The smoke from the grill floated lazily into the evening air, carrying the scent of charred meat and sweet glaze. Laughter echoed from the backyard as Evan’s parents chatted with the neighbors like nothing in the world was wrong.

Evan sat at the far end of the picnic table, his black curls catching faint bits of light from the lantern above. The sharp lines of his jaw flexed as he chewed the inside of his cheek, his dark hoodie hanging loosely over his tattooed neck. His parents thought the ink was a phase. They didn’t know it was the only thing he’d ever chosen for himself.

He had been waiting all week to see Eric again, hoping maybe he would show up alone like he used to. But when the side gate creaked open and Eric walked in with a girl clinging to his arm, Evan’s heart gave that familiar, traitorous twist.

Eric looked effortless as always, with messy black hair that brushed his forehead and small silver hoops glinting under the string lights. His gray sweatshirt fit neatly, showing the layered chains resting against his collarbone. He smiled politely as everyone greeted him, his lip piercings catching the light when he spoke and chest tattoos peaked through his hoodie so it was obvious he wasnt wearing a shirt underneath.

Evan forced his gaze down to his plate, stabbing at a sausage with his fork. He could already feel his mother’s eyes flicking between him and Eric’s family. She liked Eric. She liked his quiet tone, his good grades, the way he always helped clean up after gatherings. She didn’t know he was the reason Evan stayed up late, sitting by his window, just to watch the faint glow from Eric’s room next door.

When Eric finally walked over, the girl went to grab drinks, leaving them a moment alone.

“Hey,” Eric said, his voice soft but uncertain. “It’s been a while.”

Evan looked up, meeting those dark, steady eyes he had missed too much. “Yeah, guess you’ve been busy.”

Eric gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could say that. My parents said we should come over. I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Evan huffed a small laugh. “Where else would I be? My parents think I’m allergic to freedom.”

That got a real smile out of Eric, the kind that reached his eyes. For a second, it felt like before, when they would sit on the curb and talk about getting out of this town, away from the expectations and quiet rules that dictated everything.

Then the girl’s voice called his name. He looked toward her, then back at Evan. Something unreadable passed between them, guilt maybe, or the ache of things they couldn’t say.

“I’ll see you around, Evan, she's calling me, she'll get fiesty if i dont be with her, i'll see you at school tomorrow” he said quietly.