When Saturday afternoon rolled in, I rode my bicycle to Finn's house. It looked more architecturally stunning in broad daylight without a crowd of kids partying around. He met me at the gate with an unusual grim expression stamped on his face.

"Is there a problem?" I asked after I parked my bike near a plant box. I trailed him across the patio, hooking my tote bag over my shoulder.

"It's my sisters," he answered. "I didn't know they were coming home today. Just ignore them, okay?"

"I can't do that. It's rude."

"You'll get what I mean."

Valerie and Fallon turned to me as soon as I stepped into the living room. They were both more beautiful than in their family portrait. It felt like standing in front of celebrities, so my voice cracked when I greeted them. When Valerie walked closer to me, I had to crane my neck because she was so intimidatingly tall—close to six feet with the high heels she was wearing.

"Hi, come in! Make yourself at home," she said in a high-pitched voice. Her floral perfume filled my nose, and I could tell it was one of those luxury scents that lingered for days.

Finn muttered something behind me, frustrated by Valerie's behavior. I didn't understand what his deal was—she seemed friendly and welcoming—until she started chatting.

"You're Autumn, correct? Finny told us so much about you! You're way prettier than he described."

I almost snapped my neck as I looked at Finn, whose face immediately took on a deep shade of red.

"Hey, I didn't say that!" he yelled at her. "I didn't say anything to anybody. Stop lying!"

Valerie laughed. Even her laughter sounded expensive. She spun to me, shaking her head. "Forgive him. It's not every day he's got a cute girl over, so he's acting a little nervous."

I didn't know what to respond, so I only nodded, sweat forming at the back of my neck. I couldn't tell where Sunny was—I had texted her earlier about going to Finn's house, and so far, there had been no reply—but her presence could have made that situation a lot less awkward.

Thankfully, the eldest of the siblings, Fallon, waved her hand to stop the squabble. "That's enough, Val. You're making our guest uncomfortable."

"Yeah. Leave us alone, will ya?" Finn marched past Valerie, motioning his head for me to follow him. "Let's go, Autumn."

"No, hold on," Fallon called. "Valerie and I will be heading out, and Mom and Dad won't be home until evening, so you have the whole house for exactly four hours and minutes."

Finn tossed her a frown over his shoulder. "So? What are you afraid is gonna happen?"

"The place being burned down. You kids doing something inappropriate. And our dog rolling in the dirt outside and spreading it all over the house."

Valerie snorted, and Finn turned pink. Meanwhile, I only stared blankly at Fallon, confused about what she meant by "doing something inappropriate." Drugs? No, thank you.

"Okay, got it. I'm not stupid. You can trust me," answered Finn.

The two women started walking toward the door, with Valerie winking at us and chanting, "Have fun, you two," and Fallon telling her to quit it. When the clicking of their heels faded, Finn made a deep sigh.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I'm used to sibling chaos," I said. "Wait, so your nickname is Finny?"

He gave me a deadpan stare. "Please don't call me that."

I laughed. We then started making our way upstairs, our shoes squeaking against the glossy tiles.

"I like Fallon. She's like the boss," I remarked.

"Right. She wasn't like that when we were kids. Back then, she and Valerie liked to torment me. Like pranking me and calling me names." He shook his head. "Only one of them grew out of it, apparently. It's hell every time Valerie comes home."

"I think it's just her way of expressing how much she misses her little brother," I teased, and that made him roll his eyes.

As we walked down the hallway, I spotted a golden retriever resting in front of one of the doors. Upon sensing us, the dog rose and barked, and I quickly edged behind Finn for defense, clutching my shoulder bag tightly. He knelt to restrain her.

"Shhh. It's okay, Cookie. It's okay. She's a friend."

"Cookie? That's cute. I didn't know you had a pet," I said.

"Yeah. I locked her in my room during the party because she gets skittish around crowds. Plus, I was worried someone might take her. She has the survival instincts of a pancake."

I broke out in a laugh. It was a valid fear—I would be devastated myself if someone kidnapped my pet—but it was amusing to hear him admit it.

Finn invited me to pat her head. I hesitated at first, but he assured me that she wouldn't bite. Cautiously, I kneeled beside him, placed my bag on the floor, and patted Cookie's head. When she wagged her tail and seemed to smile, I rubbed her furry chin and the side of her belly. A beaming smile grew on my face. Even though I was a cat person, I would die for Cookie.

"You're so pretty," I said to her.

"You are, too."

I looked at Finn, and he nearly tripped over himself as he hurried to stand up.

"Is what she said," he stammered. "I read her mind."

I brushed it off with a laugh. "Um, thanks?"

He beckoned me to follow him. "A-anyway, there's something I want to show you."

Grabbing my bag from the floor, I pulled myself up and went after him toward the double doors at the end of the hallway. When he pushed them open, the hair on the back of my neck rose. It was a library. A massive home library.

"Oh my God, wow." I gasped, gazing at the giant bookshelves and well-polished antique furniture that decorated the room. The sunlight filtered through the thin white curtains, making the atmosphere warm and bright. I twisted to Finn, who looked amused at my open-mouthed reaction. "You have a library? At home? This is my dream! Seriously, this is where I'll be spending my money when I'm an adult."

He swung his hand around the room. "Well, take a look around as much as you like, and if you want to borrow anything, just tell me."

I could have quickly skipped around to check every single title on the bookshelves, but I restrained my excitement.

"No, I'll do it later," I said, shaking my head to sober up. "Let's do our schoolwork first, or we may end up not finishing anything."

"Okay," he replied with a laugh. "We can study here. Let me grab my laptop from my room real quick."

"Wait, Sunny! She's missing."

"Must be running late. I'll text her."

Afterward, Finn and I settled on the couches and began working. The library was quiet, with him typing his book report on his laptop across from me, and me scribbling math equations in my notebook. He eventually played soft ambient music on his device to fill the silence. Still, I felt compelled to make small talk.

"So... what do you do here when you're alone?"

He lifted his head, surprised. Then, he shrugged. "Uh, play video games. Jam out songs. Or take Cookie out for a run until both of us tire out."

Cookie's ear perked up at the word "run," but she remained resting at the foot of the couch where Finn sat.

"I'm glad you have her to keep you company," I said, sharing a smile with him before returning to my homework. At school, he was always surrounded by people and never lacked a smile. At home, I could only imagine how lonely he must have felt, walking in long empty hallways, hearing nothing but his footsteps.

The ringing of our phones on the table broke the silence. I picked up mine and saw a text from Sunny.

Sorry!!!! Can't come!!! I went down with a fever and stomachache, just woke up!!!

"Did Sunny text you, too?" Finn asked tentatively.

"Yep," I said, eyes fixed on the screen.

"So it's just the two of us, then."

"Yep..."

Something smelled fishy behind the text. Was it all a setup? It must be. Now it made sense why Sunny had been so adamant that it should be only the three of us for the group study. Getting sick was such a convenient excuse to leave me alone with Finn.

And what was she expecting to come out of this? A romantic study date between friends?

My stomach dropped at the thought.

I knew Finn liked me. I wasn't completely blind to his actions. Perhaps it began at his birthday party, when we played the piano and sang alone together. Or maybe it grew more and more each time we talked in class. Either way, there had always been signs that Finn might like me more than a friend.

I avoided dwelling on the idea because I didn't want it to be real. I didn't want my gut feeling to be right. Not because I disliked him–I valued Finn as a friend, and I cared about his feelings, but I worried about hurting him and making things awkward.

I glanced up from my phone. Finn's face was tight with unease, matching mine. Catching my gaze, he flushed and placed his phone back on the coffee table.

"Um," he mumbled, then cleared his throat. "By the way, how are you doing with your math homework?"

Setup or not, and no matter how painfully awkward it was, I still wanted to stay and help out a friend. I put my phone down and tried to push Sunny's suspicious text to the back of my mind. "Pretty good, although I'm stuck on some questions. How's your book report coming along?"

Finn eased up. "Almost done. Just writing my interpretation of it."

"And how do you interpret The Great Gatsby?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's about some dude who tried to be super rich and did these crazy parties to impress the girl, but it wasn't enough to win her."

"That's one way to put it. If I were to interpret the story, I would say it depicts the impossibility of achieving dreams and desires."

Finn quickly pulled his laptop closer to him, "Oh, that's deep! Let me add that." His fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed. "I'd better get an A for this essay," he said to himself.

I laughed. "Have you read the book?"

"Of course." He nodded at the bookshelf next to us. "We have a copy lying around, so I checked it out. And I know it's out of character for me, but I've been trying to make reading a habit these days."

I beamed at that, pride swelling in my chest. "You're really serious about that car, huh?"

"Yes, and also... I'm writing something."

"Really? You write? What is it? A story?" In class, I would sometimes see him scribble hastily at the back of his notebook, and I assumed it was for school. Maybe that, or it could also mean it was for his secret writing project.

"No. You'll find out soon," he said. "I'm doing it behind the scenes."

Finn tilted his head to the side and smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that seemed simple but meant many things.

Before I could guess what he might be cooking up, he said, "Anyway, would you like to read my report? I could use some feedback."

I nodded too enthusiastically. I couldn't say no to reading someone's writing. I needed to know how their brain worked.

He turned his laptop to me. On the screen was a Microsoft Word window, and it was riddled with red and blue underlines. I dragged the laptop closer and narrowed my eyes, reading the sentences twice to ensure I fully understood what he meant.

There was one thing I knew for certain—Finn did read the book from start to finish. And he didn't cheat by copying articles from the internet and pasting them into his report. He wrote his own words, and it was a lot. To the point where I didn't know where his thoughts began and ended because he didn't bother hitting any punctuation at all. It was a wall of incoherent text, a full-on rambling, and I did my best not to show how puzzled I was.

Unfortunately, I was not a good actor.

"Oh, no. Is it that bad?" he asked with a look of horror.

"No, no, it's fine! We can improve this!" I said, panicking. "Um, do you mind if I make some edits?"

Finn lowered his gaze, cheeks aflame. I would be embarrassed, too, if I were in his position. I felt awful, but I had to help him out if he wanted to get that perfect grade.

"Go ahead. I'm really sorry."

"No, I swear, it's fine. It just needs some polishing."

To give him credit, his thoughts about The Great Gatsby were interesting. He only had trouble putting them into words, which I could relate to. With the track changes on, I reworked his sentence structure and fixed the grammatical errors. Meanwhile, he checked out my math homework. I ignored what he was doing, as I was engrossed in the editing process. I would rather write and edit a thesis than find the x and y of a cylinder.

After a few minutes, I hit save and cracked my fingers. "All done! And don't worry—I didn't change your explanations, only the syntax."

"Okay, thank you," Finn said, then pushed my notebook to me. "I—uh—I thought I should help you with your homework, too. I don't know if the answers are correct, but I tried my best."

I flipped through the pages. He answered all the questions I struggled with and even outlined the processes. I gave him a wide-eyed look.

"Finn, how could you say you were an anomaly in your family? You're good with numbers, too!"

Relief filled his eyes, and he started messing with his hair timidly, mumbling another thank you. I gave him a sympathetic smile. His family must have had high expectations of him following in their footsteps, but Finn was the kind of guy who wanted to have a good time.

The study session was over, and, in too much excitement, I scanned the books on the shelves, running my fingers along the spines as always. Plenty of them were law, business, and science books, some were classic literature, and a few were contemporary books.

"Is your family a book collector?" I asked Finn, who was behind me. Cookie stood beside him, sticking her tongue out and anticipating her master's next move.

"Guess you can say that. It started with Granny, who spent her life collecting books, and then Valerie followed suit. She's an avid reader like you," he explained. "There used to be a lot more books here, but she donated some to the school library."

I hummed in acknowledgement. "How about those file folders at the top?"

"Those were my grandfather's sheet music collection."

A significant memory came to me, and the name escaped my mouth in a hushed tone. "Maestro Javier."

"Wait, how did you know that? Have I mentioned it before?"

I turned to Finn. "No, I... heard it from someone."

"Who?" A weighty pause rose between us as he frowned. "Was it Michael?"

My mouth went dry when he uttered the name. It was an innocent question: Was it Michael? But I felt like I had been caught doing something villainous.

"Yes, him," I managed to say, not wanting to drag the silence out.

To my relief, Finn beamed a smile. "Ah, that makes sense. He always speaks highly of my grandpa. He used to be his student, you know? He used to come here almost every day to learn the piano."

I knew that. From Michael himself. But there was no way I would tell Finn about that, or anybody at all. My conversations with Michael were a secret. Michael was my secret.

"That guy's really good, let me tell you. My grandpa even said that he might be a genius," Finn went on. "I would join their lessons sometimes, but most of my time was spent hanging out with my friends."

I sat on the ottoman beside the bookshelf. Cookie walked closer to me, her tail wagging. "So that's how you became friends with Michael?" I asked, crouching a little to scratch the dog's neck.

"Yeah, pretty much. You know Clint, right? Bleached hair. Ear piercings. Anyway, he was the one who introduced Mike to the group in middle school. And then we'd hang out on the weekends to play video games."

My head shot up, narrowing my eyes at Finn. "Wait, Clint? Middle school? I'm confused—were you all best friends or something?"

"Wait, let me find the picture. It should be here somewhere..." Finn scanned the bookshelves and picked up a framed photograph from a top shelf. He dusted it before handing it to me, saying, "Here, this is what we looked like back then."

My eyes popped out in surprise over the baby faces in the picture. "Oh my God," I said with a laugh, then pointed at a young boy with spiky brown hair. "Is this Clint with his natural hair color? This is weird to look at." I tapped my finger at the two kids posing like tough guys behind the group. "And this is Nate and your cousin Ryan."

My eyes drifted to a couple next to them. She had her arm wrapped around his while striking a peace sign. "Claire was one of the boys, I see."

"And she also loved one of them," Finn said, who was now sitting beside me on the ottoman and entertaining Cookie.

"Michael," I confirmed.

"She was head over heels. Took them a while to date, though."

In the picture, Michael's hair was much shorter, which allowed me to see his face clearly. He was cute, donning a shy smile. His eyes looked brighter, more awake, but still looked nice and pensive—the kind that would make you look twice. Seeing the contrast between his past and current self, I quietly wished I had gotten to know him much earlier.

"Then there's me! The youngest in the group." Finn's cheery voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked at his picture wearing our middle school PE shirt. He was crouching in front of the group, grinning widely at the camera and throwing a cool hand sign like Clint.

"You looked so much different," I said.

"Why, do I look hotter now?"

I pursed my lips. Oh, the ego of a teenage boy. "You should be a stand-up comedian."

"As long as you're watching," he said, blue eyes twinkling in mischief.

Snorting, I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, I'm surprised you guys go way back. I've never seen you hang out together at school."

"Well, we still talk, but not as much as before."

"What happened?"

He shrugged. "Puberty? Ego? Nate and Ryan came up with the band idea. Both wanted to lead; neither would follow. Then, the love rivalry between Michael and Ryan over Claire made things worse, and eventually... the group split up." He shook his head. "I guess some people would prefer losing their friends over losing their pride."

"I saw them at your birthday party," I said.

"Yeah. It was meant to bring them back together. I even had to beg them to come. Nate and Ryan refused to attend if the other was there."

"They're like a divorced couple."

Finn burst out laughing. "Exactly! That's what I've been saying! But the plan was a bust because people crashed—" He paused when a thought occurred to him. "Wait. Holy crap. I just realized something."

"What?"

"I think I know the reason why Ryan spread the news about the party." He turned to me, his eyes as big as a plate. "He didn't do it as a joke. He did it as a distraction."

"So he wouldn't be forced to interact with Nate's group," I supplied.

"Yes!" He clasped his jaw in disbelief. "Oh, that sneaky bastard. I'm going to kill him."

I studied the picture once more. It was full of goofy smiles, awkward poses, and youthful innocence. How disappointing it was to think about how fragile human connections can be sometimes.

"That's messed up," I said, "but I hope you guys can work it out someday."

"I hope so, too. But man, do I want to punch Ryan in the face right now. That party could've gone differently if it wasn't for him inviting the whole school."

I looked at the ceiling as I thought of the possibilities. "Yeah. There could have been more food for everyone."

Finn chuckled. "And the cleanup wouldn't have been so bad."

"Maybe I could have met Cookie and played with her." The moment I said her name, she glanced up at me from the floor and flapped her ear as if to agree.

Finn turned his head to me and held my gaze. "And maybe I could have walked you home that night."

If my life had been a movie, this would be the point where the audience would scream at me to choose Finn. He was nice. He was sweet. He was perfect. And I don't deny that. Maybe in another universe, it could have been him who walked me home. It could have been him who held my heart. But in that universe, where we were sitting next to each other in the library and he was smiling and staring at me, his eyes full of hope that I would reciprocate his feelings and kiss him... there was someone else.

And I wasn't the type that could change her heart so easily.

I rose from the seat and then placed the picture frame back on the bookshelf. "Speaking of home... I probably should get ready for that," I said, acting as calmly as I could. "Um, you don't have any other schoolwork you need help with, right?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm all good," Finn answered. A cloud of disappointment passed over his face before a sunny smile quickly replaced it. "Thanks for checking my book report, by the way. It must have been awful, huh?"

"No, the sentence structure was just—"

"It's okay, Autumn. I can take criticism."

After getting my belongings, I followed him downstairs with Cookie bouncing ahead of us. When we reached the living room, she started whining and lolling her tongue out at Finn.

"What is it? You need a snack?" he asked, to which the dog responded with a yowl. He turned to me. "I have to feed her. Would you like to get something for yourself? Not dog food, of course. But ice cream? You might be hungry from all that studying."

I laughed and was about to turn down the offer when my stomach betrayed me, making a gurgling sound. Finn's eyebrow shot up, and I had never wanted to throw myself against the wall until that point.

"I can't let a guest go hungry. Come on. Help yourself to the fridge." He nodded toward the kitchen.

As he opened the cupboards to prepare Cookie's meal, I placed my bag on the counter and went to the fridge. On the door was a yellow sticky note showcasing familiar handwriting, which sent chills down my spine.

"Uh, Finn? Did you write this Wi-Fi password?"

"Yeah. Do you want to use it?"

"No..." I trailed off. Finn had been the one who wrote the Sweet morning to you, Autumn note and plastered it on my locker. Finn had been my secret admirer. It shouldn't be a surprise anymore, but it still had me flushing and frozen to the spot.

The back door creaking broke me out of my thoughts. He and I swiveled our heads just in time to see Cookie bolting outside. Yelling her name in unison, we ran after her. She was quick. Finn pleaded for her not to roll in the dirt because she had recently been bathed, but much to his dread, the golden retriever dove under the bushes.

Without a choice, Finn got on all fours and crawled underneath to grab her. I went to the opposite side so I could help him trap her. I was close to reaching her paws, but unfortunately, a twig caught my hair. He managed to get hold of her, but Cookie scrambled away from him, kicking dirt in his face.

Sputtering and wiping his mouth, Finn stood up and watched the slippery creature dart to the other side of the house. He threw his hands up in surrender.

"Great. I'm toast. When did she even learn how to open doors?" He spun around to see me still on the ground and rushed to my side. "Shoot, are you okay?"

"My hair got stuck," I muttered, trying to untangle the strand from the twig. He crouched down to help me with it, mumbling apologies.

Just then, the gate screeched open, and Cookie yelped as if she was being petted by whoever came in. Finn stood up swiftly to see who it was.

"Man, I thought you were dead! Didn't you see my text?" someone said.

"No, I was busy," Finn replied.

Dusting myself off, I got on my feet to see what was happening, and I was shocked to see Ryan and Claire. Upon seeing me and my disheveled appearance, Ryan's eyes grew wide open, and he guffawed.

"Yeah, no kidding. Doing it in the bushes? That's crazy."

Finn's mouth went slack, and I had never heard him scream as loud as he did.

"No, you idiot! It's not like that!"

That was when it hit me. I finally realized what Fallon had meant by "something inappropriate." Needless to say, I wanted to crawl under the bushes again and bury myself alive.

──────

Ryan and Finn didn't stop squabbling over what had happened in the bushes, but it wasn't until they got a good scolding from Claire that they finally shut up. While Finn pulled his cousin aside to confront him about the party, Claire helped me clean the dirt on my clothes and fix my messy hair in the kitchen.

"There," she said, giving the tip of my hair a final tug.

I pulled out the pocket mirror from my bag to check myself. She had braided my hair in a loose fishtail.

"Wow, thanks! It looks pretty," I said, turning back to Claire. "You didn't have to do this."

"Couldn't help it. I do my little sister's hair every morning for school, and both of you have the same type of hair."

I took another glance in the mirror, feeling good about my looks for once. "She must be getting tons of compliments from her classmates and friends."

A proud smile bloomed on her face. "That's what she told me."

Claire stood up and walked around the counter toward the refrigerator. The light came on as she pulled the door open and scanned what was inside. "Hey, they've got ice cream. Want some?"

"Of course," I said without second-guessing, as I had gotten even hungrier after that incident with Cookie. Speaking of the dog, she was now happily munching on the biscuits Finn had given her, without a care in the world.

The boys were still yelling at each other in the basement when Claire and I settled on the porch chairs with our bowls of raspberry ice cream.

"Did you and Ryan come here to practice?" I asked after eating a spoonful.

"Yeah."

"Shouldn't you be joining them inside?"

"Don't worry about it. The others are running late, anyway, and we can't start without them," she said, scooping a generous amount of ice cream from her bowl. "Besides, I want to hang out with you. It's been a while."

I smiled at that and continued eating my dessert. "So, how are you getting along with your new band?"

"It's... okay. It's like babysitting a bunch of six-year-old boys." Claire chuckled. "Right now, we're working on this song Finn wrote for the Battle of the Bands. The lyrics are sweet." She glanced at me. "I wondered who inspired him. He's too shy to tell us anything."

It was a song. Finn had been reading books because he was writing a song, and he wanted to be good at it. I admired him for it, truly, but I felt apprehension about what it could be. I remembered the way he had looked at me when he hinted that he was writing something.

"By the way, how did Nate and the others take the news about the audition?" asked Claire.

"They were upset at first but then got over it. They even joked about it," I answered.

"Really?" She let out a short, relieved laugh. "I... I didn't expect them to be grown-up about it. And Michael? What was his reaction?"

"If you're talking about his facial reaction, it's hard to tell," I joked.

"Oh, obviously."

"I'm sure he was fine. He said that as long as everyone was happy playing music together, it didn't matter if they won or not."

As she looked at the afternoon sky, she released a sigh as if a load had been lifted off her shoulders. "I'm glad he's okay," she murmured to herself before sliding her gaze to me. "Since we're talking about Michael, I need to ask you something."

I put my empty bowl down on the small table between us. "What is it?"

"How long have you been close to him?"

I froze. "What?"

"One of my friends saw him walking with a girl with long red hair at the park, and I immediately knew it was you. What was that about?"

Her stare was unyielding and intense, pressuring me to answer her directly. It wasn't like Michael and I were dating, but her question made me conscious of how we looked together in public. I felt like I was caught doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing.

"It's nothing." The words tumbled out of my mouth. "We were just hanging out. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Is it... is it okay?"

Claire frowned as if she had misheard me. "Why are you apologizing?"

"B-because... you were with him?"

She threw her head back as a roaring laugh escaped her throat. "Oh my God, girl. What do you take me for? The obsessive ex-girlfriend who controls who he hangs out with? He's not my property."

"No, no! I don't think of you that way," I said, face going hot. "I... I guess I'm just being insecure. I'm sorry."

Her expression shifted to one of sympathy. "Autumn, it's okay to hang out with him. It would be selfish to deny him one more friend who cares about him, don't you think?"

Claire still loved Michael. Just differently this time—in a way that she still wished him the very best but from afar.

"Promise me one thing," she said after a moment of quiet.

"What?"

"Keep your heart to yourself."

It was too late for that.

──────

The sun was casting long shadows on the ground by the time Finn and I stood outside the gate of his house.

"Do you mind if I walk you home?" he asked, hope filling his eyes. "My friends can wait."

"No, it's all right. It's not too dark out yet, so you don't need to worry," I said, gripping the handles of my bike and knowing fully well where this conversation was going.

"It's not that..." He trailed off, voice dipping into uncertainty. Then, he tried to regain his confidence as he looked straight at my face and said, "I was hoping we could spend—"

"It would be a long way back for you, Finn." I cut him off with a smile. "Just stay here, I'll see you at school."

Blinking, he reeled back as if I slapped him in the face. Regrettably, that might exactly what my words felt like to him. An indirect rejection, but still a rejection. My palms sweated as I tightened my hold on my bike, bracing for his reaction.

In his usual fashion, Finn responded with a smile, but this one was a weak, wavering twitch of his lips that sliced through my chest.

"Right, I'll stay here," he said quietly. "Take care, Autumn."

With a heavy heart and the cold wind of dusk wrapping around me, I got on my bike and began to pedal home.

***

chapter edited as of 12/2025