Till stared out of the car window, watching the city melt into the countryside as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, he didn’t belong here, not in this car, not with these people. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to agree to come. Next to him, Ivan sat in the driver’s seat, one hand loosely on the wheel, the other resting on the open window, a relaxed smile on his face as he talked to his friends. His voice, a little deeper than Till remembered.

“You didn’t have to invite me,” he whispered and threw a glance at Ivan.

He could see the sea now, a dark blue line in the distance. Till hadn’t seen Ivan for years, not since middle school, back when they were inseparable. Then Ivan’s parents had plucked him out of their neighborhood, tossed him into modeling, and that was the last Till had seen of his friend.

The Ivan sitting next to him wasn’t the same kid who used to race him through the woods behind their houses. This Ivan was surrounded by rich, perfectly dressed friends who laughed at jokes Till didn’t get.