"We promised never to part, to always stay together. Now I wonder, was that just childish talk?"

The entire summer, Eden Anderson stayed home, barely stepping outside.

Our town hadn't produced a Columbia University student in years. The streets were plastered with red banners, the bold, gilded characters announcing: "Congratulating Eden Anderson on her successful admission to Columbia University."

Ever since summer break began, her parents’ phones had been ringing off the hook. Relatives and coworkers called with the same agenda: could Eden tutor their kids? She didn't refuse, agreeing to help the underclassmen with their coursework at home.

Bryce Anderson would occasionally drop by, hovering in the study to finish his homework or lounging in the living room to game. Every time, he’d sneak in bags of snacks her mother usually banned.

One afternoon in late July, a high-achieving junior came over for help with her humanities prep. Eden found her interesting, mostly because her name was a recurring feature in Bryce's chatter.

"Her name is Lily Garcia, she was in the class next to mine in middle school."

"Lily made it to City Academy too, in Class 7."

"Lily is taking liberal arts just like you, in Class 16."

Every time Bryce mentioned her, his face would light up with that smug, peacock-strutting pride. He seemed genuinely happier about her achievements than his own. Eden never quite understood his obsession, though Lily herself seemed indifferent to him. When Eden mentioned, "Bryce talks about you all the time," Lily didn't look surprised or pleased. She barely reacted at all.

Still, Eden felt a strange, magnetic pull toward her. Perhaps it was the mirror she saw in Lily—a girl who didn't complain, who didn't ask "why me," who just kept her head down and clawed her way forward.

After outlining the key concepts for the humanities exam, Eden felt a sudden urge to talk. She asked, "Is there someone you like?"

Lily nodded.

Eden was curious, but she respected the boundary. Instead, she found herself speaking on instinct: "I have someone, too."

For the first time in her life, she confided her secret to a virtual stranger. For the first time, she tried to put Lucas Powell into words.

What was Lucas actually like? She struggled to find a single adjective. He was handsome, smart, and wore a permanent air of reckless indifference. He liked to meddle in affairs that weren't his, yet he possessed an unnerving, tender attentiveness. He could throw a tantrum, but he knew how to step back. He was always lounging around, yet somehow excelled at everything he touched. Being with him felt like breathing, a strange, weightless freedom.

She had an encyclopedia of descriptions in her head, but she couldn't bring herself to voice them. To summarize: she liked Lucas because he was singular. Irreplaceable. The only one of his kind.

But Lucas didn't like Eden.

Ten guys out of ten liked Eden. Only Lucas didn't. And of course, Eden only had eyes for Lucas.

In early September, the air turned crisp. Eden lugged her suitcase to the station, taking the bullet train to campus alone.

The ticket lines were packed with college couples, clinging to each other, debating whether to drop off their bags at the dorms first or go straight out for a movie. Eden watched them, drifting into a daze. A guy in the neighboring line approached her, phone in hand. "Hey, pretty lady, mind if I get your WhatsApp?"

Eden shook her head. "Sorry, not today."

He pressed her a few more times, but seeing her utter lack of interest, he finally backed off. Eden looked down at her screen, intending to check the freshman class chat. Her thumb hovered over the plus sign in the top right corner. She hit "Add Contact," and, as if possessed, typed in a Discord tag.

Back in the summer, she’d caught a glimpse of Bryce’s screen when he forgot to log out. The first contact in his list was simply labeled "R." She had only seen it once, yet the string of numbers was burned into her memory.

She searched. A profile popped up. The username was just "R," and the location was set to London.

Below it, a button glowed: *Send Friend Request.*

Eden stared at that button until her eyes burned. Not until the station staff started herding the crowd toward the platform did she finally hit the back button, lock her phone, and slip it into her pocket.

Why was it so easy for strangers to trade contact info, but she couldn't summon the courage to press a button for a boy she’d known for seven years?

On the train, she found her seat—first row, by the window. She stowed her luggage and sank into the cushions, sliding her earbuds in. Just as she was about to queue up a playlist, a girl with a handbag took the seat next to her. She looked, then waved enthusiastically.

She was familiar, though the name escaped Eden.

"Don't tell me you forgot me, Eden? It's me, Elsie Meyer! We were in elementary school together!"

Eden offered a polite smile. "Oh! Right. Are you headed to New York for school?"

"Not New York, I'm heading to London."

Eden froze.

"I start late. My boyfriend has been working in New York all summer, so I’m going there to visit him, then we're flying out together. Did you hear? Lucas Powell is studying over there too, at Imperial College London. Real high-flyer, that one. Hey, you two went to the same high school, right?"

Eden nodded stiffly.

"I haven't seen him since we graduated. What does he look like now? Do you have his WhatsApp? Let me see his status updates!"

"I don't," Eden said.

"You guys don't talk anymore?" Elsie sounded genuinely shocked.

"No," Eden replied.

"I still remember back in primary school, you two were inseparable. No matter how much you pushed him away, he’d follow you like a puppy. It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?" Elsie sighed. "Now you're heading North, he's heading South. New York and London… you’ll never cross paths again. You should find a boyfriend at college, Eden. I can't wait to see who you pick."

Eden was too exhausted to play along. "I'm a bit tired," she murmured. "I think I'll nap."

"Oh! Go ahead, go ahead!" Elsie’s phone pinged. She looked down, her fingers flying across the screen, a small, secret smile tugging at her lips.

Eden closed her eyes, letting a random track play. She leaned her head against the cold metal of the train wall. Outside the glass, the landscape blurred into a streak of grey and green.

"The wind blows the rain into flowers; time can't outrun the white horse. The dreams we whispered in our youth—are you still clutching them?"

"We promised never to part, to always stay together. Now I wonder, was that just childish talk?"

In that rainy alleyway of our childhood, we promised the world. But growing up meant walking away.

Lucas, are you doing alright over there? What are you doing right now? Are you sitting in a lecture hall, or gaming with your roommates? Or are you with Molly Lee, doing all the things you used to do with me?

I hope your life is everything you wanted it to be. As for me, it's time I stepped into my own world.

I guess we really won't see each other again.

Then I wish you well. May you be safe, and may every one of your wishes come true.