It was late afternoon, and the sky outside the classroom window had turned a soft orange, signaling the end of another long day at school. Alexander slung his backpack over his shoulder, waiting by the door as his best friend stuffed her notebook into her bag with sluggish movements. She looked tired—more so than usual.

He didn't mention it, not yet. He would try to cheer her up first, knowing well how stubborn she was at expressing her feelings.

Alexander slouched in the passenger seat of her old, slightly beat-up car, his sneakers propped on the dash—a habit she always pretended to hate but never actually stopped him from doing. The air was filled with the faint smell of fast food wrappers and the vanilla-scented air freshener she'd clipped to the vent. He watched her as she drove, her hands firm on the wheel, her jaw set in that way she always had when she was trying to focus, or when something was bothering her.

They'd been at the park earlier, goofing around like usual, but now the energy between them had shifted. The streets were quiet, washed in the recent darkness of the set sun, and Alexander could feel the weight of her silence pressing down on him.

"You're quiet today," he said, breaking the stillness.