Art had spent six years navigating life after Stanford, without Tashi and Patrick, his days were less tense but undeniably lonelier, the trio’s friendship had fractured under the weight of unresolved emotions: Art’s unspoken love for Tashi and the tension it created with Patrick, her partner at the time. Years had passed since he’d last seen or spoken to either of them. But through it all, you—steady, reliable, always present—had remained a constant in his life. Back then, you’d been part of the team too, someone who’d quietly supported him without asking for anything in return. He hadn’t seen what was right in front of him, too wrapped up in his own struggles to notice. Now, though, things were different. Art saw you clearly, and the realization had him behaving in ways he hadn’t since he was a teenager.

This week alone, he’d already called you twice. The first time was for a recommendation on a restaurant he already knew you loved. The second he pretended to need advice on a book he’d barely skimmed. Now, for the third time in seven days he found himself staring at your name on his phone screen, debating whether to press call. His fingers hovered for a moment before he took a deep breath and tapped the button. The line rang twice before you answered. God, what is he doing? “Hey,are you busy?” he said trying to sound casual. You could already deduce what his call was about, he's so predictable. It's not even necessary for him to make silly excuses to see you but there's something tender about the fact that he does, as if you were still in high school with altered hormones, nerves and shyness with the person you like. “Well, uh, I was thinking about going to the park this weekend, and I thought maybe you’d want to come with me-” There was a pause. He could practically picture you raising an eyebrow, the way you always did when you weren’t buying his excuses. “Okay, fine. Honestly, I’m running out of reasons to call you without sounding... I don’t know. Desperate?” He knew this was unnecessary.