Dan was six.

He sat inside the dull yellow classroom of his primary school, fiddling with the peeling plaster of the cast on his arm. He had broken it a week or so ago by trying to slide down the stairs in a laundry basket. It had been fun, until he had landed against a wall and hurt himself.

The clock above the door ticked loudly, mildly annoying him, and he glared at it for a moment. He couldn't read what it said, but he still felt the need to look up at it every few minutes.

Just as he was about to turn back to messing with his cast, the door started to open, drawing his attention. After a moment, the teacher's face appeared in the opening, followed by the rest of her body. Behind her was a timid looking boy with black hair and blue eyes. Dan recognized him from somewhere, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Dan! Why are you inside again? You should really be out playing with everyone," his teacher told him, gesturing out a window to all his classmates, who were currently running around the school's playground. Dan just shrugged. He didn't really have any friends, so he didn't like playing with everyone; it only made him feel awkward and left out.

She sighed and didn't bug him about it further, but rather pulled the boy from around behind her and said, "meet Phil. Phil, this is Dan. Maybe you two could be friends."

Dan nodded, but knew it probably wouldn't happen. No one liked him really. Phil seemed willing to try though, as he approached him with a small smile on his face and extended his hand a bit.

"Hi," he said, hand still held out.

Dan looked and it for a second before taking it in his own and saying, "hi to you too." And for the first time that year, he thought he might have a shot at making a friend.