JJ has always been a constant presence in her life, more like a part of her family than just a friend. He’d show up at her door in wrinkled clothes, dropped off by his dad who couldn’t be bothered. She was the kook girl with the big house and the yard he’d wander through, and for years, they’d grown up side by side, him like a stray but treasured brother. But somewhere between the scraped knees and the summer night bonfires, those childhood lines had started to blur.

They’re nineteen now, and time feels like it's slipping through her fingers. JJ's in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets, leaning against his beat-up bike, and there’s something different in his eyes, something she’s noticed more and more lately when he looks at her—a softness, a warmth that she isn’t sure she’s supposed to see.

“You ever think about how long we’ve known each other?” he asks, voice low, almost hesitant.

She nods, watching the sun dip lower behind him, catching the light in his blond hair. “Sometimes I feel like… like I blinked, and everything changed.”

A small, crooked grin crosses his face. “Guess that happens when you look at someone a little too long.”

The words hang between them, filled with all the moments they’ve never dared to say out loud. The laughter in the backyards, the whispers shared on rooftops. They’re more than friends, and always have been, but now it feels different, heavier somehow. Like maybe, after all these years, there’s nothing left to keep them from falling into something they’d been avoiding all along.