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Chapter Text

Four days before Qiu would leave Golden Grove again to return to their university and leave you. Four days to somehow summon the courage to say aloud what you'd whispered only to your pillow at night. Four days to reveal what you had held close to your heart.

Four. Days.

It had felt easy at first. After all, you'd been best friends for years—what were three months apart? When they left for that out-of-state university, the goodbye had been teary, yes, but you'd reassured yourself they'd come back even if it was so far away.

Much less could be said about you. No, when you planted yourself in Golden Grove, you had been determined to put roots so deep in the ground that not even your mom could uproot you again.

You weren't like the others, ready to run off and embrace change. You had chosen this life, this town, with its familiar faces and predictable days. You chose the comfort of online schooling while the rest packed up and moved on. While they left.

And when Qiu and Tamarack no longer graced your bedroom with their laughter and light, the house felt colder and emptier, especially with your mom taking more business trips now that you were an adult.

That first week, you found yourself hiding a teary voice in a three-way call with your friends that lasted an hour. They'd promised to call every day, but the best-laid plans never consider being a new freshman in college. Very quickly, the calls devolved into sporadic spurts of text conversation, erratic like the flicker of a dying candle.

You understood. Of course, you did. They were busy, and so were you. That was what you claimed in happy texts that ended in a thumbs-up emoji.

In actuality, you found yourself staring at your phone most days, scrambling for the device whenever it lit up. You tried to occupy yourself, even taking a job as an assistant editor at the Golden Grove Gazette. However, you still felt their absence... especially Qiu's.

It was different with Qiu. Always had been. Always would be. Much like the rest of Golden Grove's student body, you'd admired and crushed on them for so long. Even when they had iced everyone else out, they had kept you close. You'd never told them how much that meant to you, but it was more precious than all the stars you'd gazed at together, lying on your backs in the damp grass of your backyard at night.

Even when you also pushed everyone away, crashed out, and earned the moniker "Golden Grove's Local Delinquent," they stayed. They didn't judge, but they were worried because they knew what it felt like to feel lost. Through their help, you righted yourself somewhat, even if much damage had already been done. You still didn't know how to thank them for that.

Loving Qiu, even quietly, was like loving the sun on a frosted morning. Its rays would somehow penetrate through the chill to warm your face, comforting and cozy. It'd been like that since you were 10.

You'd watch them from across the schoolyard, noting their every move. Noticing how they carried themselves differently from others around them, confident but kind. Taking mental note of how the wind blew their silky dark hair and how it'd catch the light in such a way that it would cause you to stare for just a few moments longer than anyone else.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you swore you caught them staring back when you weren't looking.

However, as time marched on and your crush grew into something much fonder and more profound, you resigned yourself to friendship. Everyone liked Qiu; you were not unique in that sort of way. You told yourself it was enough, thinking it better to have them as a friend than to lose them altogether if they didn't feel the same. Time hid your deeper love like seeds under snow, and you tried to forget the words you were too afraid to speak. And as time did what it does, you slowly accepted that it had been too long to utter them aloud at all.

Until they left.

Then, it was like all the years of buried longing had rushed to the surface and the forefront of your mind like roots cracking the pavement, like released hounds, barking and gnashing at your thoughts. You believed you could go the rest of your life only half loving Qiu Lin. Loving them contently from afar in a quiet part of your heart.

But the ache from the distance only revealed more and more that half loving Qiu Lin felt like a life half lived.

When they texted some obscure (but funny) anti-thanksgiving meme in the group chat stating they'd be home for the four-day break, you knew you couldn't let the time pass by without telling them.

Because you knew with even more certainty that you would likely never get another chance. The gap between you two was expanding, and if you didn't jump now, it'd become too vast for even the most skilled leap to make it across.

You had just hit 'submit' on your last online midterm test when you felt your phone buzz a couple times next to you on your bed. Closing the laptop, you grabbed it and read the text messages coming in with a growing smile:

Chapter Text

The rickety "hideout" fort creaked mournfully under you as you climbed its weathered wall, pulling yourself toward the top. Pale, sun-bleached wood like dry bones brushed your skin, and you were careful with your hand placement to avoid splinters for the thousandth time.

The fort was a skeleton of your childhood, each wooden beam a brittle rib holding together a heart that beat with memories. The wood was warping in some places, and every nail was colored with rust. At some point over the years, you had to get creative with your foot placement because the rock wall was missing its original number of steps.

You could still hear Mrs. Lin's voice from a year ago, requesting Mr. Lin to tear it down, calling it a "safety hazard." It absolutely was—is—but that didn't stop Qiu, Tamarack, and you from protesting incessantly over keeping it up. The two adults eventually relented, much to your trio's pleasure of keeping a piece of your childhood a bit longer.

As you reached the top, you thought distantly that it'd likely come down now that Qiu wouldn't be here, the true reason for it still standing gone. Nostalgic bitterness coated your throat like a sour film with the understanding that next fall, this yard would likely be empty, and this fort would be nothing but another memory.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice called, pulling you back from the brink of your common stormy thoughts. Your eyes snapped up, and there they were—Qiu, grinning down at you with that easy, sunlit smile and amused dark eyes, crouched against the post of the opening.

It was like everything else dimmed. Your breath caught, and for a moment, your mind went blank, as if spooked by their very sight, as if you had forgotten why you were here.

They were just as beautiful as you remembered. Even more so. Their hair was half up, dark and loose, a few strands framing their face. Their grin settled into a gentle smile as they reached out a hand to help you up. Schooling your features to be more nonchalant, you readily grasped it, relishing the warmth that spread up your arm from the contact.

"Hey yourself," you replied cooly while climbing into the hideout. Your nose was filled with the scent of old wet wood and earth as you righted yourself and briefly took in the interior. The thing hadn't changed since the last time the three of you were in it—a shrine to simpler days.

The ceiling was bordered with a string of battery-operated twinkle lights—long since burned out, victims of time and the elements. A rouge blanket lay crumpled in the corner abandoned. Some well-worn comics and magazines were scattered around it haphazardly as if the group had left in a hurry and just never returned.

No time travel was involved, yet it felt like only yesterday—this time capsule of youth.

Qiu settled themselves against the far wall, stretching their legs, and you did the same across from them. There was no way the two of you could stand in the space anymore. That ended around age 14, but somehow, you kept coming back, all of you. It was like a touchstone, a headquarters.

Now, the small fort was comfortably cramped with your legs stacked side-by-side. Qiu shoved their hands in their jacket pockets and leaned their head back to look at the ceiling. It was a routine of sorts; no words are needed right away. No expectation of entertainment in the slightest. Just the quiet calm between two people who knew each other better than anyone else.

"Oh, right!" Qiu exclaimed, suddenly remembering, twisting around to reach into the back pocket of their jeans. You couldn't help but smirk; it was so like Qiu to forget why they'd asked you to come in the first place. Even still, you were buzzing with curiosity.

After a moment of fumbling, they produced something, hiding it behind their back, and paused for dramatic effect with a grin. You laughed and nudged their leg.

"Come on, you're killing me here, and it's getting cold!" The sun had already dipped below the tree line, blanketing the world in the blues and purples of twilight. It had also taken the warmth, and you could start to see your breath puff small, visible clouds. As you waited, you could faintly smell smoke on the gentle wind of someone burning leaves. Qiu chuckled in response.

"Okay, okay, I've made you suffer long enough." With a self-assured smirk, they revealed what they'd been hiding. Dangling from their hand was a keychain—a small, smiling dolphin. It spun lazily on its metal ring like a leaf caught in a gentle current.

You blinked, then reached out to take it, turning it over and brushing your thumb over the warm, smooth plastic. The words were engraved in delicate cursive on the dolphin's side: "Prism Vista City."

Where Qiu was attending school.

It had been quite a story of how Qiu ended up there. Last year, seemingly out of the blue, back from the dead, an old childhood friend, Baxter Ward, had reached out to all of you wanting to make amends and reconnect. Somehow, that led Qiu and their parents to California to visit Baxter and see the university there.

Unsurprisingly, Qiu fell in love with the city. With its warm weather, bright lights, and something always going on—ever-changing, it was right up Qiu's alley. Moreover, the university held a highly reputable program that Qiu wanted to study, and they already knew someone in the area.

Of course, they had been accepted. Of course, they had decided to go. You had been happy for them. Thrilled, even. It had seemed like such a grand adventure—a reunion, a new beginning. How could you ever be upset about that?

Your fingers tightened around the dolphin, bending its top fin slightly.

"For your keys!" Qiu said with some pride, crossing their arms. That's right, you had car keys now. At the beginning of summer, your mom relinquished ownership of the old vehicle to you and bought herself a newer one. It had made you feel invincible, like a superhero, driving Qiu and Tamarack around on those late, warm nights with the windows down and music blasting. Another memory you held dear.

"Thanks! It'll be my first one, actually. This was really thoughtful, Qiu. You didn't have to get me anything, though," You gave them a genuine smile, clutching the little gift to your chest.

Qiu beamed at you like they'd just won the lottery. For a moment, that familiar flutter filled your stomach. You could tell them now. You could get it over with and let the words out into the open air, but then what? The thought flickered, and you brushed it aside.

What mattered was that Qiu was here now, and time was slipping through your fingers like water. You could tell them how you felt, risk losing them forever, or stay silent and lose them just the same. You opened your mouth to speak, but Qiu beat you to it.

"I absolutely needed to! I was at the pier with Micah and some of our other friends—you remember me telling you about Micah, right? Well, anyway, it's actually a pretty funny story. We'd all just got out of class, and Kacy said…" The rest of Qiu's story had faded into radio static.

Your eyes trailed down to the dolphin with its mocking smile. Right. Qiu was building a life there. They already had new friends, like you knew they would. Even outside of Golden Grove, they still shined.

They were already building new memories. Memories that didn't include you.

Like watching a movie that you already knew the ending to, you felt yourself drift away from the moment, just like everything else in this damn town.

Just like everything else in your life.

If only you were more like them, brave enough to leave, to chase the unknown. But you weren't. You weren't smart like that, determined—ambitious. You had chosen to stay, to settle, and that's where your life remained buried, while Qiu's only grew like vines reaching for the sun.

"Hey, you okay?" Came Qiu's voice. You finally snapped your head up to look at them, a dull ache forming behind your eyes. They wore an amused smile until it melted off their face at whatever expression they saw on yours.

You tried to school it into something more pleasant and failed miserably. Qiu's face morphed into concern, and they sat up straighter. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me."

You shook your head, shoving the dolphin deep into your coat pocket, where it felt like a lead weight. "It's nothing. I'm just super stressed about this last exam I have to do tonight," you lied.

The words tasted bitter in your mouth. At one point in your adolescence, lying came as naturally to you as breathing. Lying to teachers, parents, and, in one case, the authorities, but never Tamarack and Qiu. Nowadays, lying comes out in 'I'm doing great's and 'Yeah, I love school!'

A rock settled in your stomach, watching Qiu nod in understanding, believing you. "Man, I feel you there. I still have an essay due at midnight," they commiserated.

"How much do you have left to do?" You inquired earnestly, happy to have the shift in conversation. Qiu's eyebrows pinched together, and they winced.

"I, uh, sort of haven't started it yet," they confessed with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to see you first. Plus, there's no way it'll take all night anyway."

"Qiu!" You groaned exasperatedly. Their eyes darted away guiltily, and you reached down to lightly smack their leg, earning another wince. "Well, that settles it." You shuffled towards the exit and began to climb down the rock wall. From behind, you heard Qiu mutter something and then sigh.

"Aw, come on! I just got back. Just a little longer?" they pleaded. Your feet landed with a soft thud on the grass below, and you turned to look up at them, leaning over the rail, just like the first time you met—except you were not as merciful as your ten-year-old self.

"Only one of us gets to be the burnout, Qiu Lin, and that role is already taken so—" you claimed with mock pride while putting your hands on your hips. In the same instance, you jutted a thumb behind you to their house. "Get to it."

Qiu's smile faltered. They never liked it when you joked about that. But it was true—you were the former gifted kid turned crash-out stoner while Qiu was…well, Qiu.

"That's not…" Qiu began, but you cut them off.

"If you don't start now, I'll make sure mom doesn't bring her pumpkin pie tomorrow," you threatened with a devilish smirk. Qiu laughed and narrowed their eyes.

"You wouldn't," they challenged.

"Find out," you shot back. Qiu's eyes widened with panic.

"Alright! Okay!" They gave a resigned sigh. "You know too many of my weaknesses; you've become too powerful." With a final sigh, they swung over the rail and jumped to the ground. You laughed at their antics. The fall wasn't nearly as high as when you were kids, but Qiu still managed to make it look daring.

In the deepening twilight, you stood there, face to face, the stars now bright and clear above you. They seemed closer here, sharper, like little diamonds twinkling in an onyx net. One of the things you loved most about Golden Grove was the minimal light pollution.

You, Qiu, and Tamarack had spent so many nights stargazing. Even more so with just the two of you. It felt like it had been yours and Qiu's thing—a private ritual. Qiu followed your gaze, and their smile grew as they looked up to the heavens.

"Jeez, I forgot how bright the stars are. You don't get that in Prism Vista," they said, almost wistfully.

"Yeah, that's cities for you," you murmured, wondering if they had looked up at the same night sky in those last few months and thought of you.

"True," Qiu replied. "Then again, with so much to do there, who needs stars? We used to stare at them for hours just to keep from going out of our minds with boredom." They chuckled softly, still gazing upward, sounding so casual.

Your heart ached. This thing that had meant so much to you was a distraction to them. For you, it had never been about the stars. It had always been about the person beside you, the one who had put them in the sky.

"…Qiu?" Your voice came out small, almost fragile. They lowered their head from the sky to look down at you, a kind smile gracing their face. Silence stretched thickly between the two of you.

Qiu's brow softened, and their smile shifted into something gentler, sending a flush to your cheeks and making your heart race. You stepped back, wussing out from whatever you were originally going to say. "Uh, we'll be over around three tomorrow," you said instead, stumbling over your words. "Mom wants us to help." Qiu blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll let mom know," they nodded, still looking slightly confused. You turned, eager to escape, but Qiu continued. "You don't have to go, though! If you're not busy—I mean, you could help me with this essay?" they asked, hopefully.

You turned back with a tight smile. "No, I need to get back to do that exam, and besides, you know we'd never get anything done, and then my threat would be pointless because I'm the one who distracted you," you laughed, then added, "Thanks again for the gift," You held up the dolphin and quickly shoved it back in your pocket. Qiu nodded, half-smiling.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then." With your own nod, you turned and headed in the direction you came.

"Love you!" Qiu called after you when you were halfway across the yard.

The words flowed through you, brushing delicately against your heart like a breeze, but you didn't answer, letting the crunch of leaves underfoot drown out the silence.

You pretended not to hear as you went, knowing it wasn't that kind of love and you couldn't say it back this time. That was boundary of your lying.

"I love you too," you whispered into your scarf as you went, clutching the keychain harder.

This was going to be the hardest Thanksgiving break of your life.

Chapter Text

You rounded the corner of the Lin residence, feeling slightly worse for wear. Sleep had been the enemy after last night's interaction with your best friend. You had tossed and turned like a ship in a stormy sea, waves of thoughts crashing against the fragile hull of your mind until fatigue dragged you under its murky waters around 5 a.m.

Even now, your mind was still anchored in the hideout, replaying the moments over and over like an old, silent film on repeat. You shook your head, trying to dispel the lingering fog, and pushed onward, kicking at the blanket of autumn leaves under your feet as if somehow that could bolster you.

It did not.

The crisp air nipped at your cheeks, sharp as a knife, and the earthy scent of decaying leaves filled your nostrils, a bittersweet reminder of the season slipping away. You inhaled deeply, but the cold air only seemed to tighten the knot in your chest.

The front door of the Lin house loomed before you, and your hand hesitated on the doorknob, fingers curling around the cold metal. From inside, you could hear laughter echoing through the walls, and the warm, savory scent of cooked food seeped through the cracks, filling the air with the comfort of cinnamon, sage, and roasting turkey.

This shouldn't be so hard, you thought. For years now, you and your mom, the Baumanns, and the Lins had shared Thanksgiving together. It began that very first Thanksgiving after you moved to Golden Grove when you'd confided in Qiu that it would be just you and your mom for the holiday—no one else. No distant relatives, no friends from before.

Qiu, being Qiu, had taken it upon themselves to make sure no one felt left out that Turkey Day. They always felt responsible for everyone's happiness back then, as if their arms were wide enough to gather the whole world in a hug, always feeling like it was their duty.

Luckily for you, that kindness had extended to your small family.

You still didn't know how they had convinced their parents, but the three families gathered around a shared table every year since then. Your mom had expressed her gratitude a hundred times, but you always felt a quiet relief mixed with something more—something you had never quite dared to name.

With a steadying breath, you turned the knob and stepped inside, the warm air embracing you immediately like a soft blanket. From the entryway, voices drifted in from the kitchen, mingling with the soft drone of a TV playing in the background. Your eyes traveled to the couch, where Mr. Baumann, Tamarack's grandfather, was already snoozing—his head tipped back, mouth slightly open, newspaper on his lap in a nap born of habit now that he was actually retired, not turkey-induced drowsiness.

You began to take off your shoes, your gaze wandering toward the dining room. The table was already set, the plates gleaming under the soft light of the chandelier, the silverware perfectly aligned. The Lins were hosting this year, just as you and your mom had hosted last year, and the Baumanns the year before that.

Everything seemed as it always was—perfectly in place—but something felt off-kilter, like a picture hanging slightly askew.

Suddenly, a voice cut through your thoughts.

"You're late!" Before you could even register the words, you were pulled into a warm hug, the familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon wrapping around you like a favorite old sweater.

"Tamarack!" you exclaimed, pulling back just enough to look at her. "I thought you were going to be in Florida for Thanksgiving?"

Tamarack smiled faintly, her fingers nervously tugging at the cuff of her cardigan. The sight of her made your heart swell. She'd cut her hair, and it fell in soft waves just above her shoulders, the vibrant red catching the light in a way that made it glow like embers in a fireplace. You'd always loved how her hair seemed to blaze like that, and seeing her now, you realized just how much you'd missed her presence.

"I was, but… Dad had this academic convention thing, and—" she paused, her eyes flicking downward. "Well, you know how it is."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, understanding all too well. You rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, offering a silent reassurance that you knew she needed. Tamarack had heard enough complaints about her parents from you over the years. You'd save it this time.

"Well, their loss because I get you all to myself then," you teased, lightening the mood, and Tamarack laughed softly, fanning your hand away with a mock frown.

"Hey, not true! I'm here too," came Qiu's voice, clear and bright, cutting through the air like a sunbeam as they emerged from the kitchen at the end of the hallway. Your heart stumbled in your chest, further tangling your thoughts with last night's almost-confession.

You found a crack in the entryway tile incredibly interesting as they approached. "I've been waiting for you," they stated casually, and your eyes snapped up.

I have been waiting for you, not we. You couldn't help the little giddiness you felt that, in turn, made you cringe internally.

"Well, here I am," you said coolly, shrugging and fanning your hands at your sides sarcastically.

Qiu laughed, "Yes, I can see that. Your mom said you were up late? Did your test go okay?" Their dark eyes widened slightly as if in concern.

The expression sent your heart leaping into your throat. Damn it. What would normally be an easy response escaped you in a choked grunt, and you mentally kicked yourself for being such a baby.

"Oh, uh, yeah! It went fine, just stress—y'know," you stammered lamely. From the corner of your eye, Tamarack's gaze oscillated between the two of you. Then, her red eyes narrowed as if trying to read between the lines of a page that wasn't meant for her.

You could practically feel her thoughts buzzing, and it took everything in you to not pinch her to keep whatever she was about to say to herself. She had an uncanny ability to sniff out your lies from a mile away. You were sure she'd known how you felt about Qiu for a long time, even though you'd never explicitly discussed it.

"You three going to loiter about or make yourselves useful?" Granny's voice rang out from the kitchen, halting Tamarack in her tracks. All three of you tensed like deer caught in headlights.

"Coming!" You answered in unison before all but running down the hall to help. The moment you crossed the threshold, it felt like you'd stepped back in time.

The warm, familiar kitchen space was bustling with activity. Mrs. Lin stood at the stove, expertly maneuvering pots. Mr. Lin stirred gravy on the other side, his brow furrowed in concentration. There was even a small army of Tupperware and bowls covering every spare countertop.

Your nose twitched at the scent of rosemary, sage, and basil swirling together. They made space for your mom, who was removing her homemade rolls from the oven heat with a pair of bright red mitts. You smirked slightly.

The Lins' kitchen had always been a place of warmth and comfort, even from the first moment you stepped into it so many years ago. It was a living memory, a scrapbook filled with laughter and the smells of comfort.

The walls were painted in a soft, buttery yellow that glowed under the warm overhead lights, and the cabinets were made of rich wood that matched the worn, well-loved floorboards. The windows were always open, letting in fresh autumnal air and fading light that reflected off the various mahogany accents scattered around the room.

It was a kitchen you associated with homework at the counter, with secret snacks during sleepovers, and with being shooed out of the back door by Mrs. Lin as she cooked. You'd snuck in that same backdoor on late nights as much as you and Qiu had been chased out of it. There's a reason why some people say the kitchen is the heart of the house.

As silly as it sounded, it felt like your own heart was beating in sync with every bubbling pot and crackling pan.

"You sure you even need help? Seems like we'd just be in the way," you chuckled. Sitting at the counter, Granny turned and wagged her finger at you with mock sternness.

"Nonsense, you kids—excuse me, adults—need to be put to work," she insisted. "Here, egg duty for the three of you. I need to make sure Opa isn't sleeping again. I swear, he'd miss the whole day if it wasn't for me," she grumbled before rising and making her escape.

"She knows Opa is going to be asleep. She just did that to get out of her own work," Tamarack murmured with a sigh. For a moment, she looked like a younger version of Granny—her expression, the way she crossed her arms, her wry smile. You'd heard it a thousand times before—how Tamarack had more of Granny in her than either of her parents. You couldn't help but smile at the resemblance, preferring it.

Tamarack grabbed an egg from the bowl, tapping it lightly against the granite counter before beginning to peel it. You and Qiu shared a look and, with a resigned shrug, formed a makeshift assembly line. Tamarack peeled the eggs, Qiu sliced them in half and scooped out the yolks, and you mixed the filling, stirring in mayo, mustard, and paprika before spooning it back into the waiting whites.

The three of you slipped into an easy rhythm, light conversation flowing between you. You laughed over things you'd seen on the internet, movies you'd recently watched, and memories of past Thanksgivings. For a moment, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were just three friends, laughing and working side by side, just like before.

But every so often, someone would mention college—an anecdote, a funny story, a new friend—and the illusion would shatter like glass, the reality slicing your skin. You had nothing to offer in these moments, nothing to relate except a smile here, a nod there, and every so often a shared huff of annoyance in reference to studying.

The eggs were finished, and so was the rest of the food. After a chaotic setting of the table—filled with jostling, teasing, and Granny's laughter echoing from the doorway—you all finally sat down to eat. The table was overflowing with dishes—classic Thanksgiving staples like turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce, but also foods that reflected your friends' heritages.

Things like mooncakes that Qiu's family would get for the Mid-Autumn Festival, but always again for this special occasion, each one delicately shaped and filled with lotus paste. Granny had brought her famous kartoffelsalat, a potato salad recipe passed down from Mr. Baumann's mother and her mother before her, all the way back to Germany.

And, of course, your mom's pumpkin pie sat in the center, much to Qiu's noticeable relief.

The table buzzed with conversation as everyone ate, voices overlapping in a warm, familiar sound. You reached for one of the rolls, but your hand collided with Qiu's at the exact same moment. They swatted your hand away with a playful grin, snatching up the last one.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, feigning outrage. Qiu just laughed, eyes twinkling with that mischief that was oh-so-them.

"Gotta be quicker than that," they teased, but in the same breath, they were tearing the roll in half, offering you a piece with a soft, almost unconscious gesture of affection.

Cheeks flaming, you took the role without even a quip, which was unusual—normally, you never let Qiu have the last word. Beside you, Tamarack chuckled, and you nudged her gently with your elbow.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've still got it bad, huh?" Tamarack whispered, her tone teasing. Qiu was busy explaining to Granny again what they were studying at school; their animated voice faded into the background.

"Sh-shut up!" you hissed louder than you intended. It was the first time she had ever blatantly referred to what you both knew. "Don't… don't make it obvious," you murmured in a pleading tone, and you busied your hands by cutting into your food.

Tamarack's giggle was light and knowing, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I don't think you need my help to do that," she whispered back with a smug grin. This time, you actually elbowed her, but she just laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

Eventually, the conversation shifted, and you knew what was coming before anyone even opened their mouth. The topic of college and futures turned, unfortunately, to you.

"How's school?" someone asked, and you braced yourself.

"Fine," you mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, hoping the food would muffle the sound of your anxiety.

"Enjoying your classes?" Came the next question.

"Yeah, they're great!" You stated a little too brightly.

"Make any new friends?"

"Well…yeah, actually a few!" you replied, the lie sliding out of your mouth as easily as the rest.

"How's work going?"

"Livin' the dream!" you quipped, flashing a smile that felt more like a grimace.

The table laughed, but it was the same polite laughter you'd heard a hundred times before—the same interview questions, the same rehearsed answers, a tired script playing out on an endless loop.

Then Granny's voice broke through the noise, unexpected and sharp.

"So, what can you even do with that? Your degree?"

"Dorthea…" Mr. Baumann sighed beside her, his tone laced with a familiar exasperation.

"Omi!" Tamarack chided, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"What? It's an honest question!" She defended herself. "You hear about these college kids studying things they can't even live on, saddled with debt. I'm only a concerned guardian. What, especially with everything that's gone on in the past, I only wanted to make sure they're thinking it through, is all."

Her words hung in the air, cold, like someone had left the dining room window open. It sliced through the warm buzz of the room, and suddenly, it was like the Hallmark golden veneer of the moment faded to the washed-out greys you knew too well.

The table went silent except for the soft clinking of silverware against plates. Granny looked around, realizing too late that she had put her foot in her mouth. "Oh, there I go again," she murmured, sighing. "I'm not trying to be the bad guy…"

You stared at your plate, feeling…nothing. Of course, no one spoke up. They probably thought she was right, and you didn't have the energy to defend yourself. Not like when you were younger and would have reacted in venomous anger.

It wasn't like you even could defend yourself if you wanted to. School, your job, even the act of getting out of bed some days—these were all just formalities you performed so people wouldn't pry too deeply.

You didn't care what she thought. What anyone thought. To hell with them. To hell with all of it. You didn't care… so why was your stomach churning, and why couldn't you look up? Why couldn't you meet anyone's gaze?

"Whatever they want," Qiu's clear voice broke through the tension. Your eyes lifted to see them giving Granny a flat, unyielding look. "They can do whatever they want with their degree. Besides, it's not really your business at the end of the day," they finished gently but with a tone of silk over steel.

The table watched quietly as the two stared each other down. Qiu then shrugged and took a drink from their glass, dismissing it like Granny had asked about the weather.

You'd almost forgotten there was this part of Qiu. That biting, 'you're either with it or you're not' attitude. The fierce, unwavering protector, the one who was just as much the mediator as they were the one who stood their ground and didn't flinch. To bite their thumb in the face of authority when it really mattered.

It was the side that reminded you why you'd fallen in love with them in the first place.

"Qiu, that's not—" Mrs. Lin started, but Granny raised her hand, a look of contrition crossing her face.

"No, no, Qiu is right," Granny nodded, seeming to understand the unspoken line she had crossed. "I'm sorry," she said, turning back to you. "That wasn't polite of me to ask, and even if it was, I went about it very ungracefully. I know you all must think I'm full of sage wisdom at my age, but even I still make mistakes." She chuckled, and a few others followed suit, but the awkward air lingered like smoke in a closed room.

"The tree farm!" Tamarack suddenly blurted out, snapping the tension like a wishbone. You raised an eyebrow. The tree farm?

"We're going tomorrow, right?" she continued, her eyes darting around the table with earnest hope in them. Your brain finally caught up with her words. Every year since you were ten, your three families piled into cars and drove out of the city to a family-owned tree farm to cut down your Christmas trees.

It was a whole day event—an unofficial ceremony that marked the true beginning of the holiday season. When Tamarack Baumann was finally allowed to relish in and shower her Christmas cheer on everyone around. Your cul-de-sac's very own holiday cheer meister and Santa Claus.

You could almost hear her humming Christmas carols under her breath and see her grinning from ear to ear as she dragged everyone through rows of trees taller than the sky. You'd almost forgotten about it…how was that possible?

The memories flooded back, of snow-dusted laughter, steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and Qiu's smile beneath a mist of frosty breath. The moments you cherished—the warmth that filled you from the inside out, even on the coldest days.

But now, thinking about it only reminded you of how much had changed, how there was no guarantee this would happen again. How much more complicated things felt. If Tamarack hadn't said anything, would this have just been another memory that remained just that? You swallowed, trying to clear the lump that had formed in your throat.

"I don't see why not if the Lins and the Seconds are for it. It is a tradition, after all," Granny interjected, seeming to try and make up for her previous fumble.

"A tradition! Yes!" Tamarack exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she turned to you and Qiu as if the two of you were her last hope.

Qiu gave a quick nod, their smile warm, "Yeah, we definitely can't miss that."

"Great," Mr. Lin chimed in. He clasped his hands together, that quiet enthusiasm he always seemed to carry filling the air. "Us older adults can take our car. Would you be okay chauffeuring on the other end?" Mr. Lin and the rest of the table's attention fell back onto you.

"Uh, yeah, sure." You nodded, feeling a small surge of pride. It almost felt good to be old enough to be depended on, to have some small responsibility that made you feel trusted.

"I'm getting the perfect tree this year. I can feel it," Tamarack declared with confidence, eyes closed like she was already picturing the evergreen tree.

"Tamarack, last you picked a tree so tall you guys had to put it in your backyard and get another one," Qiu teased.

"That's why this year is going to be perfect. I've learned from my mistakes." She quipped back with a smirk. The table burst into laughter, and the tension that had hovered in the air just minutes ago seemed to melt away, dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

With bellies full and plenty of leftovers, the group began the ritual of cleaning up. You and Qiu were assigned dish duty while Tamarack busied herself with loading food into Tupperware for people to take home.

The kitchen had a quiet busyness about it. Every so often, you'd hear Granny or your mom laugh aloud. You and Qiu stood side by side at the sink, the warm water flowing over your hands as you washed and rinsed. Tamarack hummed behind you, working on her own task. For a moment, it was just the two of you again, the rest of the world fading into the background.

"Thanks for earlier," you mumbled, barely louder than the water, as you scraped at a stubborn piece of food on a plate. "You didn't have to—y'know—say anything."

Qiu glanced at you, their expression softening, a small smile pulling at the corners of their mouth. "Of course I did. Granny will just keep going if no one stops her, and what she said wasn't cool."

They paused for a moment, thinking about their words before speaking; their dark eyes were searching yours. "I just don't get why you always look like you're in trouble when someone brings up that kind of stuff. You're…doing great."

You handed a plate to them to be rinsed without meeting their gaze. Of course, they'd think that. You'd damned yourself to make it so.

"Right…" You only offered in response. Their hand brushed yours as they reached for the dishcloth, and your heart gave a little leap.

The contact was brief, fleeting, but it left a spark in its wake, an electricity that hummed between you like a live wire.

The dumbest thing, you thought. This was a person you'd spent the night within each other's rooms for years, sharing beds, and now you acted as if you were a Victorian who'd touched someone's hand without a glove.

Your cheeks burned, heat rushing to your face as you quickly returned to the dishes, scrubbing harder as if trying to wash away the emotions rising to the surface. The room seemed to shrink around you, the silence thickening. Qiu, usually so effortlessly chatty, was suddenly focused on a single spot on a wine glass, rubbing it over and over as if it might reveal some secret if they just polished hard enough.

It was then you noticed the absence of Tamarack's humming. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw her watching the two of you, her eyes wide, caught in the act of witnessing something unspoken.

"Oh! All done here! You guys need any help?" She stammered, scrambling to place a lid on an overfilled bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Nah, this was the last glass. I'll get the bigger stuff later," Qiu replied too quickly. Even though you offered to finish, Qiu would not be swayed. You felt the evening slipping away, an ache in your chest at the thought of it ending.

"Well…" you started, searching for an excuse, any excuse, to hold onto this moment a little longer. "I'd say we've earned ourselves a little walk, don't you think, Qiu?" You raised your eyebrows, a devil-may-care smile forming.

Qiu immediately caught your undertone and nodded with a knowing smirk. "I think you'd be right. A nice nature walk. We've earned it."

Tamarack looked between the two of you, suspicion narrowing her eyes. "A walk? I don't wanna go for a walk. Why—" Then she stopped, her eyes narrowing further. "Oh. A walk. Really?"

Qiu shrugged, playing innocent, and you simply gave a mischievous smile. "Exactly; what better time for a walk than after so much food."

Tamarack rolled her eyes with a long, exaggerated sigh. "Fine."

With a shared conspiratorial grin, the three of you slipped out the back door as if you were still teenagers sneaking away, even though you were past the age of needing anyone's permission. The forest loomed ahead, shadows thickening beneath the trees. The air felt cooler, sharper as if it were holding its breath in anticipation. Waiting for the three of you to return under it's branches.

Qiu slung an arm over your shoulder, their laughter light and carefree. You felt yourself stumble, caught between the want to lean closer and the fear of falling.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow, I'll say something. But for tonight, you let yourself pretend that time wasn't marching on, that it was just you and your two best friends sneaking out into the dark for a relaxing walk like nothing had changed at all.

Chapter Text

The drive to Grayson's Family Tree Farm felt longer than it did in past years, the asphalt stretching in front of your car like a long, worn path. Outside the car, the world was a blur of gray and muted browns sprinkled with the spindly skeletal limbs of bare trees. A few tenacious leaves clung stubbornly to branches as if it was autumn's last breath before the land would be blanketed in a thick sheet of snow.

It was as if the world was hesitating, caught briefly between two seasons, just as we cling to fleeting moments already passing, watching them fade like breath in the biting air. Autumn grasping to what remains while winter sweeps in, altering what we know. Quietly, like falling snow, ending all that was.

Tamarack hummed contentedly from the backseat, following along with "White Christmas" playing through the car's speakers. She had commandeered the aux cord as soon as she had buckled her seat belt, her ruby eyes already sparkling. Who were you to deny her that simple pleasure?

Her enthusiasm for the holiday tradition was as infectious as ever - or at least, it should have been. You remembered when her joy used to spark something similar in you, but now it felt like watching a favorite movie with the sound turned down, all the meaning somehow muffled and distant.

Beside you, Qiu sat in the passenger seat, their fingers drumming lightly against their thigh in time with the music. However, there was something off in their rhythm, slight hesitations in the drumming of their fingers that matched the occasional furrow in their brow. Their gaze was fixed on the passing scenery, eyes distant and reflective as if lost in a world only they could navigate.

You observed them from the corner of your eyes, noticing the far-off look about them. It wasn't uncommon for Qiu to seem so scatterbrained, even now, as an adult. Still, it felt out of place for them, and you made a mental note to inquire about the change later on.

The car smelled pleasantly of Tamarack's signature perfume—a blend of vanilla and cinnamon that felt like coming home—and something more subtle and earthy that continued to cling to your coat.

Yesterday evening, the three of you had trekked through the woods behind the Lin's house, your breath misting in the chilly air as you and Qiu passed a shared blunt back and forth. The ritual was an old one, a relic from teenage years when the world felt too big and too small all at once.

Tamarack hadn't participated, but she still tagged along, happy for the company. She'd always said the woods were enough on their own to relax—a sentiment you could appreciate but never quite feel. For you, the haze took the edge off, softening the sharp corners of your thoughts that threatened to cut too deep.

But even that familiar comfort, a ritual years old, felt distant, like the smoke tendrils floating to the dark sky. The buzz had faded too quickly, leaving behind a restless tension coiled beneath your skin and continued to pull taut. You could still picture Qiu's heavy-lidded eyes illuminated by the moonlight, their laughter echoing in the dark, cutting the silence of the sleeping forest around you.

It used to be enough—those stolen moments of teenage rebellion, when it felt like you and Qiu were against the world, to feel that world narrow down to just the two of you. Now, it was a reminder of how temporary everything felt—moments like smoke pluming into the sky.

Even this morning, the familiar ritual hadn't provided its usual escape. Instead of dulling your senses, it had somehow made you more aware of every subtle shift in Qiu's behavior — the way their laughter seemed to catch in their throat, how their eyes would drift away when talking about school, the slight tension in their shoulders when Tamarack mentioned winter break plans.

You felt like an exposed nerve, sensitive to every word from your mouth or theirs. Nervous doubt coated your tongue and brain in a viscous goo until the high began to thankfully ebb.

"You're not gonna get lost again, right, Tamarack?" Qiu's teasing voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, though something in their tone felt forced like they were playing a part they'd rehearsed too many times. From the corner of your eye, you saw the faint smirk tugging at their lips. In the review mirror, you witnessed Tamarack's theatrical eye roll.

"Are you going to bring that up every year?" she groaned. "Plus, I was not lost. I just went off-path to find the best tree. Something you couldn't relate to because the trees you always pick are sad," she harrumphed while crossing her arms.

"They are not sad!" Qiu spun in their seat to glare daggers at Tamarack. Your mutual friend had the best track record of taunting and challenging Qiu, even unintentionally. If it was an Olympic sport, Tamarack Baumann would win gold every time. "They're just… Smaller than yours, that's all!" Qiu protested.

"You mean scrawny, " Tamarack shot back with a self-assured smirk. You huffed a small laugh, keeping your eyes on the road.

Qiu whipped around, and you could practically feel the fire in their faux glare. "I see you snickering!" You couldn't stop the laughter that abrupted from you. One of your hands shot up from the steering wheel in defense.

"Sorry, sorry!" You defended, still laughing. Qiu's eyebrows furrowed.

"You don't think the trees I pick are scrawny, do you?" They asked pleadingly.

"No! They're uh…practical," you tried. The back of the car erupted into a boisterous roar of laughter. With a pout, Qiu crossed their arms and turned their attention back to the window.

"Whatever. I like my trees; they have character," they muttered, but they couldn't hide their smile and pleasantly closed eyes as they rested their head on the glass.

Leave it to Tamarack to turn the tables on Qiu's teasing. The car settled back into silence, save for Tamarack's holiday playlist, and you allowed yourself the smallest of smiles, letting the jolly music fill your ears. Letting the moment of nostalgia somehow ground you in the present.

You knew you were approaching Grayson's tree farm when the black asphalt running beneath your wheels transitioned to dirt and gravel. The familiar sun-bleached sign for the farm came into view, welcoming you into the gravel parking lot.

You pulled in, parking next to the Lin's vehicle and others. The area was full of cars that had carried other families here to complete their own tree-cutting tradition.

Killing the engine, the three of you shuffled out of the car, and you were immediately hit with the strong scents of sap, pine, and wood smoke. Around you was a sea of pine, spruce, and evergreen trees ranging from Charlie Brown specials to towering giants that seemed to scrape the heavy grey sky. They swayed in a slight breeze that carried a sharp bite, the smell of frost, and the promise of possible snow.

You were glad you'd layered up —the morning's weather report had warned of temperatures dropping below freezing, nature's way of announcing winter's impending arrival. Like everything else lately, whether you were ready or not, autumn was slipping away. Rocks crunched under your shoes as you followed Qiu and Tamarack, a route practically worn into the dirt to the small wooden shack that served as the farm's entrance.

It was a quaint old structure with a concession window bordered by twinkle lights and wreaths hanging from the eaves, adding to the rustic charm. Wood smoke plumed from the small cylindrical chimney where a wood-burning stove was likely in use.

There, you would retrieve your tools for the tree, and when you returned with your bounty, you'd share hot chocolate and sit by the campfire nearby. It was, as traditions go, the same every single year.

It was a rhythm that had been set in stone. A little dull and repetitive, sure, but reliable and comforting in a time when so much had changed. Even when both you and Qiu couldn't have been bothered to do something "so dumb" in your angsty youth, you still partook in it.

Now, when you felt like your world had been turned upside down in a short few weeks, seeing everything in place made you feel…at home.

Your mom, Granny, and the Lins waited bundled in coats and scarves by the entrance. They waved you over with cheery smiles.

"Finally, you three showed up. It's about to snow!" Granny's voice carried that familiar mix of chiding and affection as she rubbed her hands together against the cold. From beside you, Tamarack's eyes lit up like the Christmas tree that would be in her living room that night.

"Really? That would be perfect!" She grinned. You found yourself glancing at the heavy clouds above, debating whether that was actually true. It wasn't uncommon for Golden Grove to get snow by now, but the perfect scene it would have created made you doubtful.

"Yes, I suppose, but we should hurry if we want to avoid the brunt of it. I can't stand the cold like I used to," Granny sighed, her joints clearly protesting the chill. The Lins and your mom sighed in agreement, their bones and joints not as impervious to the seasonal change as well You wondered when you would be joining the 'I'm too old for this' club with them.

"We were actually thinking you kids would be okay to go off on your own this year. We trust your judgment," Mom explained with an amused, encouraging smile. The three of you balked at the older adults. In years past, you'd always performed a divide-and-conquer mentality.

"We'll stay here by the fire," Mr. Lin added cheerfully. "That way, we can help with the trees when you get back—and sample the hot chocolate quality, of course." He winked, earning round of laughter. Qiu chuffed slightly with a smirk.

"Sitting with some hot cocoa while we do all the work? Gotcha." Mr. Lin responded with a confirming grin and nod.

"Works for me!" Tamarack exclaimed, ever the optimist. "We'll find the most amazing trees and be back before you know it." Tamarack had already started pulling on your coat, urging you to the shack window to get your things.

"Okay, okay! We're coming," you laughed.

"Just stay within the marked areas," your mom cautioned lightly. "And keep an eye on the weather."

"Yes, ma'am," you replied with a mock salute, earning a smile.

With saws in hand and sleds in tow, you set off into the labyrinth of evergreens. As you stepped into the field of trees, the first snowflakes began to dance down from the sky, almost like falling stars in the daytime. It seemed Granny was right after all.

Although it was quieter in the field, you could hear the sounds of other families searching for their perfect tree. Their distant laughter and excited calls floated through the air like music, and you couldn't help but smile at a small child racing past, their purple boots leaving tiny tracks in the gathering snow. Tamarack excitedly vibrated next to you, shot ahead, and began walking backward to address the two of you.

"Just wait and see. I'm gonna get the best tree, and I'll be the first to do it," she nodded as if she'd already completed the task. Without waiting for a response, she spun around and disappeared down one of the rows, dragging her sled with her.

It was always amusing to see Tamarack like this as an adult. Even though she was careful to not dirty her nice clothes or mess up her hair these days, that spark of a younger Tamarack Bauman refused to be completely snuffed out.

One can never fully get rid of the child inside them.

You and Qiu meandered deeper into the grove, still chuckling over Tamarack. The trees grew together thicker, and the scent of pine was stronger. It brought back memories of all the years before —when things were simpler, when next year felt like a distant concept rather than an approaching reality. A companionable silence fell between you. A quiet that wrapped around you made you feel comfortable if you didn't let your mind wander.

"Hey, if we head to the back, I bet there will be some really good ones," Qiu suggested, their breath visible in the cold air. They were smiling, but something in their voice sounded different—hesitant maybe, or tired. You pushed the observation away, not wanting to crack the pleasant surface of the moment.

"Are we—dare I say—competing with Tamarack?" You asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Maybe not for time, but I think I'll rise to the challenge," Qiu replied with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Well then, lead the way," you gestured grandly, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you walked, the rows became less picked over.

The snow was falling steadier now, dusting Qiu's dark hair with white flecks that caught the weak sunlight. They were quiet, staring at their feet as they walked like they would trip without diligent observation. As if the answer to something important was written on their shoelaces.

"You okay?" You nudged them with your shoulder, spurring them out of their thoughts. Qiu blinked a few times and gave you a sheepish smile.

"Oh, yeah. I'm just thinking about this project due on Monday. I haven't started it yet." Something in the way they said it made you wonder if that was the whole story, but you played along, rolling your eyes.

"You should get on that when we get back," you said, trying to keep your tone lightly teasing despite the subtle reminder of their other life, the one that was pulling them away. Even out here among the trees and memories, their thoughts were there instead of here with you.

Qiu laughed, pulling out their phone. "I will, I will. Look—" their thumbs swiped across the screen. "I'll put it in my calendar and set an alarm right now," they explained.

Over the years, Qiu's loose notes had transitioned to reminders and alarms set in their phone. "See? Happy?" They showed the phone to you. The calendar reminder read, Do your damn schoolwork Qiu!!!

"Ridiculously so," you replied with a genuine smile that made them chuckle.

The moment felt so normal, so them, that it made your chest ache with how much you'd miss these small interactions. But the joy of being here, of participating in this tradition together, was real, too. Both feelings existed simultaneously, like the warm sunlight breaking through the cold winter clouds above.

A traitorous thought that turned your cheeks pink said, It could be like this all the time.

You continued your journey, eventually stopping at the edge of the tree field. Ahead of you was the dark of an actual forest, not suitable for Christmas trees. It was nearly silent there, aside from the breeze rustling the pine branches, causing the now heavier snow to dance around you. It had begun to settle on the trees, a dusting of white against the green.

You approached a promising spruce, testing its branches, but you were disappointed to see that it had shed a good amount of its needles from the jostling.

"Y'know, I forgot how quiet it is here," Qiu said thoughtfully while circling a tree a few feet away. "I kinda miss it," they added. Your heart gave a little jolt at the comment. Qiu missed it here?

"Yeah? That's surprising," you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral as you moved to examine another tree. This one had too many dead branches, nature's small imperfections revealing themselves upon closer inspection.

"How so?" Qiu tilted their head in genuine curiosity. You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite to it.

"You hate Golden Grove," you stated simply, moving on to the next candidate. "You always said that once you could get out, you're never coming back." The words came out more pointed than you'd intended, hanging in the cold air between you. Qiu frowned, following behind you.

"Well…I mean, yeah, I know, used to say that all the time when we were younger," they objected, absently running their fingers through the needles of a nearby branch.

The memory of the previous spring hit you suddenly— walking through the park downtown after a movie, the night air warm and full of possibility. It was the first warmer night of the spring season.

The trees had finally burst with their new leaves, and the scent of wet dirt and mulch was constant as you strolled through the empty park. Qiu's acceptance letter to Prism Vista University had come in the mail recently, and it was a common conversation topic.

"It's going to be great, y'know? Finally, get out of this stupid town. You should come to see me for spring break. Get some sun and stuff." They'd said enthusiastically.

At the time, you were all smiles, happy to share their excitement, the situation not dawning on you. A distant reality seemed so alternate that it might as well have been science fiction.

"Just this spring, you were talking about how you couldn't wait to leave everything behind," you scoffed the reminder, still examining the tree.

Leave me behind.

Qiu laughed, but it wasn't their usual carefree sound. "Okay, you got me there," they admitted.

They were quiet for a moment, seeming to be gathering their thoughts. You knelt to examine the base of a particularly full spruce, brushing snow from its lower branches.

"You know…Golden Grove isn't so bad…there's still some good things here," you murmured as you stood, brushing against the lush foliage. You weren't sure what made you say it. The words felt both true and false simultaneously. On one hand, the town was like this tree—imperfect but familiar, rooted in memories.

On the other hand, that was the problem. Golden Grove offered nothing except memories and stagnant change that you clung onto like a lifeline. A knot of selfish guilt burrowed in your gut like you were trying to sell them on the too-small pond that they were clearly too big for.

That their hesitation meant something.

The silence that followed felt heavy with unspoken words. You could feel Qiu's eyes on you, knew they could see through any pretense you might try to maintain. They'd always been able to read you like that, even when you couldn't read yourself.

The gentle rustle of the pine needles and the soft crunch of the snow beneath their boots filled the air until you felt the warmth of Qiu standing next to you. You heard the smallest laugh from them, and as you turned from the tree, you were met with an amused smile.

"You uh…got something—"Qiu started, their hand gentle as they reached out and brushed the snow and pine needles from your hair. The casual touch made your skin tingle. Briefly, your eyes met, and something in Qiu's smile looked different from just a few moments before.

"You're right, though," they said, shoving their hand back into their pocket. "There are still some really nice things in Golden Grove."

The way Qiu rocked back on their heels made you pause, something vulnerable in their posture that reminded you of younger days when they'd try to make it seem like they didn't care as much. They crossed the snowy path to investigate another tree, their voice carrying a too-casual tone.

"I mean, duh, you're here," they said, then quickly added, "And Tamarack, mom and dad, friends from school. But that's what makes leaving worthwhile, right? You get to value what you leave behind more." They weren't looking at you as they spoke, their attention seemingly fixed on the tree's branches. "Like, I wouldn't appreciate the quiet here if I wasn't living in the city."

"Right," you replied, turning away to hide whatever expression might be betraying your thoughts, hoping that would end the conversation. Unfortunately, Qiu wasn't finished.

"Just like being here makes me appreciate Prism Vista all over again, makes me excited to go back," they added quickly, then hesitated. "Sure, it can be lonely sometimes, but it's not all bad."

That made you pause, your hand freezing on a branch. It was the first time they'd admitted to any difficulty. You turned to look at them, really look at them, and noticed the slight tension in their shoulders, the way they were still avoiding your gaze. Hyperfocused on their tree.

"Lonely?" you echoed. The possibility that Qiu felt lonely turned the knife in your chest deeper because that awful part of you had hope that they felt the same way you did. You hated it. You hated yourself.

"Well, you know how it is," they shrugged. "It's easy to be invisible around so many people in a place like that. But, you can reinvent yourself in a way, though." They gave you a small smile, like that would reassure you.

Snow continued falling around you, each flake carrying its own silence. The holiday cheer from other families felt distant now, muffled by the weight of the moment.

"Qiu…" you started, your heart hammering against your ribs, "do you ever sometimes wish things were different? Like things had ended up different for us?" The quiet words came out before you could stop them. Now, they hung in the air like precarious icicles. Threatening to fall and cause damage any second.

"What do you mean?" Qiu's question was tentative, their brows furrowing.

You stared at your boots, watching as snowflakes disappeared into the leather. "Just… I don't know, maybe things could've been different." The veiled words felt both too heavy and too light, carrying years of unspoken thoughts.

Qiu was quiet for a long moment, their breath visible in the cold air. "I mean, sure, for some things," they finally said. "But I don't know; it seems like everything happens for a reason. Like, if I'd never gone to PVU, I wouldn't have met Micah or got to see Baxter again. If you had never come to Golden Grove, we wouldn't be friends, and I definitely don't want that to be different," they laughed.

You knew it wasn't exactly rejecting your unsaid proclamation, but it still paused you. Still hurt.

You tried to smile, to match their lightness. "Right, that would have been terrible." But the words tasted sour, bitter like pine needles on your tongue. Qiu's eyes lingered on you a moment longer before their attention was pulled away.

"Hey! What about this one, huh?" Qiu pointed at the tree they had been circling. Thankful for the distraction from the uncomfortable tightness in your chest, you followed their gaze.

"That could work. It's not too scrawny," you teased, managing a genuine smile when Qiu rolled their eyes. The familiar banter felt like stepping onto solid ground after walking on ice. You considered the tree you'd been absent-mindedly investigating.

You patted its branches affectionately. "I think I'm going with this one." The tree was full but manageable, perfect for your mom's collection of mismatched ornaments that you both had picked out from second-hand shops and discount stores over the years.

"Nice!" Qiu's enthusiasm brightened their face, making your heart skip. They unlooped the sled strap and dropped the saw at the base of their tree. "Let's cut 'em down!" Qiu's enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself laughing along with them. The two of you got into position, kneeling on the ground and readying the saw.

The first few minutes were easy. The saw glided smoothly through the wood. You worked in comfortable silence, falling into the rhythm you'd developed over years of sharing this tradition. The teeth of your saw bit and caught, making it difficult to go halfway through.

"There you guys are! I thought I was going to have to leave you," Tamarack said brightly. You could hear the crunch of pine needs and snow under her boots as her sled came to a stop not too far behind her.

"You left us in the first place!" Qiu's voice was muffled under their tree branches, but their laughter was clear.

"True. I didn't think you'd go so far, though. Need any help?" Tamarack offered, already moving to assist without waiting for an answer. Her presence filled the space with warmth like she always did.

You and Tamarack worked together; the rhythmic push and pull of the saw synced up with your breaths. From behind, you heard Qiu's tree come free, and they released a sigh of relief.

The saw cut through more smoothly now with Tamarack's help, bringing you closer and closer to your prize. The sharp, sweet smell of sap filled your nostrils, and your muscles burned pleasantly, two very welcome distractions from the thoughts swirling in your brain.

When both trees finally lay on the ground, you all stood back to admire your work. The success of the hunt filled you with that particular satisfaction that came from completing something together, even as part of you wondered how many more times you'd get to share this kind of moment.

"Too bad you were last in the race," Tamarack nudged you playfully, "but we got there eventually." Her smile was teasing, and you scoffed, gathering up the rope of your sled.

You and Qiu secured your trees to the sleds, the ropes familiar in your hands from years of practice. The gathering snow made the paths slicker, but your trio moved back toward the lot with practiced ease. The sound of your trees gliding over the fresh powder mixed with Tamarack and Qiu's chatter about evening plans.

"So, I want to start with the special ornaments first this year," Tamarack was saying, already planning the tree decorating party at her house. "And I found this new cookie recipe I want to try—they're supposed to look like little snow globes!"

Another part of the Tamarack Holiday Special. The three of you would decorate the evergreen with Granny's antique heirloom baubles, eat more sweets than you could handle, watch corny Hallmark holiday movies, and have a sleepover.

Despite everything, you were looking forward to it and allowed yourself a genuine smile, thinking about the event ahead. As you neared the entrance, Qiu pulled out their phone, a small smile tugging at their lips as they read the screen.

"Who's that?" you asked curiously.

"Just Micah," Qiu answered, thumbs moving quickly across the screen. "They're checking in about this project we are doing. It's part of this year-long freshmen seminar class we have to do for our major." They slowed their pace to finish typing, the gap between you and them growing. You nodded the word, "Micah," making your eye twitch slightly.

You blinked a few times and swallowed the sudden dryness in your throat. You were not jealous of Micah. That would be ridiculous and incredibly immature.

They were just classmates, sharing the same major, same classes…same daily life that you couldn't be part of anymore…and responding immediately to each other's texts…

"Oh, Micah?" Tamarack's voice brightened with recognition. "I remember you telling us about him. Maybe he can visit during Christmas break, and we can all meet then!" Her suggestion was genuine, full of her characteristic openness to new friends.

Qiu's hesitation was subtle but unmistakable.

"Well, maybe. Micah actually suggested staying on campus over the winter break with our group to iron out some ideas for the project. There's just a lot to do…and I want to make sure it gets done."

The words hit you like how a cold blast of air can steal your breath.

"You're not coming back for the holidays?" you blurted without thinking, your sled coming to a crunching halt.

Qiu glanced at you, a hint of hesitation in their eyes before they pulled their gaze away from you to look at Tamarack, who had also halted. "I haven't decided yet," they explained with a careful plainness. "They're depending on me, and everyone else said they could stay. So…it made sense. I dunno…" they said, trailing off and offering a shrug.

You watched Tamarack's smile fade slightly, her usual brightness dimming like a candle in the wind. She looked between the two of you, reading the tension with the intuition she'd developed over years of being caught between your occasional storms.

"It'll be here when you come back," she offered diplomatically, though her voice carried a note of disappointment. For a moment, the shy, unsure Tamarack Baumman returned.

A flash of annoyance washed over you as your eyes snapped to Qiu. It was one thing for them to make you feel brushed aside, it was another to make Tamarack feel it. Your friend who'd spent most of her life trying to find a place when it was like she had none.

"Right. Sounds like Micah's got you pretty wrapped up," you bit, unable to keep the pointed edge from your voice.

Qiu's eyes narrowed before softening into that maddeningly gentle look they sometimes gave you, like they could see right through your defenses. As soft as the snow falling around you…it upset you now. How could they look look at you in such a way when they were leaving you?

"It's not like that. We're just…working well together."

"Sure," you muttered, picking your pace back up and quickening it. Bitter bile settled in your throat, but you couldn't swallow it back. You passed the rest of your waiting families without stopping, heading straight for the payment shack. Behind you, you could hear Tamarack calling out.

"Woah, wait up!" She met you halfway between the shack and your car. "What's the rush?"

"Just want to get this tied down," you said, not meeting her eyes.

She searched your face with concern before she nodded softly in understanding, not pushing it further. Behind you, you could hear Qiu's footsteps slow, the distance between you stretching.

The rest of the afternoon blurred at the edges, like looking through a frosted window. You went through the motions—securing the tree to the car, drinking hot chocolate that you barely tasted, and adding half-hearted laughter to your mom's jokes. But inside, a numbness was spreading, dulling the edges of everything until you felt disconnected as if watching someone else's life unfold from afar.

Of course, Qiu wouldn't come back. Of course, they'd choose to stay with their brilliant new friends, working on important projects. You desperately wanted to be understanding, but that darker part of your head was insistent.

If they weren't coming home for Christmas, maybe they weren't coming home for spring break. Then, if they weren't coming home for spring break, they may decide to stay for the summer, too.

You couldn't choose which would be worse, that Qiu would never come home or that they would, and you would be strangers.

You wished you could be surprised. But you felt stupid because the last few weeks had shown that you were just a remnant from their past they'd eventually outgrow. Like the trees in the farm that sprouted too tall and strong for their original plot, Qiu had flourished beyond the confines of Golden Grove while you remained rooted in hard soil, too afraid to reach for something more.

The sad, small tree with the spindly bare branches too weak to hold cheerful baubles.

The drive back to the neighborhood felt endless. Sensing the tension, Tamarack filled the space with nervous chatter, but eventually, she even fell silent. Qiu stared out the window, their reflection a blurred silhouette against the darkening sky.

The cheerful Christmas music that filled the car's silence felt mocking now. It was sound coming from another universe entirely, one where everything made sense, people didn't leave, and you weren't slowly disappearing into the static in your head. Your hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly, but the pressure helped ground you in your increasingly foggy reality.

The tension continued as you parked in the cul-de-sac and even through the unloading of the trees. Your mom paused to look at you as you both propped your tree against the porch. Her gaze drifted to Tamarack and Qiu, who were waiting quietly in front of the Baumann's house. She smiled softly at you but didn't mention the expression you must be holding. Even if she knew something was wrong, she knew even better to let you come to her about it rather than push.

The warm light from the front window of Tamarack's house illuminated the darkening neighborhood as you approached and stood with the other two awkwardly.

"So… I'm gonna go get stuff ready if you're still coming in," Tamarack started, her voice careful, like she was talking to a spooked animal. She'd seen you like this before, during those harder years when everything felt too much, and escape seemed like the only option.

"Yeah, you can get started without us for a moment," Qiu answered, their gaze steady on you.

You could feel them trying to read you, just like they used to during those nights when you'd both sneak out before they'd learned to spread their wings and you'd learned to build higher walls. Tamarack's eyes swiveled between the two of you, and with a small smile, she nodded and headed inside.

As she disappeared through the front door, the world around you grew impossibly quiet. The kind of silence that only comes with falling snow. Each flake drifted down like a tiny secret, gathering on Qiu's hair and shoulders. The yellow porch light cast long shadows across the snow, and you watched your breath cloud in the air between you, counting the seconds like heartbeats.

You could hear the muffled sound of Granny talking inside, Christmas music floating faintly through the windows, but it felt like you and Qiu were miles away from it.

Qiu shifted their weight from one foot to the other, their boots making soft impressions in the fresh snow. The nervous gesture was foreign to you. You'd seen Qiu nervous, but different from this.

"Can we talk?" Qiu asked softly, their voice barely carrying through the heavy stillness.

Your mind was already racing ahead, a familiar static building behind your eyes. You recognized this feeling—the way your thoughts started to scatter like startled birds, how your skin felt too tight, and how the world began to take on that distant, dreamy quality that used to signal the beginning of another bad decision.

"About what?" you replied, though you knew exactly what they wanted to discuss. Your voice sounded strange to your ears as if it was coming from somewhere far away. You fixed your gaze on the snow gathering on Tamarack's mailbox, watching it build up crystal by crystal, anything to avoid meeting Qiu's eyes.

"About what's going on with you. You've been distant, and I feel like," Qiu paused, searching for words in the space between snowflakes. "I don't know."

You clenched your jaw, feeling the heat rise up your neck despite the cold. Anger was familiar territory — an old friend that had gotten you into trouble more times than you could count. It started as a spark in your chest, spreading like wildfire through your limbs until your fingers tingled with it.

This was better than the numbness, better than the fog. Anger made you feel solid and real, even as some distant part of you recognized it as a defense mechanism, a wall to hide behind.

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing." The words came out sharp and hot like sparks from a fire. You shoved your hands in your pockets, curling them into fists. The plastic fin of your dolphin keychain practically pierced your palm.

Without really deciding to, you turned toward your house, muttering something about getting clothes for the sleepover. It was a paper-thin excuse, and you both knew it. Your heart was pounding now, blood rushing in your ears, drowning out the peaceful quiet of the falling snow.

You didn't know why you were choosing now to be an asshole and to Qiu of all people, but the pulling ache of anger and subsequent guilt in you was overstimulating now. A feeling that had your skin itching.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Their voice held a note of frustration now, but underneath it was something else - concern maybe, or hurt. You couldn't let yourself think about that too much. Couldn't let yourself soften around the edges when anger was the only thing keeping you upright.

You took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. "Y'know, honestly, it doesn't matter since you're so concerned with not even being around to find out," you stated in a tight voice.

The silence that followed felt like glass about to break. You could see Qiu's reflection in your car window, their face a mixture of surprise and something else that made your chest tighten further, making the anger burn hotter. Did they pity you?

"Is that what you really think? That I'm trying to get away?" They took a step toward you, snow crunching under their boots. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet, making you flinch internally even as you held your ground. You turned and gestured to them casually as if it should be obvious.

"It seems pretty clear to me," you said, feeling the hurt and frustration vibrate through you and bubble under the surface.

Qiu stared at you for a long moment, their brows furrowing. "Y'know, you can act really stupid sometimes."

The words hit like a slap, and the anger that had been simmering beneath your surface exploded into something white-hot and dangerous. It was the kind of anger that used to lead to sneaking out windows, bad decisions in worse company, and nights you still couldn't quite remember.

"Stupid? You think I'm stupid? Qiu Lin, you're the stupid one! Fuck off," you hissed, the static in your head reaching a crescendo. Your vision seemed to tunnel, the edges of the world going soft and dark while the rage remained crystal clear at the center.

You knew you were being unreasonable, that your anger was misplaced, but you couldn't stop it. It felt better than the numbness, better than the fear, better than admitting how much it hurt to watch them outgrow you. Better than accepting your love for them was doomed from the start.

To your surprise, Qiu laughed.

It wasn't cruel or mocking but soft and genuine, cutting through your anger like sunlight through storm clouds. The unexpected response made you falter, the rage momentarily giving way to confusion. The white-hot iron inside you cooling.

"I'm sorry," they said, running a hand over their face. We just haven't fought like this in years, and it just reminded me of how dumb we used to be." Their expression softened. "Is that really how you feel? What you said before, I mean."

The gentleness in their voice made your anger waver, threatening to expose everything you were trying to hide beneath it.

"I—I just miss you, I guess," you managed, your voice smaller than you intended. You stared at the ground, watching snow collect on your boots, unable to meet their eyes.

"You're my best friend," Qiu said simply.

"Am I? Am I just that?" The words escaped before you could stop them, your voice cracking slightly. "Or is the better question, am I even that anymore?" Shit. This was dangerous territory, the kind of vulnerability that made your skin crawl. The static in your head grew louder, urging you to run, to hide, to do anything but stand here, exposed in the snow.

"What? Of course, you are," Qiu's eyes widened with concern. "Please, can we just talk about this?" Something in their tone made you pause—a note of desperation you weren't used to hearing from them. "Why are you shutting me out?" they asked gently, and the softness in their voice felt like sandpaper against your raw nerves.

You swallowed hard, tasting copper. "Because it hurts too much, I think." The vulnerability in your quiet voice was a razor's edge, and you hated how true the words felt.

"You can talk to me. I'm right here," Qiu insisted, taking another step closer.

You scoffed, the sound bitter in your throat. "For now." The fire of your anger was cooling, leaving behind something worse - that hollow feeling you'd been trying to avoid.

"I…" They hesitated, snow gathering on their shoulders and sticking like second thoughts. "I honestly thought going away would help me figure things out," they admitted.

"Figure what out?" you asked, surprise momentarily overriding your defenses.

Qiu looked away, their gaze drifting over the now-dark neighborhood. "Everything. Who I am. What I want."

"And have you?" The question was barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding.

They shook their head. "No. Honestly, if anything, I'm more confused."

You wanted to reach out, touch their hand, bridge the gap between you. But fear held you back, holding you in place like ice blocks attached to your feet.

"Maybe we both are," you whispered loud enough for them to hear.

Qiu turned back to you, their eyes meeting yours and warming.

"Then maybe we can figure it out together."

The silence that followed felt different, charged with potential and unspoken words. But just as you opened your mouth to respond, Qiu's pocket illuminated. Their phone buzz shattered the moment, pulling both of you back to reality.

They pulled their phone out, the blue light casting shadows across their face. "It's Micah. I should…"

"Of course," you said tightly, feeling the walls slam back into place. "Wouldn't want to keep him waiting." The bitterness in your voice surprised even you, but you clung to it like a lifeline.

Qiu sighed, pressing their lips into a thin line. "That isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair," you retorted, the childish response tasting like gross ash in your mouth. The static was back, louder now, drowning out whatever Qiu started to say.

They finally said, "We can talk more later tonight," but the words felt hollow, like promises made to children to keep them quiet.

Something in you snapped, a rubber band pulled too tight. The numbness was creeping back in, but it felt almost welcome this time.

"Actually, I'm kind of busy tonight. So, I think I'll pass," you stated bluntly, turning away from them and reaching for your car door. The keys felt cold in your hand, grounding you in your decision.

"What? Where are you going?" Their voice carried notes of confusion and concern that you could not bring yourself to acknowledge in the moment.

You waved a hand dismissively, not looking back. "Out to see some friends. You know how it is." The jab fell easily from your lips.

"What about Tamarack?" Qiu protested. You ignored them with determination. "Come on, don't do this," they added, though with a growing resignation.

They'd seen this version of you before and knew better than to chase after you when you got like this. It was also not in Qiu's nature to beg someone to stay, to be the one to blatantly request one's presence.

"Fine."

The single word from them carried more weight than it should have, falling into the snow between you like a stone as you threw open your car door and escaped inside.

In your rearview mirror, you watched Qiu turn toward Tamarack's house, their shoulders slightly hunched against the cold. Or maybe against something else. You started the car, the engine's rumble drowning out whatever thoughts tried to surface.

That old restlessness was crawling under your skin now, electric and demanding. You recognized it like an old friend - the same feeling that used to make you climb out your window at 2 AM, that used to make you take whatever was offered at parties just to feel something different, anything different. Your body hummed with it, every nerve ending alive with the promise of escape.

Your brain was already three steps ahead, mapping out the night like you used to - which backroads to take, which parties would still be going, which faces would welcome you back without asking too many questions.

Once around the corner, you pulled over, your hands shaking slightly - not from fear, but from adrenaline. That old electricity was running through your veins now, making everything sharper, more immediate. You remembered this feeling, how it used to make you feel powerful, untouchable. How it used to make you feel anything at all.

The phone in your pocket felt heavy as if it knew what you were about to do. How easy it would be to text those numbers you never deleted but pretended to forget. After all, some part of you whispered, isn't that what everyone expects anyway?

You scrolled through your contacts, muscle memory guiding you to a name you hadn't touched in a year: Jordan. The last message thread was short: "Nah, maybe next time" from you, left on read like so many things in your life. Back then, you'd started trying to be better, to be the kind of person Qiu wouldn't worry about, that Tamarack wanted to be around.

Funny how easily old habits come back.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, and that delicious recklessness made your skin buzz. You could almost taste it - the sharp bite of whatever cheap liquor would be passed around tonight, the burn of borrowed cigarettes, the beautiful numbness that came with letting go.

"Hey, what's going on tonight?"

The response came faster than expected as if they'd been waiting for you to crash and burn again—maybe they had.

"At the usual spot. You pullin' up? It'd be cool to see you."

You knew it was a bad idea. Probably the worst. You knew sending this reply would only lead to trouble. But honestly? Trouble felt like exactly what you needed right now.

"Sure. See you soon."

With finality, you started your engine and pulled away from the curb, putting as much distance between you and Qiu as you could as quickly as possible.

Chapter Text

Your bright headlights cut through the winter darkness, sweeping over the front of your house as you rounded the cul-de-sac to park. The white illuminated the shrouded figures resting on your front porch chairs. Qiu and Tamarack. Your stomach twisted and tangled in tight knots, half in guilt and relief, and it pulled tighter with every passing second.

The neighborhood steeped in silence was interrupted by your car door opening and shutting. Snow had coated everything in a soft quilt of white. It muffled every sound, save for the blood rushing in your ears and the way every footfall sounded like glass shattering in the quiet.

Slowly, you approached the front gate to portray some casualness like you had. You winced as it betrayed your arrival with a piercing squeak.

Tamarack lifted her eyes from the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and offered you a quiet smile with eyes that held a cautious hope. On the other hand, Qiu's gaze had been glued on you since your headlights fell over their face. They both reflected an uneasy tension, stiff shoulders, and faces that carried the weight of exhausted relief and lingering hurt.

You came to a standstill in front of the two, nervously picking at your coat sleeve like you'd once done when you were caught doing something you shouldn't

"I didn't do anything." Your whispered voice sounded too loud in the silent, snowy night. You witnessed both of their shoulders relax, even if their faces were intense with concern that caused your guilt to settle in the base of your throat like a dry pill.

"I—I couldn't…" The words died on your lips, getting caught on that too large a pill; truths that were too hard to swallow.

What you said was true.

As you had weaved through the empty streets of Golden Grove earlier that night, your brain was vibrating with the goal of forgetting, escaping, and avoiding. The familiar gnawing ache of self-destruction had coursed through your veins like a welcome poison, your body remembering the feeling like an old addiction. You knew your destination well. Could drive it blindfolded.

The abandoned lumber mill outside town held hundreds of memories of reckless nights and even poorer decisions in its rotting beams and graffiti-tagged walls. The ground there would greet you like an old friend. You could hear the thumping music as you parked your car at the back of the lot, keeping yourself out of the way.

People gathered outside, smoking, their faces lit by the cherry-red glow of cigarettes. Some faces were familiar, while others were new and younger, but they wore the same expressions of practiced indifference you once perfected. It all blurred together—background noise to the growing hollowness inside you.

You sat motionless in your car, hands still gripping the steering wheel to anchor yourself to reality. The static in your head had grown deafening, but beneath it lurked a weird calmness, like the eye of a storm.

You numbly flipped down your visor to double-check your appearance, wanting to utilize the mirror for practicing your smile and getting your armor in place. As you did, a rectangular piece of paper fluttered down like a helicopter seed onto your lap. You paused when you turned it over.

The glossy strip of pictures showed you, Qiu, and Tamarack crammed into a mall photo booth last May. It had been one of the rare moments where everything felt like it used to—laughing so hard your faces hurt, Tamarack reluctantly joining your "Senior Skip Day" antics. In the last frame, Qiu had stuck out their tongue, Tamarack was mid-laugh, and you… You were smiling so brightly it felt like another person entirely.

Your hands returned to the steering wheel, gripping it tighter, steadying yourself as you observed the scene before you. Nothing about this place had changed over the years you'd been coming here. The same broken windows, the same rust-eaten metal. The same faces that had been there for years. The same people engaging in the same behaviors.

The same people who would likely be doing these same things five years from now. Never growing or changing.

But you had changed.

Sitting there, gripping the steering wheel, watching people stumble and laugh their way inside, you couldn’t help but think:

Was this what you wanted?

Something inside you whispered that you didn’t belong even here anymore. It wasn’t the kind of change that came with a snap of fingers, but a slow, dawning realization.

For a long time, you believed this was to be your fate. Running from so many things that you got caught in thick sludge and began to sink. The only rope that kept your head above the surface was the safety in sameness. If too many things changed, what if you sank lower?

What if your head went under and you were left behind? What if you tried, only to drown because you were no longer capable of pulling yourself out?

Someone stumbled past your car, laughing too loudly. The sound jarred you from your thoughts, making you jump slightly in your seat. Blinking away the wetness in your eyes, you watched the person throw their arm around their companion, stumbling away towards the building.

What did you want?

Why did it feel like your only two options were to hide in obscurity in your bedroom, fading into nothing because you felt like it, or to be here because you felt the same? When had living become this binary choice between isolation and self-destruction?

"When did this all get so hard? Why is this so hard?" you whispered to your steering wheel, your voice cracking under the pressure of questions you avoided for years.

You knew with assurance that it had been when Tamarack and Qiu left. You'd convinced yourself that your loneliness was too heavy to share. To divulge your fears and how you were miserable and didn't know how to not be. And the longer you hid in obscurity, the more your mind told you they wouldn't want to hear at all.

And with that burden and hearing how their lives were without you, the more it solidified, the better it would be to be alone.

You didn't know how to be you, but different. You didn't know how to change without the fear of drowning. You were so scared of drowning that it felt like you forgot how to breathe altogether. You didn't know how to be better anymore, without it feeling like you were lying.

This was all you knew. Ending up on the shore, choking on water in a never-ending cycle of avoidance and sinking. Coming back up for air to descend again. A stubborn pattern that was causing slow decay.

And that made your chest burn hot, tears threatening to fall. Because you had to wonder if this was what you wanted, why did you keep glancing at your phone in the cupholder?

Why were you dreading that there'd be a text from your mom, Tamarack, or Qiu, but also desperately hoping there would be one? Why, after everything, did you still want to tell Qiu how much they meant to you?

Staring blankly, eyes red at the steering wheel, you understood. It wasn't the change that scared you so much as failure.

If you tried and failed, things would be too different to return to how they were. But you were already failing—failing Qiu, failing Tamarack, failing yourself. Staying here, sinking into old habits, wouldn’t save you. It would only solidify the loneliness you were so desperate to escape.

Even if it was a losing battle, even if Qiu still decided to forget Golden Grove and you, along with it, you still wanted to reach for this one thing that mattered when nothing else did anymore. Because they were worth it.

They were worth everything. And a part of you whispered that you were worth it too.

You knew you needed to jump that gap. You had to tell them. To say sorry for how you treated them. They may not listen, but it was this thing that you would reach for. It may be the last chance you get.

You wanted to change. You wanted to try.

With shaky hands, you turned the key in the ignition. The headlights flared to life, slicing through the night, and you pulled away from the lumber mill. You oddly felt like you were leaving a piece of yourself behind as the lumber mill faded in the dark. Like leaving a piece that no longer fit, even if there was an empty space now and you weren't sure how to fill it.

The road back felt longer than it should have. You took the back streets, giving yourself time to breathe, to gather the crumbs of courage before you faced the two people who mattered most.

That brought you here, standing in front of the most important people in your life, who you've hurt time and time again. Qiu rose from their chair, their arms crossed protectively over their chest, before they reached out, their hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. Their gaze had no anger, just a sad understanding that made your guilt even heavier.

"Maybe we should move where we can talk more?" Tamarack suggested in a hushed tone.

Her gaze had drifted up, where you could see the warm light from your mother's bedroom window peeking through her curtains. Qiu and you subtly nodded in agreement and stepped off the porch to find a more private place for the three of you.

Qiu's fort loomed ahead as your boots crunched through the snow. Somehow, in the dim light of the moon, the structure looked even more weathered and tired, not unlike yourself. Despite the storms it had gone through, it was still standing.

The three of you halted at the base, knowing you all wouldn't fit in the space anymore. This would be the scene dressing for your confession. Qiu's backyard sat in delicate silence, the kind that only comes about with the soundproofing of snow.

The wind wisped through the evergreen branches surrounding the yard. Your exhaled breaths produced white clouds in front of you. The moon now hung heavily in the sky, making everything shine.

Tamarack and Qiu waited expectantly, and you let out a shaky breath. With trembling hands clenched at your sides and a rolling stomach, you opened your mouth.

"I'm sorry," you began, the words feeling inadequate. You had no idea where to go from there. You felt sick, and everything else seemed trapped in your throat.

"You don't have to apologize," Qiu said quietly. "We're just worried about you."

The words made you tense. You had no idea what they must think of you — how pathetic and childish you must seem. But you knew you would regret it if you didn't speak your truth now, maybe for the rest of your life.

"I know, but I need to. And you both deserve to know why." You swallowed hard. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears. "I–" you paused, taking a breath. "Things got bad again after you both left," you explained. Tamarack and Qui's shoulders fell with concern.

They understood exactly what you meant.

"And I just…I've been having a really hard time with everything. That shouldn't be an excuse to be mean to you guys, though. You're my best friends, and you just want to help."

The words spilled out, and you stopped yourself before you started rambling. "I guess I just miss you both a ton and didn't want things to change. So I was kind acting like an ass. I'm really sorry…"

Your voice trailed off. It may not be a grade-A apology, but it was what you had to offer to both of them. It was genuine and as vulnerable as you could be right now. Suddenly, Tamarack's arms were hugging you tightly.

"I'm sorry, too!" she exclaimed, tears thick in her voice. Looking over her shoulder, you found Qiu's wide eyes, just as surprised as you felt.

"For what?" you both asked in unison. Tamarack released her grip on you to wipe her tears. The moonlight made her red, glassy eyes glisten like rubies.

"I lied to you both," she muttered, not meeting your gazes. My dad didn't actually have an academic convention. I told Granny that so she wouldn't guilt me into staying in Florida," she sniffled. Your expression softened on her. "I just wanted to come home because I really missed you, too."

The admittance made your eyes water just the same, and you found yourself leaning into give her another hug. Qiu joined the embrace with an amused but tender smile, completing the circle that had been the three of you against the world for so long. After a few moments of quiet comfort, you separated, each taking a step back to right yourselves.

"Can we do my sleepover now and forget about all the drama for now? I'm cold and tired." Tamarack admitted with a watery laugh. It was everything you loved about her — her resiliency (except when faced with the cold) and her ability to move on.

You and Qiu laughed and agreed, grateful for the change in atmosphere. Tamarack promptly turned on her heel and marched onwards, leaving new trail boot prints in the snow.

Suddenly, it was just you and Qiu. The moment you'd been craving and dreading. The wind rustled through the trees as you met each other's eyes. Qiu opened their mouth to say something, but closed it with uncertainty written on their face as their brows furrowed.

"Sorry–" you both said simultaneously.

"No, you don't have to be. You–" you tried to start, needing to spit the words out before you lost your spine.

"No, no, I completely get it. I was–" Qiu interrupted, overlapping your words.

You stepped closer, trying to explain, heart in your throat. "You don't understand, Qiu. I—"

"I do though, I was such an asshole and you–" They were still talking, still trying to take responsibility for something that was never their fault. It was just like them. You clenched your fists in subtle frustration, squeezed your eyes shut, and—

"I love you!"

The words burst from you like confetti in a popped balloon. Heavy silence cloaked before you. One could hear a pin drop in the fresh snow if they listened. The words were thrown down like a weight.

You swallowed, unable to keep the fresh tears from gathering in your eyes. Qiu stood motionless, their breath fogged in the cold air between you, mingling with yours in the space.

"I-I'm in love with you," you reaffirmed in a shaky tone. "I love you, Qiu, and it hurts so much because I know I can't keep you. You're so smart and bright. You're going to be something, and I'm not." You sniffed and forced yourself to meet their gaze, even if your words caught in the admission. The fear that had been your constant companion was finally spoken aloud. The words started to come out steadier, though, like a river flowing. You continued on.

"We'll look back at this moment, at all the moments, and we won't be able to sit in this fort anymore, watch movies till 3am, gaze at the stars together. We both know you're bigger than any of that." You paused, trying to rein in your racing thoughts.

"My stupid, pathetic love for this town, because of you being in it, could never and should never hold you here." Qiu stared at you, not moving to interrupt now. You took the opportunity to continue.

"But I'm…so scared," you murmured with a cracked voice. The more profound truth of it all flowed from your lips.

Not because you didn't want to be honest with Tamarack, but because Qiu of all people needed to hear this. You needed to hear it spoken aloud.

"So scared of the future and if this is all I'll ever be, and even more scared of the reality that I've accepted it. That everyone will have moved on and forgotten. That I don't have dreams, and if I did, I'm not even sure I have the strength to go after them."

Qiu's image blurred in your vision as stubborn tears grew in your eyes for the third time that night.

"But…what scares me the most is that one day, I'll look up into the night sky, and it'll mean nothing to me, because the one person who made it mean something, any of this, isn't around," you sniffed, wiping your nose with a bitter laugh at yourself.

"The worst of all is that it's all been my doing. My stupid nonchalance and indifference. My naïve expectation that the world will wait for me." You took a shuddering breath, trying not to think about what came next and to just run head-on into it. "So…if I'm to move on even a centimeter…I have to start here."

Qiu's expression was hard to read, but they gave you a nod of encouragement. Your hands balled at your sides to stop them from trembling. You stood on a thinning line of your current life and everything after. It was time to jump.

"Qiu, I love you. I've loved you forever. I'll likely love you forever." The words began to fall like an avalanche that had been long overdue.

"When you leave and go back to Baxter and all your new friends and new life, I will still love you. When you are so happy being there and you don't even think about me, I will still love you. And ten years from now, when you are telling a co-worker about an old friend you haven't talked to in a decade, I will still love you," your voice broke, unable to hide it now. You squeezed your eyes shut as if to shield yourself.

"I love you…I love you."

Your throat clenched as you repeated those three damning words like mantra. The backyard was silent. You cracked open an eye to find Qiu staring at you with a tender surprise.

"Do you… Do you really think I'm that happy? That I'm happier without you?" Qiu's voice was soft, as if they were making their own confession.

"I'm miserable."

They let out a sad laugh, like that was a joke. "You know that saying, 'The grass is always greener on the other side'? That's what it's been like. I was always chasing that, thinking I'd find what I was looking for if I just was able to get out of Golden Grove."

Qiu paused, and their face became serious, revealing rare uncertainty. "Go somewhere completely different, where no one knew who I was and I could be anyone I want." Qiu looked away, their jaw clenching. "But I got down there and got exactly what I wanted. No one knew who I was, and I ended up falling back into how I used to be — Trying to be what everyone else wanted, just so I wouldn't feel alone."

They fell silent, as if embarrassed by this confession. The realization that Qiu was struggling just as much as you were seemed impossible, yet the truth was written in how they looked at you with such exhaustion that they were trying to hide.

"Then, I'd talk with you and Tamarack on FaceTime and feel more like myself than I did in days. But when the call ended, all that stuff would come back into sharp focus, and I'd just be left feeling alone. I'd end up just thinking about you and home for hours." They looked sheepish, as if revealing this was admitting a great weakness.

"So, I dug my heels in, told myself I was being a baby. That's why I was always so busy…Why I agreed to stay during Christmas break, because they needed me, and I didn't know how to say no again."
Qiu closed their eyes with a grimace in self-recrimination.

They'd never spoken so openly about their own feelings in front of you, and you could tell it was just as difficult for them to talk as it was for you. It struck you then that maybe you weren't the only one hiding behind a carefully constructed façade this whole time.

"I know I've been an awful friend." They shrugged, not meeting your gaze. "But part of me figured you were busy with your own stuff and the other part…" they hesitated.

"The other part knew if I hung onto you like that, I would have been on the first flight back home last month for fall break and wouldn't have gone back."

Your eyebrows rose at their words. Your breath caught like the wind around you seemed to have. The small flare of hope lit in your chest needed to be tamped down, lest it burn rampant.

"But?" You asked tentatively.

The air stilled between you two. Qiu looked at you, and suddenly they were moving towards you, their footsteps in the snow purposeful, determined, and so very. And then, in a split second, they had crossed that distance, that gap, their eyes searching yours, their breath mixing with yours in the cold winter air.

Your heart was racing, your mind was screaming for you to move, run, or do something, but you were frozen. Qiu's hand grabbed yours, their touch gentle and grounding.

"But…" they sighed. "What I really want to do, I can't do here." Qiu's face grew determined. "I can't stay here in Golden Grove. I have to do this, and that's going to be hard, but I'd rather do this and know that maybe…," they trailed off again. Qiu lifted their free hand to brush away a tear sliding down your cheek. The touch sent a shiver through you.

"Maybe what?" You asked in a shaky breath.

"Maybe…maybe you can be by my side…even if we're a part. Maybe I can have one of the only things that made me love Golden Grove…"

They gave a self-deprecating laugh, showing a more vulnerable Qiu you were familiar with. "I'm not very good at this. I've never been as great with my words as you have…not for this kind of stuff." Qiu said quietly, dipping their head and shaking it. After a moment, they raised their eyes back to yours, warm as melted chocolate.

"Do you remember when we sat one night and tried to count all the stars?" Qiu suddenly asked. The change of subject made you pause.

"Yeah," you answered quietly. "I said that for every ten we counted, we got a universe point that we could use for something to go right. You said it was dumb," you gave a short smile. Qiu chuckled in response to the memory.

"Yeah…well...I lied," they admitted. You couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess we're all a bunch of liars," you jested. Qiu nodded with their own laugh, brushing a thumb over your knuckle. Only then did you realize you were still holding hands.

"I count them all the time now…I've always counted them," they shrugged, trying to appear casual, but failed miserably.

Qiu took a deep breath before speaking. "I don't know how many points I have now, but when I was younger, I wanted to use them on us always being together. Then, I decided I'd want my 'universe luck points' to be used so that you liked me as much as I had liked you."

They spoke the words with a heavy, weighted tone, but their eyes shone. You could feel your heart stop, thoughts stuttering. You both had been young when you made up the game.

Something to do at night outside or on car rides when bored. You never knew Qiu took it so seriously.

"It was kind of stupid. I hadn't done anything for you to like me or for you to stay my friend. Being able to count wouldn't help…but still, I kept counting as the years went by and…" they trailed once more off before speaking again. "As I got older and we were with each other through everything, I changed how I wanted to cash in on my points."

A soft chuckle escaped them, self-conscious but genuine. "I hoped that changing the wording wouldn't break some universal law, and then it would never happen."

Qiu's hand squeezed yours like that contact gave them the confidence they needed.

"But I started counting, hoping you loved me as much as I loved you. Love me as much as I love you." You couldn't breathe, the world spun as the words settled. Their eyes were so warm, so sincere to you.

Qiu Lin loved you back.

They took another shaky breath before continuing, "I couldn't tell you, though, because at a certain point, I knew I was leaving, that I had to, and I knew you loved Golden Grove more than anything. I'd never be so selfish to ask or so arrogant to assume you would follow me."

Qiu's words were rushed and earnest, tumbling from their lips in a very Qiu-like way. They spoke as if they were afraid that if they stopped, they would never get the chance to say these things again, just like you.

Your heart was in your throat, your eyes wide and hopeful. You wanted to speak and say something, but the words wouldn't come. All you could do was listen and hope that Qiu understood.

"Then, I was gone. I was with Baxter. Everything was a whirlwind. I met Micah and the rest, and they were great. At first, honestly, it felt good to be somewhere where no one knew who I was." Qiu's brow furrowed, their gaze dropping momentarily to the snow between you.

"But then on those lonely nights, I would look up at the same night sky that I knew you probably were, but I couldn't see any of the stars. I never wanted to sit and count more stars in my entire life, and I couldn't anymore. So…" They squeezed your hand.

"I hope I have enough universal points now, because I know it'll cost a lot." They laughed softly. Qiu was then finally quiet, their words exhausted.

The two of you just stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. Your mouth opened and closed multiple times, trying to find the right response.

"So…what now?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. The question held your uncertainty. All your hope you could muster.

Qiu's gaze softened. "I–I don't know…I guess we figure out what we want, what we really, really want," they said gently.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at their words, at the absurdity of this moment. Here you were, standing in the snow, under the same moon that had shone down on you all those years ago when you began counting stars, and somehow, impossibly, your deepest wish had come true.

"God, we're dumb, aren't we?" you said, shaking your head. "Here I thought I was losing my best friend and the person I love most."

"You're not the only one," Qiu admitted. They squeezed your hand in theirs, their warmth seeping into your skin.

"I thought I had too, and I think I would have if you didn't come here and tell me how you felt." They gave you a soft smile. "You're always braver than me in that regard, y'know." Qiu's eyes danced with amusement, with a fondness that made your heart skip a beat.

"I don't feel very brave," you admitted. The world around you was silent, as if giving you this moment of perfect understanding.

Qiu pulled you into a hug, wrapping their arms around you and holding you close like they had done so many times before, but now held a new significance. You breathed in their scent, the warmth of their body enveloping you.

This felt right, you thought as your body relaxed into the embrace. You didn't want to let go, you didn't want to lose this feeling ever.

"You're so much braver than you think," They murmured before pulling back to look at you. "I don't know what happens now. I don't know what's next, and I don't think any choices should be made tonight. But I know I want to figure it out with you."

They leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering momentarily before pulling away. The world around you remained quiet, continuing as if you both weren't just changed in the best way. Funny how that works.

"I know that I'm in love with you, and I have been since before I could really understand what that meant," Qiu whispered, their eyes locked onto yours, full of a deep and true love. "As long as we have that, we can figure out the rest, yeah?"

You nodded, unable to speak past the emotion tightening your throat. They released you with apparent reluctance, stepping back with a soft smile.

"We should probably get back to Tamarack before she comes looking for us."

"Yeah," you agreed, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

The weight of everything that had happened in the past few hours settled heavily on your shoulders, but you felt lighter than you had in months, years even. A weight that hadn't crushed you, but had released you, in a sense.

You and Qiu turned back towards the Tamarack's house, walking side by side, your steps in the snow in sync. You could see the warm lighting illuminating from her home, knowing she was waiting for the two of you. For some reason, it filled you with a complete contentedness.

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't dramatic declarations of following each other to the ends of the earth. Of never, ever being a part. No Hollywood clichés of grand gestures and swelling music.

You hadn't needed any of that. Not really. You just wanted your best friend beside you, however they could be. To know you loved them and that they loved you. It was far more valuable than any romantic fantasy.

You would figure it out, everything. You would count the stars and fight for a future you wanted. Moving forward, despite the fear of failure, as long as you were trying and had your people who made trying worth it. It wouldn't be easy or quick, but it would be worth it.

As you glanced at Qiu, whose eyes met yours with pinkened cheeks, you knew it was enough.

It was more than enough.

Epilogue: Four Months Later

The warm air that greeted you was stark as you stepped out of the Prism Vista International Airport. Your jacket already felt too heavy under the California spring sun.

It was still winter when you'd left Golden Grove, but in the 'everything is brown, dead, muddy, and waiting for spring' way. The hustle and bustle of arriving and departing travelers and the chaotic symphony of car horns made you feel suddenly out of place.

But then you heard your name called over the crowd of moving people. You squinted, shielding your eyes from the sun to see Qiu waving their arm to make themselves known. Their face broke into that smile that still made your heart flutter. Seeing them made you feel silly for being so emotional over a simple change of scenery.

As you crossed the lanes, weaving between idling cars, the nervousness building during your flight disappeared. Qiu greeted you with a hug, and you returned with equal fervor, breathing in their familiar scent and letting out a sigh of contentment.

The two of you had started dating after your confessions, which was surprising to exactly no one. Still in that new relationship, figuring it out kind of way. The progression of your romantic relationship slowed slightly due to the long distance.

That's what made this spring break trip so special. You were coming to see their world for the first time, leaving the confines and safety of Golden Grove.

As the two of you separated, you finally noticed the man who'd been standing next to Qiu. He was tall, wearing a tailored purple suit jacket and dark hair, and his face was vaguely familiar despite the years that had passed.

"Long time no see," they nodded, using a smooth voice that sounded like a dog whistle, though it was deeper now.

"Woah! Baxter?" You exclaimed in surprise. He gave a casual smile that had you smiling back.

"In the flesh." He confirmed with a smirk, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Qiu mentioned they needed assistance picking up a friend today, and I was more than happy to oblige them. I'm glad I did."

His eyes held a glint that made you wonder how much Qiu had been telling the former Boy's Club co-member about you. Your eyes bounced between the two, your smile growing wider.

"I'm glad you did too," you replied sincerely.

The rest of the day was a blur as Baxter chauffeured the two of you to Qiu's dorm, which they shared with three other students. Tomorrow, Tamarack would be joining you, but for now, you had time to settle in with your partner.

Meeting Micah had been nerve-wracking, but afterwards, you could see why Qiu had grown fast friends with them. Their kindness and comradery was infectious. Hard to dislike someone who was just so likable and you were thankful that Qiu had someone in Prism Vista they could depend on.

The ragtag group of friends dragged you all over Prism Vista, showing you the campus and city highlights and their favorite food spots. The city was very different than Golden Grove. It was louder, more vibrant, and filled with a diversity of people and experiences that made your hometown seem even smaller in comparison.

However, rather than feeling intimidated, you found yourself curious and interested in the world Qiu wanted to introduce you to.

By evening, the group had brought you to the beach. The sun was just beginning to set over the far-off horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. While the others were hanging out, looking for shells, you found a quiet spot to sit in the sand.

Digging your toes into cool grains, you let the setting sun warm your face. With your eyes closed, you focused on the sensations around you – the gentle crash of waves, the distant calls of seagulls, Qiu's friends laughing down the shoreline, and the salty air filling your lungs.

Even with eyes closed, you still knew it was Qiu as they sat beside you.

"Doing your mindful practice?" Qiu asked, breaking pleasantly through the meditation. Your eyes opened slowly, and you leaned your head on their shoulder.

"Yeah, my goal is to do it once a day while I'm here," you explained with a relaxed hum.

"I'm happy you're clicking with this therapist more than the last," they commented, their tone free of judgment.

"Yeah, me too," You agreed contentedly. You shut your eyes again, letting the feeling of the setting sun on your skin and the sand beneath your feet ground you. You listened to the waves lapping against the shore, the seagulls calling in the distance.

The last four months have surprised you. Finding the right therapist took time, with two false starts before landing on someone who truly understood your struggles. Qiu had been undertaking their own therapeutic journey as well. Together, you worked to understand yourselves better, communicate more openly, and stop hiding behind the masks you'd worn for so long.

It had not been pretty in some instances, and the road was far from done being traversed. There had been difficult conversations, moments of backsliding into old patterns, times when the distance between you felt insurmountable.

Qiu had stayed at Prism Vista for Christmas break, though they'd come home for Christmas Eve and Day, a compromise that had felt like progress for both of you. They were learning to say no and prioritize their needs rather than constantly bending to please others.

You were learning to reach out when the darkness crept in, to take small steps toward a future rather than remaining paralyzed by fear of failure. Now the idea of a future where you weren't hiding behind the safety net of being nonchalant and aloof, and where Qiu didn't feel the need to bend backwards for everyone, wasn't so daunting.

You'd even begun taking a few classes in person this semester, a choice that had allowed you to start making tentative friendships. Small steps, but significant nonetheless. You didn't feel so alone for the first time in a long time.

"I missed you," Qiu's voice broke the silence, their tone gentle and nostalgic.

"Missed you more," you admitted readily with a hum. "Long distance isn't so bad but…okay it really sucks, but at least we get to do stuff like this." You lifted your head from their shoulder to meet their gaze.

The waves lapped at the sand, and the warm air held the promise of summer. Golden hour had cast everything in a warm glow, including Qiu, their eyes sparkling affectionately.

"Yeah," Qiu agreed, their voice wistful.

Their hand reached down and tentatively grasped yours. The weight of it was familiar now and always comforting. You smiled softly, squeezing theirs in response. "I can't believe you and Tam are going to be here all week," they added.

"Right? Mom practically shoved me out the door this morning," you laughed, recalling the memory. "I'm pretty sure she's excited to have the house to herself for a little bit." Qiu chuckled along with you.

Your mom had been more than supportive of your decision to visit.
In fact, she'd been your biggest cheerleader, helping you with the logistics and even offering to drive you to the airport. You'd been surprised by her enthusiasm, but grateful nonetheless.

It was a far cry from how things had been before and showed you how relationships could be repaired. The ocean breeze rustled through your hair as you both watched a surfer ride a wave off in the distance.

It felt surreal to you, like a movie scene. The colors were vibrant, the sun reflecting off the water like glitter under a spotlight. You felt Qiu's gaze on you, and your traitorous cheeks blushed.

"What?" you asked, feeling a little self-conscious. They shook their head, a soft smile pulling at the corners of their lips.

"Just happy you're here. And…really proud of you." You felt a swell of emotion in your chest, a mixture of happiness and pride.

Some days were still hard, but you reminded yourself that you had something and someone to fight for. When you messed up, you knew you'd be back on track in no time with the support of Qiu and Tamarack, but especially Qiu.

This person, this wonderful, amazing person who had stuck by you through it all, who loved you. It was almost dizzying. Sometimes you felt so much love for them and couldn't quite understand why you were so lucky.

Someone from behind shouted, pulling you out of your thoughts. Qiu's eyes were still on you, the warmth in their brown irises making your stomach flutter. Their cheeks held the slightest of dustings of a rosy tint.

At that moment, you knew that you wanted Qiu Lin beside you, no matter where you went or how your life looked in 20 or 50 years. The last sun's rays had sunk beneath the horizon, casting everything in a dusky pink glow. The sky was painted in vibrant pinks, purples, and blues, a breathtaking backdrop to the moment.

"Can I kiss you?" Qiu's words sent a shiver down your spine. This was still new and rare.

The two of you shared your first kiss under a snowy sky and a lam post outside their home on the night of Christmas. You were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up. However, seeing how red Qiu's face was gave you reassurance that they were feeling just the same then.

Now under a sun-kissed sky, you nodded, unable to suppress your smile. Qiu leaned in, their lips pressing against yours, gentle and tentative. It sent a spark of electricity through your body. You couldn't help but smile against their mouth, happiness impossible to contain.

You'd missed them, but to be here now, in California, under a watercolor sky— it felt right in a way you hadn't thought possible.

A teasing whistle and a chorus of "ooohs" erupted from behind you, causing you both to jump apart. Micah and Qiu's other friends stood watching the scene unfold, a few recording the moment.

"I'm gonna kill them," Qiu muttered under their breath, but the smirk told you they didn't mean it. Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't stop smiling, your joy too big to be ruined by a little embarrassment.

"Get a room! Not the public beach," a joking voice you knew to be Micah's voice rang out over the beach.

"You guys suck." You called out. It didn't have much bite to it.

"We'll be at the car waiting," another called out before their head of dark red disappeared from view down the beach path leading to the parking lot.

You sighed, knowing you needed to join, but not before stealing one more quick kiss from Qiu.

"Okay, we should go now," you said reluctantly.

"Yeah, let's head over to them," Qiu agreed, though their lingering gaze suggested they wanted to do anything but.

With a final glance at the breathtaking sunset and a warm smile, you both rose to your feet. You reached down to scoop a handful of sand. The grains fell between your fingers, and you watched, mesmerized as they fell back to the beach. It was another memory to tuck away and cherish, even though it was over.

Qiu stood at the top of the slope to the path, hand extended to you, their face relaxed and gazing at you fondly. You took their hand, squeezing tightly, not caring if your palm was sweaty, or maybe it was Qiu's. It was impossible to know.

Things still weren't perfect. Nothing ever is. You were all a bunch of dummies still, trying your best. Tamarack still worried too much, Qiu was too giving, and you were still stubbornly avoidant sometimes, but you'd learned so much in the months since that snowy night.

Grown in ways you hadn't thought possible in the short time.
There would be hard days, mistakes, miscommunications, and things would not work out how you had wanted.

Still, in that moment, with the sunset painting a portrait and the sand between your toes, it didn't matter. What mattered was that you would work it out. You would try, and you would work with the rolling waves as best as you could.

And with people like Qiu in your life — people who saw you at your worst and still chose to love you and created spaces where you could always come home to yourself — you knew you could do it. You could face whatever came next.

Counting stars and collecting universe points along the way.