While cleaning her desk that afternoon, Erica stumbled upon something she hadn't seen in a long time — an old, folded letter buried beneath a pile of unused notebooks and faded stickers. The paper had yellowed slightly at the edges, and her name, written in her own handwriting, stared up at her like a ghost.
She picked it up slowly.
It was addressed to Nicole.
Her chest tightened — not painfully, but with the soft kind of ache that comes when you remember something that no longer hurts the way it used to.
She hesitated.
A part of her wanted to tuck it away again, pretend she hadn't seen it.
But something in her — a quieter, braver part — urged her to open it.
So she did.
The words inside were shaky, written with tears in the margins and ink smudges where she must've wiped her eyes. It spoke of longing, heartbreak, of being lost and not knowing how to move on. Of feeling like everything had ended the moment Nicole let go of her hand.
As she read, a strange thought entered her mind.
These words... they don't feel like mine anymore.
It was like reading a diary from someone else's life — a stranger's pain echoing faintly through time.
She folded the letter carefully, almost lovingly, and smiled.
That version of Erica — the one who had cried herself to sleep, who had loved recklessly and shattered quietly — she deserved to be remembered. But she didn't need to hold onto her anymore.
Because the Erica standing here now?
She was whole.
She was healing.
She was happy.
And more than anything… she was looking forward.
—
The school festival was coming, and for once, Erica wasn't dreading the crowd, the noise, or the awkward chaos of pretending everything was fine.
Because this time, it really was.
And she had a date.
With Angel.
Just the two of them.
She spent hours trying to decide what to wear, texting Steph, Audrey, and even Risha for outfit opinions.
"Go with the denim jacket!" Steph had texted. "It's casual but flirty."
"Girl, wear whatever makes you feel like main character energy," Audrey replied.
Angel, of course, showed up in her usual laid-back, annoyingly attractive style — ripped black jeans, a white shirt she'd rolled the sleeves up on, and a silver chain Erica might have stared at a little too long.
"You look cute," Angel said when they met at the front gates of the school.
Erica flushed. "Shut up."
Angel grinned. "Okay, babe."
"Hey, don't call me babe. I'm not your girlfriend."
Angel tilted her head, feigning confusion. "What did you just say, babe? I can't hear you."
Erica groaned. "Whatever."
The campus buzzed with energy. Students ran between booths, music echoed from the stage, and the smell of street food lingered in the air like nostalgia. Fairy lights were strung from tree to tree, casting everything in a soft, golden glow.
Angel dragged Erica toward a carnival-style game booth, where prizes dangled from hooks and plastic darts clattered against bottles.
"If I win," Angel said, eyes mischievous, "you owe me a kiss."
Erica raised an eyebrow. "And if I win?"
Angel stepped close, voice low. "Then… you owe me a kiss."
"That's not how bets work!"
"I make the rules, babe."
Erica rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips.
They played. Angel missed every single throw.
"Wow," Erica deadpanned. "Tragic."
Angel shrugged. "Guess I'll have to collect that kiss some other way."
"You wish."
Across the festival, the rest of their group was scattered in different corners of chaos.
Nicole and Cloud were locked in fierce concentration at a claw machine, trying to win a giant stuffed bear. Nicole cursed when the machine dropped it again, while Cloud pumped his fists dramatically and shouted, "It's rigged!"
Kim and Rhea Lee strolled past them, hand in hand, sharing pink cotton candy and giggling like kids.
Risha stood proudly next to a blushing Mary, holding an absurdly large stuffed rabbit she'd somehow managed to win.
Audrey and Aedrian were bickering — again — over which food stall had the best fried dumplings. Their argument drew a small crowd of amused onlookers who were clearly enjoying the free show.
Somewhere near the haunted house attraction, Vinish and Steph could be heard screaming — Steph's voice especially dramatic.
"They better not jump out again! I swear I'll throw hands!" Vinish cried from inside.
It was chaotic.
It was loud.
It was perfect.
—
Later that night, the entire group gathered on the rooftop — their favorite spot, the place where too many memories were made and remade.
The city lights twinkled beneath them, and above, the stars looked close enough to touch.
They sat in a circle, passing around snacks and soda bottles, their laughter blending together in the cool evening breeze.
For once, there was no drama.
No heartbreak.
Just them.
"We should make a promise," Risha said, holding up her pinky.
Erica looked at her. "A promise?"
"That no matter what happens, we stick together."
Nicole raised an eyebrow. "Forever?"
"Forever," Cloud confirmed, hooking his pinky with Risha's.
One by one, the rest of them joined in — Nicole, Mary, Audrey, Aedrian, Kim, Rhealy, Steph, Vinish, Angel… and finally, Erica.
Their pinkies linked in the starlight, a quiet but powerful symbol.
None of them knew what the future held.
Graduation was looming just around the corner. Colleges had sent their acceptance letters. Some would leave the city. Some would stay. Some still had no idea what they wanted next.
But for tonight?
Tonight was theirs.
And that was enough.
—
The next few weeks passed in a blur of deadlines, last-minute projects, and emotional goodbyes.
Caps and gowns were ordered. Yearbooks were scribbled with messy signatures and inside jokes. Photos were taken — blurry, chaotic, full of joy.
The end was coming.
But it didn't feel like a loss.
It felt like a beginning.
—
On their last weekend together before most of them would start packing for college, they met one last time at their favorite coffee shop. The one with the mismatched couches and terrible indie music and the barista who always spelled their names wrong.
Cloud was mid-sentence, telling a ridiculous story about how he accidentally walked into the girl's bathroom during orientation week, when someone snorted soda out of their nose.
"Dude, you're a walking sitcom," Aedrian wheezed, slapping his knee.
The room shook with laughter.
And Erica… Erica sat there, taking it all in.
Nicole whispered something to Cloud that made him grin.
Risha leaned into Mary's shoulder, smiling softly.
Kim and Rhealy sat close, their hands intertwined on the table.
Audrey threw a fry at Aedrian. He threw a napkin back.
Vinish and Steph shared a plate of fries, casually arguing over music.
And across the table, Angel reached out and gently took Erica's hand — not demanding, not rushing — just holding it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Erica turned to her.
Angel leaned in, kissed the back of her hand, and whispered, "Still not your girlfriend?"
Erica smirked, her cheeks pink. "Maybe I'm reconsidering."
They both laughed.
And for a moment, the world faded away.
Because love wasn't just about kisses and confessions and late-night heartbreaks.
It was this.
Laughter in a crowded booth.
Friends who had been through hell and come out stronger.
Memories that would last long after they went their separate ways.
Erica leaned back in her seat, her heart full.
They had lost each other once.
Broken apart by fear, jealousy, change.
But somehow, against the odds, they had found their way back.
And this time?
They weren't letting go.