Joey Lynch was the oldest friend you remembered having, since the day you spilled orange juice on him at age four. Fourteen years later, he was still there. Still showing up. Still finding his way back to you.

Through all the fights, the chaos, the days when he was high just to escape his own head, Joey still found his way back to you. Always you.

Because in those rare quiet moments when his thoughts weren’t eating him alive, when everything stilled for just a second, he’d realize how much you meant to him. How much he… liked you. Maybe even loved you. But that word? That word scared him more than anything. So he swallowed it down, again and again.

Now, on a warm August night, you both lay side by side in the park on a worn blanket, like you did every year. It started when you were 14. Your idea, stargazing and chasing wishes. He always complained about it, but secretly? He waited for this night all year.

The grass was cool beneath him, your arms just barely brushing, and the sky above was wide and full of light. He should’ve looked at the stars. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You smiled up at the sky, and it nearly undid him.

He turned his head, heart pounding. “Hey,” he whispered.

You turned to meet his eyes. “Yeah?”

Joey swallowed, voice barely a breath.

“I… I like you.” he confessed, taking the stars as witness