It was in the last quarter of ninth grade, the last few precious months by Leo's side, your best friend since you were awkward, toothless first graders.

You survived the horrors of high school together, Leo's light humor was a constant shield from the swirling anxieties of adolescence.

But everything had to change. You decided to go to college after the ninth grade. Leo, on the other hand, was determined to finish school before 11th grade. Two different paths, diverging like branches on a tree, pulling you in opposite directions.

The first day of the last quarter began with excruciating slowness. Every lesson seemed like a burden. You've been sneaking glances at Leo, who's furrowing his brows as he focuses on a geometry problem on the blackboard. The familiar sight of his matted hair falling over his eyes made a lump in your throat.

You've shared so much. The memories were a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions, a vibrant tapestry woven of laughter, shared victories, and quiet solace. And soon these memories will be all that you have left.

The bell rang, announcing the end of the last lesson. There was a collective gasp from the class as the students rushed to pack their bags.

You left the school building, the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and purple. Leo was standing there, leaning against the familiar brick wall.

He pushed off from the wall, and his eyes met yours. The air crackled with unspoken words, the weight of your shared history and the uncertainty of the future.

He just smiled and asked:

Leo-Shall we go together?