Time didn't really start until high school. Or at least, that's how Rae would remember it. She didn't expect much. Just to get through it. Classes, grades, silence. Repeat.
Rae never truly liked high school, deep down, it felt more like a quiet goodbye than a new beginning. She had to leave behind the friends who once made her world feel full, and now, she walks the halls alone. Making friends was never her strong suit; small talk felt like a language she couldn't quite learn. So instead, she found comfort in solitude, where the silence didn't ask her to be anything she wasn't.
But Rae had always carried a dream close to her heart. She had loved art for as long as she could remember, it was the one thing that made her feel seen. More than anything, she wanted to be part of an art project at school, to have a role that mattered, something she could pour herself into. And it was there, in the quiet orbit of that dream, that she met Silas Langley.
Silas Langley, or simply Silas, as Rae often called her, was the first friend Rae made in high school. They met through the very art project Rae had dreamed of joining, and by some stroke of fate, they were paired as partners. Though they weren't in the same class, something about their shared passion for art drew them together. They'd often meet during project discussions, sitting side by side, their ideas slowly unfolding like sketches on a blank page.
They were, in many ways, uncannily alike. A fun fact that came up one afternoon, almost too casually, was that they shared the same MBTI, INTP. And then Silas said something that should've made Rae smile, she liked the same artist Rae had adored for years. The very one Rae thought no one else around her even knew. Rae should've felt seen. Understood. But instead, something twisted quietly in her chest. She hated it.
Rae didn't hate it because they were similar. No, it wasn't about the shared MBTI or the mutual love for that obscure artist. It was the reality of working with Silas that made it all so exhausting.
For two people who were supposedly alike, they disagreed on almost everything. Every idea turned into a quiet standoff. Concepts clashed. Even something as simple as choosing a color spiraled into drawn-out debates that drained Rae to the bone. It was like trying to paint with someone who held the same brush but pulled in the opposite direction. So no, Rae didn't feel seen. She felt tired.
Silas:"I'm just saying, if we go with muted tones, the message gets lost. It needs something bolder."
Rae:(without looking up)"And I'm saying bold isn't always better. We're not designing a poster for a protest."
Silas:"Then what are we designing, Rae? Because right now it looks like we're not designing anything."
Rae:(short pause, calm but distant)"Whatever it is, we won't get there if you keep dismissing every idea I bring."
Silas:"I'm not dismissing. I'm disagreeing. There's a difference."
Rae:(finally looks up, voice quieter)"Feels the same on my end."
Despite everything, Rae couldn't just walk away. The project was ongoing, and more discussions were inevitable, meetings that kept pulling her back into Silas's orbit, whether she liked it or not. So she stayed. She showed up. But something in her had shifted.
She no longer leaned in when they talked. She sat a little farther away, answered only when necessary, and made sure the space between them stayed intact. Rae knew it was personal. And she knew personal things had no place in a project that demanded collaboration.
And it didn't stop at the art project. No, life had other cruel jokes lined up. As fate would have it, Rae and Silas also ended up in the same camping group for school, and that alone nearly pushed Rae to the edge of frustration. Camping was supposed to be Rae's escape, something different, something simple. But now, even the woods wouldn't offer her a break.
Rae's only real comfort in all this was Kate, her closest friend, the one person who made the noise of everything else seem a little quieter. But what Rae didn't know, what she hadn't noticed, was that Kate and Silas had somehow grown close, too. Close enough to hang out. Close enough to blur the lines Rae had tried so hard to draw.
One afternoon, Kate asked Rae to grab something to eat after school. Rae agreed, thinking it would be just the two of them, a chance to breathe.
Rae:(hesitates, blinking)"Oh. You didn't say… Silas would be here."
Kate:(grinning, oblivious)"Yeah! We bumped into each other earlier and I figured—why not? You guys are working together anyway, right?"
Rae:(forcing a tight smile)"Right. Of course."
She swallowed the sigh pressing against her chest. Her gaze flicked toward Silas, who gave her a small nod, neutral, unreadable. Rae wanted to turn around. Wanted to say she forgot she had homework. But instead, she said nothing and followed them inside.
She was quiet during the meal, half-listening, half-enduring. She laughed once or twice at something Kate said, but her eyes never really lit up. And when Silas spoke, Rae's replies came late, careful, calculated, as if every word was being weighed before spoken. No one asked why she barely touched her food.
_
Before the meet-up, Kate had already sensed the growing tension between Rae and Silas. She wasn't clueless, she had seen the way Rae's energy shifted whenever Silas was around, how her enthusiasm dimmed during project meetings, how her responses became clipped and careful.
Kate:(swinging her feet lightly)"You look like you haven't slept in days."
Rae:(leaning back, groaning softly)"Because I haven't. Working with Silas is... draining."
Kate:"Still? I thought you guys were finally getting somewhere."
Rae:(shakes head)"No. It's like—every single thing turns into a debate. Color palettes, brush strokes, the angle of the damn lighting. Like we're trying to make two different projects with one set of hands."
Kate:(frowning)"She doesn't mean to make things hard, Rae."
Rae:"I know. I know. That's the annoying part. She's smart. She's good. She gets it, sometimes more than I do. But it just... never clicks. It's exhausting, and I hate that I'm starting to dread every meeting."
Kate:"Have you told her?"
Rae:(glancing away)"No. I don't want to make it worse. Besides, it's my issue. Not hers."
Kate:(softly)"It's not just yours if it's making you this miserable."
Rae:"I just wish we could at least agree on something. Like—she even said she liked my favorite artist the other day. I should've been happy, right? But I wasn't. I was just... annoyed. Isn't that stupid?"
Kate:(watching Rae for a moment, then smiles gently)"No. I think it just means you've got too much bottled up. Maybe you need a better setting than the art room to unbottle it."
So Kate made a quiet plan of her own. If they weren't going to fix things on their own, maybe a little gentle push would help. She didn't tell Rae, of course, not directly. But when she bumped into Silas after class, the idea clicked into place.
_
Kate:(cheerfully)"So I've been thinking… maybe we should redo the background for the project? Like something more abstract? Less literal?"
Rae:(shrugs without looking up)"Sure. Whatever."
Silas:(softly)"I actually agree with that."
Rae:(glances up, surprised, then quickly looks away)"Oh."
Kate:(smiling, glancing between them)"See? You do agree on something."
Silas:(half-laughs under her breath)"Guess miracles do happen."
Rae:(sighs, then sets down her fork)"Okay… fine. Look. I know I've been... difficult. Maybe more than I needed to be."
Silas:(carefully)"You weren't the only one. I get stubborn when I care about things. I guess I didn't realize how much I was steamrolling over your ideas."
Rae:(finally meeting her eyes)"It just felt like we were pulling in different directions."
Silas:"Maybe. But we're still holding the same brush."
A pause. Not awkward—just quiet, like the moment before two people decide which way the story will go.
Kate:(gently, smiling)"Maybe you two should stop talking like enemies in an art documentary and shake hands already."
Rae:(cracks a small laugh)"Fine."
Silas:(offering her hand, a wry smile)"Truce?"
Rae:(takes it, firm but warm)"Truce."
They shake hands. And it's small, maybe even silly—but it feels like the first real step forward.
From that moment on, things between Rae and Silas began to mend—slowly, cautiously, like brushing over a canvas that had once been too messy to fix. The handshake wasn't magic, and it didn't erase the tension overnight, but it planted something new between them: a mutual effort.
Rae still struggled with it. A part of her held back, unsure if she could fully trust the peace between them. Every now and then, Silas would suggest an idea Rae didn't like, and Rae would feel that old frustration rising. But instead of snapping or retreating, she paused. She tried. She reminded herself: this isn't about winning, it's about building something together.
At their next art meeting, something felt different. The silence between them wasn't cold anymore—it was thoughtful. Comfortable, even. They asked each other questions, gave space to disagree, and when Silas adjusted Rae's sketch without asking, Rae didn't flinch. She just raised an eyebrow and said, "Warn me next time." And Silas grinned, replying, "Deal."
Rae still didn't know if they'd ever truly click the way people in perfect creative duos did. But maybe that was okay. Maybe it was enough that they were learning how to work with each other instead of against.
And for the first time in a while, Rae didn't dread the next meeting. She was... curious.