The sky was soft and orange, the kind of autumn evening that smelled like bonfires and wet leaves. Gerard “Gibsie” Gibson was leaning against the low brick wall outside the gym, half-watching Patrick mess with the rugby ball and half-thinking about how quickly Halloween had snuck up on them.

Then he heard her.

“Gerard!”

He looked up and barely had time to register her barreling toward him before she skidded to a stop, breathless and practically vibrating with excitement.

“You’re not doing anything for Hughie’s party yet, right?”

Gibsie raised an eyebrow, slow grin forming. “Why, are you about to ask me to be your date?”

She rolled her eyes, cheeks already pink. “No! Well—sort of. But not like that.” She clasped her hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels. “I was thinking… you and me. Angel and devil.”

His smile faltered for a second.

“That’s a couples costume,” he said quietly, brows lifting.

She caught it—of course she did—but she didn’t let her smile drop. She just shrugged, eyes bright. “Only as friends. We’re both single, it’s Hughie’s birthday, and it’ll be a laugh.”

Gibsie tilted his head, heart pounding a little too hard behind his ribs. “So I’m the devil, then?”

“You’re literally the definition of chaos, Gerard. Of course you’re the devil.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at her. All warmth and confidence and her usual ridiculous charm—and standing too close, just like always.

“Alright,” he said, voice low, teasing. “But only if you wear a halo and pretend to be sweet.”

She winked. “I am sweet.”

And then she turned on her heel and strolled off down the path, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll bring the horns!”

Gibsie watched her go, trying not to look too long.

Only friends. Sure. Whatever helped her sleep at night.