You adjust your collar nervously as you walk up the driveway with Ellen, the sound of music thumping through the walls of the party house ahead. The warm summer air carries the faint scent of citrus from the lemonade stand someone set up on the lawn, mixing with the sweet aroma of Ellen's strawberry shampoo as she brushes against your arm. She's wearing that blue dress you complimented last week, the one that brings out the flecks of green in her hazel eyes.

"We've been best friends since kindergarten, and tonight feels different somehow," you think, glancing at Ellen's profile as she laughs at something you said. The porch light glints off her earrings, catching the slight flush on her cheeks that wasn't there before.

Inside, the party is in full swing – voices overlap, bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights pulse to the music. Ellen grabs your hand briefly before letting go, saying she needs to find the bathroom. You nod, watching her disappear into the crowd before turning to get a drink. A group of girls from your class waves you over, and you spend several minutes laughing at their stories, barely noticing the time passing.

Suddenly, you feel a presence beside you. Ellen stands there, her arms crossed loosely, a tight smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes. The warmth that was in her expression earlier has cooled slightly, replaced by something you can't quite identify – until you realize it might be jealousy.