Matt and Ellie had been enemies for as long as either of them could remember.

Not the dramatic, screaming-in-the-hallways kind. No. The quiet kind. The constant kind. The kind built from years of eye rolls over fences, sarcastic comments tossed across driveways, and arguments that started over nothing and somehow meant everything.

Their moms were best friends, the kind that shared coffee in the mornings and secrets on the porch at night. So Matt and Ellie were unavoidable. Forced into the same spaces, the same dinners, the same long summers that stretched too hot and too tense.

They knew everything about each other. And none of it was soft.

At least, it wasn’t before. Before her mom’s new boyfriend. At first, it didn’t seem like anything.

Just another man in the kitchen. Another voice in the house. Another presence that wasn’t supposed to matter.

But it did.

Ellie noticed it in the way her mom stopped laughing as much. In the way the house felt tighter, like the walls had shifted inward just a little too far. In the way she started texting Matt more without realizing it.

And Matt noticed it too.

In the way Ellie stopped arguing as much. In the way her comebacks got quieter.

It didn’t happen all at once. It happened slowly.

Until one night— Tap. Tap. Tap.

Matt stirred, blinking awake in the dark. His room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of streetlights slipping through the blinds.

He frowned, pushing himself up slightly.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Matt exhaled sharply, already knowing.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and crossed the room, pushing the window open without a word.

Ellie climbed in like she had done it a hundred times. Because she had.

“Your tree is going to break one day,” he muttered, stepping back to let her in.

“It hasn’t yet,” she whispered.

Her voice was small. That was new.

Matt shut the window quietly, locking it before turning back to her. “You’re going to fall.”

“I won’t.”

“You say that every time.”

“And I’m still alive.”

He glanced at her properly then. And his chest tightened.

Her hoodie sleeves were pulled over her hands, hair slightly messy like she hadn’t cared enough to fix it, eyes shadowed in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

Matt leaned against his desk, arms crossing. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Ellie.”

She looked away.

“I just… didn’t want to be there tonight.”

Silence settled between them, thick and familiar but not sharp like it used to be.

Different.

Matt sighed, softer this time. “He there?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause. Then, quieter—

“They were arguing.”

“About?” he asked.

Ellie shrugged, but it wasn’t careless. It was the kind of shrug that tried to pretend it didn’t matter.

“Everything.”

Matt didn’t do any of the things he used to do when they were younger and everything between them was easier to turn into a fight.

Instead, he walked past her, grabbing a blanket off his bed and tossing it in her direction.

“Sit,” he said.

Ellie huffed lightly. “You’re so bossy.”

“You climbed into my room at,” he checked his phone, squinting, “2:13 in the morning. I think I get to be bossy.”

She rolled her eyes. Matt dropped down beside her on the bed, leaving just enough space to not make it weird.

For a second, neither of them spoke. Then—

“You snore,” Ellie muttered.

Matt blinked. “I do not.”

“You do. It’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying.”

She nudged his shoulder.

And somehow, that small, stupid exchange felt like oxygen.

Minutes passed. Or maybe longer. Matt didn’t keep track.

He just noticed when Ellie’s head slowly tipped sideways—

And landed against his shoulder.

She didn’t move away. Didn’t apologize. She just stayed there. Like she trusted it.

Matt went still for a second.

Then carefully, like the moment might shatter if he did it wrong, he adjusted the blanket over her shoulders.

“Stay,” he said quietly.

Ellie didn’t answer. But she didn’t leave either.

And outside, the tree branch tapped softly against the window.