Leo finally looked up, his eyes catching the glow of the amber porch light. “I wasn’t thinking about math, actually.”

Maya held her breath. He reached out, his hand hovering near hers for a second before his fingers tentatively brushed against her knuckles. It was a small gesture, light as a dragonfly’s wing, but it felt like the loudest thing he’d ever said.

She didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her hand over, lacing her fingers through his. The tire swing kept creaking, the world kept turning, but for the first time, the map of their friendship had a new path drawn right through the center. “Change can be okay,” she whispered.

The old tire swing creaked in rhythm with the crickets. Maya sat on the edge of the porch, her sneakers scuffed from a summer of chasing sunsets. Beside her, Leo was busy untangling a knot in his hoodie string, his brow furrowed in that way that usually meant he was thinking too hard.

“You’re doing it again,” Maya said, nudging his shoulder. “Doing what?” “Thinking about the math test on a Friday night.”

“Then what?” she teased, though her heart was drumming a frantic beat against her ribs.