HAPPY FRIENDSHIP ANNIVERSARY

 Echoes Through the Door

The hallway was quiet, bathed in warm yellow light spilling from the living room.

Amelia had stepped out of the kitchen to grab her book from the porch bench, the one she left there earlier that evening.

She wasn't trying to eavesdrop. She didn't even know anyone was outside.

But as her hand reached for the door handle, she heard the low murmur of voices, familiar voices.

Eli. And Nora.

She froze.

Through the thin wooden frame, the words were clear enough:

"Would it be so bad if I were?"

"I guess it depends on how long you've felt like that… and if you're sure it's me."

"I want to be," he said.

There was silence after that.

Amelia's heartbeat was a little too loud. She hadn't meant to hear.

But now that she had… something inside her twisted quietly.

Not jealousy. Not anger. Just a shift, like watching the stars rearrange overhead.

She backed away, careful not to make a sound, and slipped up the stairs before the porch door creaked open.

Inside her room, she turned on the dim reading lamp and pulled her book into her lap. But she didn't open it.

She just sat there for a while, staring at nothing.

No one saw her expression. No one heard her steady exhale. No one knew she'd heard everything.

And Amelia said nothing.

The next morning, she smiled as usual. Teased Kai over breakfast.

Complimented Lena's coffee.

And when Eli entered the room, eyes scanning the space as if searching for something or someone, Amelia met his gaze with the calmest expression she could manage.

"Sleep okay?" he asked.

She nodded with a warm smile. "Best in months."

She didn't ask about last night. She didn't ask about Nora.

She just let it be.

 Smoke in the Silence

Kai's Perspective

"The morning air was light with salt and old sunlight.

Kai stirred his coffee absently, eyes scanning the porch where the others gathered in ones and twos.

There was something in the air, not quite wrong, but not quite right either.

Like the moment before a storm breaks, all hush and pressure.

He wasn't one to overthink moods.

But when Amelia walked in that morning, cheerful and polished in a way that felt too effortless, something in his gut whispered: She's hiding something.

He watched her joke with Lena, pour herself orange juice, then lean casually against the wall like she hadn't a worry in the world.

Eli came in next.

Tired eyes, quiet entrance.

"He and Amelia exchanged one look, short and unreadable.

Okay, Kai thought, definitely something.

But then Lena looped her arm through his and dragged him toward the beach, asking about his art, and the strange pulse of suspicion faded… for now.

Eli's Perspective

He sat on the edge of the bed, journal open, pen in hand, but he hadn't written a word.

Last night kept replaying.

Nora hadn't said anything. She hadn't said no either. Just that careful look in her eyes.

That careful smile.

And then... that moment after. A sudden rustle on the porch, like someone had been there. Had someone heard?

Eli's chest tightened.

He turned the page in his journal.

The top corner had an old scribble:

Amelia September. Still makes me laugh for no reason."

He sighed.

Why had his heart always been so divided? Amelia had been the first light in a dark hallway back in school.

And then she drifted. Boyfriends. Distance. Distractions. He buried those feelings long ago.

Then came Nora. Steady, sarcastic, warm.

They'd talked every week for three years. She knew his dreams.

His fears. But maybe he'd mistaken comfort for something else.

What am I doing?

He finally wrote one line on the fresh page:

"I think I'm running in circles and calling it love."

The door creaked open slightly.

It was Lena. "Hey, beach in twenty?"

Eli looked up and nodded. "Yeah. Be right there."

As the door clicked shut again, he stared at the journal.

And for the first time, he realized…

He wasn't sure who he was hoping would open that door.

Things Heard, Things Felt

The breeze off the sea was soft, the sun beginning to melt into the horizon, casting everything in gold and rose.

Most of the group had drifted into quiet moments, some inside grabbing snacks, others outside just enjoying the lull of the day.

Amelia had stepped out of the kitchen with a glass of water in hand, heading toward the far edge of the porch, when she heard voices.

She paused just out of view, the familiar cadence of Lena's voice stopping her mid-step.

"I feel it, Kai," Lena said, her voice low but certain. "I think Nora's the one Eli likes."

Amelia froze.

"You sure?" Kai asked, the sound of his pencil tapping against a wooden rail.

"I mean... we all know he and Amelia have history. It's not surprising they're close."

"Yeah," Lena said, hesitantly.

"But we all felt it. The way Eli's been looking at Nora... It's different.

It's like he's trying not to feel it, but he's already gone."

Kai sighed.

"Still... Amelia's always been part of his world, too. She can be close to him without it meaning something romantic."

"I know," Lena replied, "but lately... it feels like Amelia's trying to pull him back in.

Even when she doesn't mean to.

I'm not saying it's intentional, Kai. But I don't want this to mess things up between us."

Amelia's throat tightened.

She quietly stepped back before they could notice her.

Her heart thudded with a confusing cocktail of emotions, guilt, surprise, and something else she couldn't name.

She didn't want to be seen as someone disrupting the balance.

Not in this group. Not with Eli. Not with Nora.

She slipped away silently and returned to her room. She didn't slam the door.

She didn't cry.

She just stood still, the hum of the ceiling fan above her and the soft rustle of waves in the distance the only things anchoring her.

"Is it wrong to still care for someone you used to be close to?" she whispered to herself.

"Is it wrong... to still not know where your heart is?"

She sank onto the bed and picked up her journal. But this time, she didn't write.

She just held it close.

When Silence Says Everything

The morning after the overheard conversation was quiet.

Too quiet.

The sun had risen with soft golden light, warming the floorboards and casting long shadows across the porch where Eli sat alone, coffee growing cold in his hands.

He glanced at the empty seat beside him, Amelia's usual spot.

She hadn't come out.

No teasing remarks. No shared smirks.

No Amelia gently nudging his arm and saying, "You make terrible coffee, but I like sitting next to you."

It was odd.

Eli stared out at the horizon, trying to shake the sense that something had shifted.

The night before played on a loop in his head: her easy laugh, the way her eyes lit up when they talked about their school days, how, for just a moment, everything felt like it used to.

But then… she'd disappeared.

No one said much about it.

Just that Amelia had turned in early. Said she was tired.

Now, as the others trickled in for breakfast, Eli kept glancing at the hallway, waiting.

Still no Amelia.

When he finally found her, it was late afternoon. She was out by the edge of the garden, sketching something in her notebook, legs tucked beneath her, face half in shadow.

She didn't notice him at first, not until he sat a few feet away.

"Hey," Eli said gently.

"Hey," Amelia replied, barely lifting her eyes.

It hit him then, how different her voice sounded. Muted. Not angry. Just… distant.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."

Eli watched her quietly. He wasn't used to this version of her.

Reserved. Guarded. It unsettled him more than he expected.

"Did I say something wrong last night?" he asked, genuinely unsure.

She shook her head, forcing a small smile. "No, not at all. Just... needed some space."

Silence.

The kind of silence that filled the spaces between people who once knew each other better than anyone else.

"I miss talking with you," Eli said softly.

Amelia finally looked at him, and for a brief moment, he saw something flicker in her eyes, pain, maybe. Or confusion. Or something deeper she hadn't named yet.

"You're still here," she said. "We're just different now."

Eli's breath caught.

He wanted to say something back.

That he didn't want things to change.

That he wasn't sure where he stood with anyone right now, not even himself.

That sometimes, being near her made everything feel clearer… and messier at once.

But he didn't say any of it.

Because Amelia had already turned back to her sketchbook.

And Eli didn't want to press where he hadn't yet been invited.

Still, he lingered just in case.