(Adrian’s POV)

The air outside is colder than I expected.

Not freezing, but cold enough that I instantly pull my hoodie sleeves over my hands as soon as we step out of the café.

Behind us, Jenna locks the front door while Jay and Lia argue over music choices near Jay’s car.

“Absolutely not,” Lia says.

“You’re attacking my artistic freedom.”

“You tried to play sea shanties last time.”

“They slap.”

Blake laughs quietly beside me.

The sound makes my chest feel weird.

I ignore it.

“Get home safe!” Jenna calls.

“We will!” Blake answers.

Jay points at us dramatically. “No kissing!”

I almost trip on the sidewalk.

“Jay!” I snap while Blake bursts out laughing.

“What?” Jay says innocently. “I’m promoting safety.”

Lia smacks the back of his head.

“Drive before I leave you here.”

Jenna shakes her head like she’s exhausted by all of us. “Goodnight, idiots.”

“Night, Mom,” we answer automatically.

Then it’s just me and Blake walking down the street together.

The city feels different this late.

Quieter.

The shops are mostly closed now, streetlights reflecting against dark windows while cars pass every few minutes. Somewhere in the distance, music echoes faintly from another block.

For a while, neither of us talks.

Not awkwardly.

We’ve known each other too long for silence to feel awkward.

Blake shoves his hands into his jacket pockets beside me. “Your face still hurts?”

“A little.”

“You should ice it again when you get home.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I know.”

He glances at me with a grin.

And there it is again   that stupid warm feeling in my chest every time he looks at me too long.

I hate it.

Probably.

“You got really quiet earlier,” Blake says after a minute.

“I was tired.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Of course it isn’t.

I stare ahead at the sidewalk cracks. “It was a long day.”

“Mhm.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I think you get overwhelmed and pretend you’re not.”

I sigh softly through my nose. “Can you stop knowing things about me?”

“No.”

“That’s annoying.”

“You’ve said that like six times today.”

“Because you keep being annoying.”

Blake bumps his shoulder lightly against mine while we walk.

“You still invited me to lunch tomorrow.”

“That included everyone.”

“Sure.”

“It did.”

“Adrian.”

I groan quietly. “Oh my god.”

He laughs again.

The sound settles into the cold night air so easily that it almost makes everything feel softer.

Almost.

We stop at a crosswalk while the light changes.

Blake glances over at me suddenly. “You scared me earlier.”

There’s no teasing in his voice this time.

Just honesty.

I look down at the street.

“I’m okay now.”

“I know.”

“But?”

He shrugs slightly. “I didn’t like seeing somebody hurt you.”

Something in my chest tightens painfully at how simply he says it.

Like it’s obvious.

Like of course it upset him.

Before I can think of a response, the walk signal changes.

We keep moving.

Our shoulders brush again accidentally   or maybe not accidentally, I honestly can’t tell anymore.

“You know what’s weird?” Blake says suddenly.

“What?”

“I don’t actually remember becoming friends with you.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“I remember meeting you,” he says. “And I remember being terrified of you for like a week after you punched me.”

“You deserved it.”

“Probably.”

“But?”

“But then suddenly you were just…” He gestures vaguely. “There.”

I glance at him sideways.

“That made no sense.”

“You make sense for me though.”

My heart nearly stops.

Blake keeps talking before I can recover.

“Like, when something happens, you’re the first person I think about telling.” He shrugs. “You’ve kinda just always been there.”

The words hit harder than they should.

Because I know exactly what he means.

I can’t remember a version of my life that didn’t include him either.

Summer camp turned into middle school.

Middle school turned into high school.

And somewhere in between, Blake stopped feeling like a friend I made and started feeling like part of me.

Which is terrifying.

“So,” Blake says casually, completely unaware he just emotionally destroyed me, “you ever gonna tell me why you still wear that necklace?”

My hand immediately goes to the pendant under my hoodie.

The sun pendant.

The one Jay wouldn’t shut up about earlier.

I stare ahead stubbornly. “No.”

Blake grins. “You know I gave that to you because you cried over losing a carnival prize, right?”

“I was nine.”

“You were devastated.”

“The ring toss game was rigged.”

“It absolutely was.”

I finally laugh.

A real one this time.

Blake’s expression softens the second he hears it.

God.

He always looks at me like that.

Like my happiness matters more than it should.

We turn onto my street after that.

Apartment lights glow from nearby buildings, warm against the dark sky. My building’s only a few blocks from the café, close enough to walk but far enough that I still technically count as independent.

When we reach the front steps, I stop.

Blake does too.

For a second neither of us says anything.

The night suddenly feels too still.

“You coming to school early tomorrow?” he asks.

“Probably.”

“Liar.”

“I like quiet mornings.”

“You like avoiding people.”

“That too.”

He smiles.

Then his eyes flick back to my cheek.

The bruise.

His expression dims slightly again.

Without really thinking about it, he reaches up and brushes his thumb lightly near the bruise   not touching it fully, just barely there.

Careful.

My breath catches immediately.

The whole world feels like it pauses.

Blake seems to realize what he’s doing at the exact same time I do because his hand stills.

Neither of us moves.

Neither of us speaks.

And suddenly I’m hyperaware of everything.

How close he’s standing.

How warm his hand is.

How easy it would be to lean forward.

My heart is pounding so hard I’m convinced he can hear it.

Then someone yells from an apartment window somewhere above us.

“SHUT UP DOWN THERE!”

We jump apart instantly.

Blake bursts out laughing first.

I cover my face with my hands.

“Oh my god.”

“That was perfect timing,” he says through laughter.

“I’m going inside.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

The words come naturally.

Easy.

Dangerous.

I look up at him.

He’s still smiling.

But softer now.

Like he didn’t mean to say that out loud. Like he wants to take it back and say it again at the same time.

Neither of us moves.

Then I step backward toward the apartment door.

“Goodnight, Blake.”

His eyes stay on me for another second before he finally smiles again.

“Night, sunshine.”

And somehow this time   

I don’t tell him to stop calling me that.