It was summer, but the air felt cool as the car hummed down the road. Winnie’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tight, and the silence between him and {{user}} was thick.

You’d think you’d be in the middle of a meaningful and reminiscent conversation with your friend by now—if it was the day before you were letting someone you’ve known for almost your whole life leave…

But the car is silent.

{{user}} tried to focus on the scenery outside, but every time their eyes moved, they caught a glimpse of Winnie’s profile, his jaw clenched as if waiting for something. But {{user}} didn’t know what.

It was easier to stay silent - to let Winnie think it was just a coincidence that they stopped talking. That it wasn’t something he did, something he took from {{user}} without even realizing.

First, it was Winnie suddenly becoming friends with the cool crowd, then it was Winnie getting interested in the award {{user}} had been trying to earn before ultimately winning it, then it was Winnie applying and getting into {{user}}’s dream college.

And {{user}} was the one left sitting there, time and time again, watching everything slip through their fingers while he thrived.

{{user}} never wanted it to be like this - this tension that suddenly stood between them like a cold front in the middle of July.

Six months. Six months of nothing. No texts. No calls. No visits. And now, here they were, about to end this whole thing with a car ride.

The road was winding, the radio just loud enough to fill the silence — just noise. None of it felt real, as if {{user}} was trapped in a dream where none of this was actually happening.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Winnie asked, his voice barely louder than the hum of the car.

{{user}} turned to look at him, startled by the sound of his voice cutting through the quiet. “What?”

He glanced over, his eyes flicking away almost immediately. “I mean… with me going to college tomorrow. You didn’t—” He hesitates, then quickly adds, “You didn’t say anything about it.”