A month had passed since we moved in, but that day felt strangely familiar.
It wasn't supposed to.
There was no reason for it to stand out. It was just another afternoon, another routine day. Tuition had been canceled, and most people had already left. Normally, I would have headed back home without thinking, or gone looking for Chase. Sometimes Cedar would be there too, and the three of us would find something to do, even if it was nothing.
But that day was different.
Chase wasn't around.
Cedar wasn't either.
For the first time in a while, I found myself standing there… alone.
The building felt quieter than usual. Even the air seemed still, like it was waiting for something. I didn't move immediately. I wasn't sure why I stayed.
Maybe I just didn't feel like going back yet.
"You can leave," my teacher's voice called out from behind me. "Same as him."
I looked up.
There was someone standing a few steps away.
A boy around my age.
Taller than me, with slightly messy, curly hair that didn't look like it had ever been properly combed. He turned slightly, as if he had just been about to leave, then paused when he realized I was looking at him.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
My teacher must have thought I was waiting for him.
It was a mistake.
But I didn't correct it.
"Hi," I said, trying to sound casual.
He hesitated for just a second.
Then smiled.
"Hi."
That was all it took.
We started walking.
Not together at first.
Just… in the same direction.
"What do you usually watch?" he asked after a moment.
"Depends," I said. "Idaten Jump, sometimes. Ben 10."
His expression changed instantly.
"No way. Ben 10 is actually good."
I looked at him. "You're saying that like it's surprising."
"It is," he said. "Most people don't get it."
I let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, they don't."
The conversation picked up from there.
Easily.
Too easily.
We talked about random things—cartoons, bikes, games we used to play, things that didn't really matter. And yet, somehow, they did. The kind of conversations that don't feel important while they're happening, but stay with you later.
We were barely eleven.
But the way we talked, it felt like we had known each other longer than that.
I laughed more than I had in weeks.
And I didn't even realize it until later.
By the time we reached the gate, something had already changed.
Not in a way I could explain.
Not in a way I even fully understood.
But I knew it.
"See you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
And just like that—
Nash became part of my days.
The next afternoon, I brought him along.
Chase was already there, and Cedar joined soon after. The open space near the building became our ground, just like always.
Except this time—
there was someone new.
"This is Nash," I said.
Chase nodded. Cedar gave a quick glance before tossing the ball lightly in his hand.
"Play?" Chase asked.
Nash shrugged. "I don't really know cricket."
"That makes it better," Cedar said.
It did.
Nash's bowling made no sense.
His batting was worse.
At one point, he spun the bat the wrong way entirely.
We couldn't stop laughing.
Not at him.
With him.
And that made all the difference.
For the next week, everything followed the same rhythm.
Afternoons turned into evenings filled with cricket, shouting, arguments over rules that didn't exist, and laughter that carried long after the games ended.
Each day blurred into the next.
But not in a boring way.
In a way that felt… full.
Nash started understanding the game.
A little.
"Don't throw it like that," I told him once. "You're basically giving us runs for free."
"I'm being generous," he replied.
"With what?"
"My skill."
Chase laughed. Cedar shook his head.
"Just bowl properly," he said.
He tried.
Failed again.
We laughed anyway.
Somewhere in those days, something settled.
Not loudly.
Not obviously.
But enough.
One evening, after a longer game than usual, Chase checked the time and left. Cedar followed soon after, leaving just the two of us behind.
The ground felt quieter without them.
We sat down on the low wall near the edge, snacks in hand and cold drinks sweating under the fading light.
The sky had started to change color.
Orange blending into something softer.
Nash leaned back slightly.
"How's life treating you?" he asked.
It was a simple question.
But something about it felt… real.
I looked up at the sky.
For a moment, I didn't answer.
"I have this feeling," I said slowly.
"What kind?"
I took a breath.
"Like something big is coming."
He didn't interrupt.
"Something that could change things," I continued. "Not just for me. For you too. For everyone around us."
He stayed quiet.
Listening.
"But it won't be bad," I added. "I don't know why, but it feels like it'll be fun. Like… something we'll look back on and remember."
I paused.
"Like this," I said. "Right now."
Nash smiled slightly.
Not wide.
Not exaggerated.
Just enough.
"Then we should make it count," he said.
I nodded.
We sat there a little longer.
Not talking much after that.
Sometimes, silence says enough.
The next day, something changed.
A truck stood near A Wing.
Boxes.
Voices.
Movement.
A new family.
I stood there for a moment, watching from a distance.
Something about it felt familiar.
Like the first day we moved in.
But this time—
it wasn't us.
I was in B Wing.
They were in A Wing.
Same floor.
Different side.
And yet—
something in me shifted.
I couldn't explain it.
But I felt it.
Clear.
Certain.
Something had started.
And this time—
I knew.
Things were going to get interesting.