, the laughter sounded more genuine, the salt added more flavour, the soft drink quenched their thirst, and looking directly into each other’s eyes was a sign to let their souls be known.

—I’m roasting! And this fan’s no use at all! —the raven-haired boy complained, and began fanning himself frantically.

—I think I’ll have another can of fizzy drink —said Mateo in a weary voice after wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The sticky feeling on his skin bothered him more than the heat itself.

—Pass one my way too —he muttered irritably, still holding the fan in his hand.

—Here. So what happened to your fan? —asked Mateo, turning to look at his friend with a curious expression whilst touching his freckled cheek.

—It broke… Again —Julián emphasised, rolling his eyes, and took a sip of his drink; the coldness ran down his hot throat, making him let out a sigh of relief—.

—Why don’t you just bin it already?

—Hey! It still works! —protested Julián in an exaggerated voice, as if he’d genuinely been offended—.

—That thing breaks every week. Have some dignity and get a new one; I’m not lending you mine.

—It still works! —repeated Julián indignantly—. But I’ll throw it away if you buy me a new one. What do you say?

—Such a drama queen —Mateo pulled a face of annoyance and crumpled the empty can.

—Jerk —Julián narrowed his eyes, staring intently at Mateo, and spelled out the word—.

They remained silent for a long moment and then burst out laughing; they both realised they’d been arguing over something as ridiculous as an old fan. Mateo clutched his stomach as he laughed, and although he tried to speak, he couldn’t concentrate any more when he saw Julián with tears in his eyes from laughing.

Tears of happiness.

And as they squirmed in their rocking chairs, Mateo watched his friend’s joy for a moment; they’d been friends for ten years and that sort of squabble was normal – it never went any further.

After finishing his drink, Julián reached out at the same time as his friend to grab another soft drink from the ice bucket, and it happened.

A gentle brush that allowed Mateo to feel the other man’s body heat, which contrasted with the damp chill of the can.

For a moment, the world faded away for both of them. Mateo was the first to quickly pull his hand away; he laughed somewhat nervously and looked away, his pulse racing to his own bewilderment; that everyday contact felt like a caress to his very soul.

—Looks like we’re running out of drinks; I’m off to the shop —murmured Julián, standing up and leaving Mateo alone.

Mateo could only nod and remained silent.

—What the hell was that? My heart’s beating so fast —they both thought as they walked away—.

—Just the beginning of the end —declared a female voice watching them from the treetops, her hair silver—.