The last year of high school felt heavier, not because of the books or the exams, but because every day seemed like it was ticking down to something bigger.

“College application forms again,” Isla muttered, dropping her bag onto the desk beside Elara. She fanned herself with the stack of papers their teacher had handed out. “Feels like they’re testing how much paper I can carry, not my brain.”

Elara gave a small smile without looking up, pencil moving across her notebook. She was sketching the outlines of the window frame, her focus as steady as ever. “It’s important,” she said softly. “Where we go… it matters.”

Callie slid into the seat across from them, late as usual, strands of her hair slipping from the bun she had tied in a rush. “What matters is that we all end up together. I don’t care if I fail every application, I’m just following you two.”

“You can’t just follow us,” Isla teased, tossing an eraser at her. “What if we all end up in different schools?”

Callie caught the eraser and pressed it to her chest like it was a tragic prop. “Then I’ll die of heartbreak.”

Elara finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Of course,” Callie said with a grin, leaning forward. “Who else will add spice to your boring lives?”

Isla rolled her eyes but laughed anyway. And just like that, the heaviness in the air felt lighter.

One afternoon, the three of them lingered at the bookstore after class. Elara’s parents had set up tea and biscuits in the corner as usual, the shop smelling of paper and lemon cleaner.

Callie sprawled across the couch with a stack of art magazines. Isla sat cross-legged on the rug, tapping her pen against her notebook. Elara shelved a new batch of books, listening to their chatter without saying much.

“Okay, listen,” Isla said suddenly. “If we all end up in the city, who’s doing the cooking? Because I’m not living on instant noodles forever.”

“Not me,” Callie said immediately, flipping a page. “Last time I boiled water I almost set the stove on fire.”

“That was once!” Isla laughed. “And how do you even set water on fire?”

Callie gave a helpless shrug. “Talent?”

Elara spoke quietly from behind the shelves. “I can cook a little.”

Both of them turned toward her.

“Of course you can,” Isla said, smiling. “You’re the responsible one.”

Elara’s ears turned red as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Callie offered quickly. “But only if I get the window seat in our imaginary apartment.”

“Imaginary for now,” Isla corrected, stretching out on the rug. “But not forever.”

The room fell into a small silence. None of them wanted to say it, but they all knew: soon, nothing would be the same.

The town fiesta came again that summer, brighter than ever. Strings of lights lined the plaza, stalls bursting with food, games echoing with laughter. The girls volunteered as usual, though this year it felt different, like a tradition they were holding onto before it slipped away.

At the halo-halo stall, Callie tied her apron too loose and ended up spilling ice on her shirt. Isla doubled over laughing.

“You’re hopeless,” Isla said, grabbing a napkin to dab at Callie’s shoulder.

Callie swatted her hand away, cheeks pink. “I can do it myself!”

Elara, standing behind the counter, watched quietly, lips pressed together.

Later that night, fireworks lit the sky again. The three of them sat on the curb outside the church, eating skewered barbecue.

“Remember last year?” Isla said, licking sauce from her thumb. “When Callie cried because her marshmallow fell into the fire?”

“I did not cry!” Callie protested, mouth full. “It was grief. Very different.”

Elara chuckled softly. “You looked like you were about to.”

“Traitor,” Callie said, nudging her with her elbow. But she smiled, and Elara’s heart twisted in a way she didn’t know how to name.

The closer graduation came, the more the girls found themselves talking about the future.

One late night, at Isla’s house, they lay tangled in blankets again, like they had when they were children. The TV played faintly in the background, but no one was watching.

“Do you think we’ll really stay together?” Isla whispered, staring at the ceiling.

“Yes,” Callie said immediately. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because… people change,” Isla murmured. “Cities change people. Distance changes people.”

Elara rolled onto her side to face her. “But we promised.”

Isla turned to look at her. The softness in her eyes made Elara’s breath catch. “Yeah. We did.”

Callie, caught between them, laughed lightly. “Stop being so dramatic, both of you. We’re not breaking up. We’re not even dating.”

Her words made Isla cough and look away quickly. Elara busied herself with fixing the edge of the blanket. No one said anything after that.

But the air had shifted.

Graduation came in a blur of white uniforms and camera flashes. The plaza was filled with flowers, balloons, and the shouts of proud families.

The three of them found each other after the ceremony, away from the crowd, behind the school’s old acacia tree.

“This is it,” Isla said softly, holding her cap to her chest.

Callie looped her arm through both of theirs. “Not the end. Just… the next page.”

Elara looked at the two of them, at the way Callie leaned close, at the way Isla’s hand lingered against Callie’s arm before pulling back.

“Together,” Elara said finally.

“Together,” Isla repeated.

Callie grinned. “Always.”

And in that moment, even with the uncertainty of what lay ahead, the world felt whole.

That summer, they spent as much time as possible together — at the bookstore, at the beach, in the noisy warmth of Isla’s house. Every moment felt like something to be collected, stored away for the future.

One night by the shore, their feet buried in the sand, they finally talked about it.

“Manila,” Isla said quietly, hugging her knees. “Big, loud, scary Manila. I got into a university there.”

“So did I,” Elara admitted. “Same city.”

Callie bit her lip. “I applied too. And… I got in.”

They looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Isla said, laughing suddenly. “All three of us? Same city?”

Callie nodded, eyes shining. “Looks like we’re not breaking the promise after all.”

Elara’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. “We’ll be together.”

The waves crashed against the shore as if sealing the vow. None of them noticed the way Isla’s gaze lingered on Callie a little too long. None of them noticed the way Elara noticed.

And none of them knew that the city would test everything they thought they knew about love, loyalty, and what it really meant to stay together.