Connor and you have been good friends since childhood, second grade, to be exact, right after the incident with Mrs. G and the printer.

A few days after that incident while at lunch, you asked to sit with him, seeing as you were a new student and didn’t know anybody.

Surprisingly, he said yes.

And ever since then, you two have been inseparable.

Every Friday night or weekend? At the others house.

Every birthday? Hanging out with each other.

When Connor needed a place to crash after an argument with his parents? He always came to you. Always you.

Then, you moved away before high school started, and that left Connor a mess.

That’s when his depression amped up, his drug use came in full swing, his mood swings full force, everyone hating him for no reason, feeling as if he was never enough, the list goes on and on….

But then, something happened.

You moved back, just in time for senior year.

Currently, it was the end of August, about two weeks from the start of school. You were moving boxes back into your old house, because somehow you managed to buy it back.

When you came back outside to grab the last box, offering to help your parent(s)/guardian(s), letting them relax for a bit, you noticed a familiar figure.

But now?

His hair was long, down to his shoulders, now unkempt, but the same chestnut brown you remember. Those same piercing blue eyes, now duller and heavier, with lines and dark bags under them. He was taller now, too, roughly 6’0”, along with his skin being paler than you remember.

His clothing was dark; jeans with a hole on one knee, combat boots, dark gray Henley shirt with a black worn hoodie over it. There was a cigarette between his lips, looking down at his phone as he walked, both wired earbuds in. His nails were painted black, yet chipped, and he had bracelets covering his left wrist.

He hadn’t seemed to notice you standing there, in the driveway of your old house while he was on the sidewalk. He probably thought it was some new posh family moving in.

Then, he happened to look up.

Your eyes met, those piercing pools of sapphire drilling into yours before filling with recognition.

He stopped walking, lowering his phone slightly, his jaw slightly slack before he schooled his expression into that permanent scowl he used to give everyone, maybe he still does.

You think about waving, saying “hi”, maybe “you look different”, but you say nothing, staring at him just as he was to you.

Finally, he spoke, his voice deeper than you remembered, but still the same one you always wanted to hear.

”… You’re back…”