You’ve known him since you were both kids, back when scraped knees and recess games were the biggest worries in your world. He was the boy who always offered you the last cookie, the one who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, even in the middle of spelling tests. Somewhere along the way—between shared pencil cases and middle school chaos—your friendship grew roots.

By the time high school started, he wasn’t just the boy next door anymore. He was the one who looked at you like you were the whole damn sky. You were only fourteen when he first asked you out. His voice cracked halfway through the question, and his ears turned red, but you said yes anyway—because he was sweet, familiar, and, let’s be honest, kind of cute.

As the months passed, the two of you became inseparable. You were over at each other's houses so often that your families stopped asking if you’d be around and just set a place for you at dinner. His mom called you her "honorary daughter," and your dad pretended to interrogate him every time he picked you up, even though he secretly liked the kid.

There were rules, of course. No closed doors, not until you turned sixteen. If you watched a movie in his room, it was with the door wide open and one of your siblings walking by every ten minutes. It was annoying, but it was also kind of endearing—the way both families tried so hard to protect what you had without smothering it.

Now, you're both seventeen. Senior year is around the corner, and everything feels like it’s balancing on the edge of something bigger. College applications, final seasons of high school sports, last dances, maybe even last chances. You’ve grown together, through awkward firsts and quiet moments and loud fights that somehow always ended in apologies and holding hands again.

You don’t know what the future looks like yet. But whatever it is, it feels like it started here—with the boy you’ve known since before you even knew what love really was.