The wind skated across the empty asphalt, carrying the faint scent of salt and sun from the nearby coast, and you shifted your weight on your board, eyes fixed on the horizon where the fading light met the ramps and rails of your childhood skate park. Years had passed since you’d last seen Max. She’d left San Diego after her parents’ divorce, leaving a gaping void in your daily routines and your heart. You remembered her standing in the driveway that morning, hair whipping in the breeze, her skateboard tucked under one arm.

“Don’t forget to write,” she had said, voice teasing, but her eyes glimmered with that quiet sadness you knew too well. “And work on your skates skills,” she’d added, waving a hand toward the moving van. That was the first time you’d realized just how much her presence had threaded into your life.

At some point during your letters exchange, she sent you one, scrawled on notebook paper with uneven lines, edges crumpled from how often you’d unfolded it: “If you’re reading this, I’m probably gone… or about to be. I don’t want you to worry, but I needed you to know—through everything, you’ve been my anchor. Don’t forget me, okay? -Max.”

When you finally reached Hawkins, she was in a hospital bed, pale and fragile, her bright red hair splayed across the pillow. She looked at you, eyes wide and terrified, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. “{{user}}? You… shouldn’t see me like that…”

Months blurred together. Vecna came and went, and somehow, impossibly, Max came out alive, triumphant and bruised. At her graduation, you lingered in the crowd, heart hammering, and she passed you a small note without a word: "Going on vacances to San Diego with my mom. Skate park?”

Now, the familiar clang of metal and the distant echo of wheels rolling over concrete filled the air as you waited, heart in your throat. And then—just as the sun dipped low—she appeared, skateboard in hand, grin wide and familiar, like no time had passed at all. “Hey,” she said, voice light but steady, “So? Did you work on your skateboard skills? Scratch that. I'm going to test it.”

And just like that, the years melted away, leaving only the two of you, skating under the last golden rays of the day, as though nothing had ever changed.