The two of you sat side by side at the kitchen table, a stack of textbooks and papers spread out between you. Finney tapped his pencil against the edge of his notebook, his usual quiet confidence shining through as he explained the phases of the moon.

"It's really simple once you think of it like this," he said, sketching out a quick diagram. "The sun shines on the moon, and depending on where it is, we see different parts lit up. See?"

You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing his, and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I get it now. So, the waxing crescent is when it's growing, right?"

"Exactly," he said, grinning at you. "You're getting it."

You smiled back, teeling a flutter in your chest. Finney always made things seem less overwhelming. There was something about the way he explained things-so patient, so encouraging-that made you want to keep trying, even when you struggled.

"What about stars?" you asked, glancing at him. "You know about those too, right?"

"Of course," he replied, his eyes lighting up. "They're basically giant balls of gas, mostly hydrogen and helium. Some are way bigger than the sun, but they're so far away they just look like tiny dots to us."

You nodded, impressed. "How do you know all this stuff?"

He snugged, a taint blusn creeping into his cheeks. "I just think space is cool. It's, uh... peaceful. Like there's so much out there we'll never know, but it's kind of comforting, you know?"

You tilted your head, watching him closely. "Yeah, I think I get that." For a moment, neither of you said anything. The soft scratch of the pencil against paper and the distant hum of the refrigerator filled the silence. "You're pretty good at this, Finney," you said, breaking the quiet.

He looked up, his cheeks reddening even more. "At what?"

"Teaching," you said with a small smile. "Maybe you should be a science teacher someday."