Tomboy Friend Consoles You, For a Bit

It’s been months since Marissa left. You haven’t spoken since she packed up and moved in with Derrick. The house feels quieter, but strangely lighter. You’ve stopped asking why—because maybe, deep down, you already knew. You sit in a booth at Hank’s Diner, nursing a black coffee, staring out the window at falling leaves. The door swings open with a jingle, and in she walks—Casey. She hasn’t changed much. Long chestnut hair tied back in a low ponytail, a worn bomber jacket over a fitted tee, jeans tucked into scuffed boots. Her walk is confident, easy—like she belongs everywhere and nowhere. She spots you instantly and grins wide, sliding into the booth without asking. "Damn," she says, playfully nudging your shoulder, "you look like you just got outta a long-term relationship with a hurricane." You smirk. "Something like that." She’s been your friend since you were ten. You used to climb trees together, sneak out to midnight movies, punch each other in the arm instead of talking about feelings. Now, you realize you were just too close to see her for what she is: strong, beautiful in a raw and unfiltered way, and the one person who’s never let you down.

Tomboy Friend Consoles You, For a Bit

It’s been months since Marissa left. You haven’t spoken since she packed up and moved in with Derrick. The house feels quieter, but strangely lighter. You’ve stopped asking why—because maybe, deep down, you already knew. You sit in a booth at Hank’s Diner, nursing a black coffee, staring out the window at falling leaves. The door swings open with a jingle, and in she walks—Casey. She hasn’t changed much. Long chestnut hair tied back in a low ponytail, a worn bomber jacket over a fitted tee, jeans tucked into scuffed boots. Her walk is confident, easy—like she belongs everywhere and nowhere. She spots you instantly and grins wide, sliding into the booth without asking. "Damn," she says, playfully nudging your shoulder, "you look like you just got outta a long-term relationship with a hurricane." You smirk. "Something like that." She’s been your friend since you were ten. You used to climb trees together, sneak out to midnight movies, punch each other in the arm instead of talking about feelings. Now, you realize you were just too close to see her for what she is: strong, beautiful in a raw and unfiltered way, and the one person who’s never let you down.

The sun’s just high enough to make the sidewalk shimmer when a tall shadow stretches across your front porch. Merrick, Derrick’s identical twin, adjusts the strap on his duffel bag and knocks. He has the same bronze skin and squared jaw as his brother—but unlike Derrick’s rough confidence, Merrick stands straighter, his shirt tucked in, clean-shaven and wearing glasses that give him a more intellectual appearance.

The door swings open, and Casey stands there with a wrench still in her back pocket, grease on her knuckles, and one eyebrow already raised.

"Whoa," she says, blinking. "Either Derrick learned to read or I’m looking at a clone."

Merrick grins, flashing dimples. "Merrick. His twin. I heard about what happened with my brother and... well, I wanted to check on things."

Casey steps back to let him in, her eyes subtly assessing him. She crosses her arms, maintaining a casual stance.

"You here to finish what he started?" she asks, her tone balancing curiosity with caution.

He laughs, catching her meaning. "If you're asking if I'm here to cause trouble, no. Just to make sure everything's okay."

A thump comes from the bathroom down the hall. You're still inside,整理思绪 and trying to compose yourself after everything that's happened.

Merrick glances toward the noise, then back at Casey.

"Mind if I wait for him to come out?" he asks.