I paused, chewing on the inside of my cheek as Austin pulled me closer. He was warm. Not that his warmth was necessary in the thick summer air, but I welcomed it anyway.
“Well… no,” I said slowly. “Henry and I were friends for one summer. Just one. Between fifth and sixth grade. It wasthe summer before middle school, and I think we both knew everything was about to change. Holden was always the popular one between us. I was more of a loner until I met Cherry in middle school.”
“It’s hard to picture you as a loner,” Austin said. “You’re incredible. I can only imagine people are drawn to you as much as I am.” His chin rested gently on the top of my head.
“Not really,” I laughed softly. “Preteen girls are brutal. You’re either in, or you’re out. Or you’re just… there. That was me. And without school every day, it was just me.”
“And Henry?” Austin asked.
I nodded, careful not to move too much. “Yeah. He was kind of a loner too. He lived on my street. One day he rode his bike past while I was sitting in my front yard. He felt like an adventure. Like he was always searching for something.”
“Sounds like a good guy,” Austin said.
“He was,” I agreed. “It was a good summer. We’d leave our houses in the morning and just walk. I never really knew what we were looking for, but it always felt like he did.” The memories flickered through my mind like something half-forgotten but warm.
“So what happened?” Austin asked gently.
“When middle school started, everything changed. He found his people. And I think we both knew our friendship was only meant to last those eight weeks. Actually…” I trailed off, remembering exactly who those people were.
“That’s a pretty weak excuse,” Austin said, a note of irritation slipping in. “He just left you behind? Where is this guy now?”
“He died,” I said the words both bluntly and softly at the same time.
“Oh,” Austin muttered. “Shit. I’m sorry, Yellow. That must have been hard.”
“Well,” I exhaled. “By the time it happened, we were basically strangers. We hadn’t talked in years. It was like that summer never even happened. So yes, it was sad. But it was more tragic for the people who really knew him when he left.”
“That makes sense,” Austin said. “What happened?”
“Well,” I breathed, my chest tightening as the memory surfaced. “He took his life.”
I felt Austin freeze behind me. His breath caught sharply. “Wait,” he said. “What did you say his name was?”
“Henry.”
“As in Zane’s best friend,” Austin said, more to himself than to me. “Damn.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “They were inseparable once they got to high school.” I could still picture their group in the halls of Hawking, moving like a unit.
“Seren told me about him,” Austin continued. “She said Zane was a mess after Henry died. That 's why he transferred to West Bridge.”
“It was bad,” I agreed quietly. “But… he seems okay now.”
“It’s weird,” Austin said after a moment. His voice slowed, thoughtful. “How connected we are. Not directly, but—through other people. Like our lives have been brushing past each other without us knowing.”
“Yeah,” I said, considering it. “Or maybe not. This city isn’t that big. Our schools felt like different worlds, but for years you and I were only fifteen minutes apart.”
“I wish I’d known,” Austin said casually. Too casually. “The last four years would’ve been better if I had.” The words settled deep inside me, striking somewhere soft and exposed.
“That’s the thing about fate,” I said. “Fate knows better than we do. It knew we weren’t meant to meet until we did.”
“I guess,” he said. “It just makes me realize how little we actually know about each other.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” I laughed. “We’re basically strangers.”
“Oh no, Yellow,” he chuckled. “We crossed that line already. That kiss moved us from strangers to something else.” My stomach fluttered at the memory. It had been perfect—not because it was planned, but because it wasn’t. Our lips colliding without warning, without preparation. Just like us. Spontaneous. Inevitable. A metaphor wrapped up in a moment. “You know,” Austin said, and his voice shifted. The confidence drained from it, replaced by something uncertain. Careful. “There are things you don’t know about me. Things that happened during those years we didn’t know each other.”
“Well, that’s to be expected,” I said, knowing I had secrets of my own. Secrets I wasn’t eager to share. Secrets that changed the way people looked at you once they knew them.
