The cafeteria was its usual chaotic form—echoing conversations,the clattering of trays, someone at the other end shouting way too loud about the spring dance like it mattered that much.The smell of greasy pizza and 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘭𝘪 stung the air, but at the table— our table, things were different. 

We’d all been friends since kindergarten. We met in Mrs. Tilling’s class, back when nap time still existed. Years passed and we'd changed schools, swapped crushes, had losses, breakups, secrets that were never really secrets,but we always found our way back to each other. Especially here.

Maya and Leo stood nearby. Leo was showing her memes on his phone—stoopid, ones that only the two of them understood. She chuckled several times.

{{user}} sat on a low, scuffed brown pouf, legs casually draped over to Xavier’s. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn't be the last. 

At first, Xavier didn’t say a word. He didn’t shift or ask her to take her feet down. He just watched.  But under the table, where no one could see, his fingers moved slightly on her ankle.Slow. Hesitant. Not quite innocent, not reckless either. 

Almost sensual.

Almost.

She didn’t look up. Didn’t even pause. Just smirked slightly at her screen, thumb scrolling with practiced ease.

“Someone’s comfortable today,” Xavier whispered, voice low, and challenging.

“It’s my seat now, Xavi,” she said, still not looking at him. “If you’ve got a problem with that, move.”

He didn’t move.

Instead, he let his hand rest on her ankle,steady and warm. Not-possessive. Not accidental. Just…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

There was a time, back in eighth grade, when they almost kissed after a late-night movie at Leo’s. But Maya had laughed too hard at something stupid he said, and the moment passed. Another time, sophomore year, he walked her home after her dad forgot to pick her up again. She touched his hand at the crosswalk, and neither of them mentioned it.

Now, his voice dropped, almost unreadable.

“Why do you always start things you can’t finish?”