The last time you saw him, both were twelve and sweaty from a game of tag in the cul-de-sac, his laughter echoing through the summer dusk. Then, almost overnight, he was gone—backseat of a moving van, head turned out the window, waving too hard like that would make leaving easier. It didn’t. Not for you.

Four years later, on the first day of junior year, his family’s SUV was parked in the same cracked driveway.

You froze halfway up the sidewalk to school, phone buzzing uselessly in your hand, because there he was. Bryson Rivera. Taller, broader, and with that careless slouch boys seemed to learn once they discovered girls noticed them. His hair was darker now, almost too long, his jaw sharper than she remembered. And when he looked up—like he felt you staring—the same eyes caught hers. Only this time, instead of grinning like he used to, he just nodded once, unreadable. Your stomach twisted.

You hadn’t planned on ever forgiving him. Not for vanishing without a word. Not for leaving you to middle school hell with no one to eat lunch with. Not for the hollow summer nights that followed. And now? He waltzed back into town like nothing happened, like you was supposed to just… what? Pick up where they left off?

“Sweetie". Your mom’s voice broke through the spiral. She was leaning out the car window, smiling like this was the best surprise of the year. “Did you hear? The Riveras moved back! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Wonderful. Right.

You forced a smile, but your chest felt heavy. As you turned away, you could still feel bryson watching you.

The hallways at school buzzed with whispers before first period even began. Did you see him? He’s hot now. That’s the kid who moved back, right? Bet he’ll end up on varsity.

Then, as your sitting in your desk, mindlessly staring at the stupid question that you keep rereading for the 1000th time. You couldnt stop thinking about bryson.. why?

then, like you teleported him. Bryson walked into class, most heads slightly tilting up to see who it is. Yours didnt. But then, went up when the teacher muttered, " Be Welcome to bryson."
and when he walked towards his seat, your eyes caught.