Aurora slipped out her window, landing softly on the grass. The sky was cloudy, the kind of night where every sound felt louder. She jogged across the yard and squeezed through the gap in the fence. He was already there, hood up, sitting on the curb with his knees drawn up like he always did when he waited for her. “You took forever,” he murmured, not looking up. “You say that every time,” Aurora said, dropping beside him. “Maybe you’re just impatient.” He huffed a small laugh. “Maybe.” She took out the cigarette, and without her asking, he passed her the lighter. His fingers brushed hers, barely, but he pulled back quickly — like he wasn’t sure if touching her was still okay. She lit up, leaned back on her hands, and let the smoke drift upward. They sat in silence for a bit. Comfortable, but different from how it used to be. Everything lately felt like that — same, but not. “So…” she said, breaking the quiet. “You know everyone thinks you’re… like… hot now or whatever.” He almost choked. “What?” Aurora bit back a smirk. “Don’t act shocked. I hear people talk. You’ve got girls staring at you in the hallway like you’re some rare animal.” He groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Please stop.” “I’m just saying,” she went on, nudging his shoe with hers, “you practically had zero game last year, and now suddenly you’re the guy people whisper about.” He didn’t say anything at first. Just picked at the edge of his sleeve, focused on the pavement. “It’s weird,” he finally muttered. “It doesn’t… mean anything.” Aurora raised an eyebrow. “Because you don’t like any of them?” He shrugged, eyes on the ground. “I don’t want things to get complicated,” he said quietly. “People change when they get attention. And I don’t… want to mess anything up.” His voice dipped a little on that last part. Aurora tilted her head. “Mess what up?” He hesitated. Then, instead of answering, he nudged her knee with his own — barely a touch — like he was steering the conversation away without actually saying anything. “You shouldn’t smoke so fast,” he mumbled. “You always get lightheaded.” Aurora rolled her eyes, but a small, warm feeling crept into her chest anyway. “Bossy,” she said. He shrugged again, but this time there was a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “Someone’s gotta keep you alive.”