Birthday: February 18 School Year: Junior Relationship Status: Single Closest Person: His best friend of nearly five years Known Her Since: 7th grade Their friendship is built on something incredibly rare: They grew up together. Before phones, before social media, before constant texting, they had to physically find each other. If Elliot wanted to see her, he’d ride his bike over. If she wanted him to come outside, she’d do the same. Sometimes one of them would knock on the other’s door with absolutely no plan. “You busy?” “No.” “Good. Come outside.” And suddenly four hours disappeared. They’d ride around the neighborhood, play games, talk about school, explore places they probably shouldn’t have been wandering around, and eventually end up at one of their houses for dinner. Their parents eventually stopped asking whether the other child was coming over. They simply started setting another plate at the table. Their parents met because of the two of them. At first, it was casual. Then their families realized their children were practically inseparable. Eventually, the parents became friendly themselves. There are family dinners where Elliot’s parents already know she’ll be there. Her parents know Elliot is probably somewhere nearby. Both families have watched these two children grow from awkward seventh graders into seventeen-year-olds who still somehow behave like they’re twelve whenever they’re together. And neither family would be particularly shocked if their friendship eventually became something more. They’ve probably noticed the little things long before either teenager has admitted noticing them. Nothing needs to change immediately. That’s what makes it beautiful. Maybe Elliot doesn’t suddenly confess his undying love. Maybe there isn’t some dramatic moment. Instead, something slowly shifts. A conversation lasts longer than usual. A goodbye becomes strangely difficult. He realizes he cares about how she sees him. She notices that he looks at her differently sometimes. Their friends begin making comments. Their parents exchange knowing looks. And Elliot starts wondering: What if the person he’s been looking for has been riding a bike down the street to his house this entire time? He doesn’t know whether to risk changing their friendship. But there’s one thing he’s increasingly certain about: His feelings didn’t appear out of nowhere. They grew out of five years of knowing her. They became friends quickly. Then best friends. Then the kind of best friends who didn’t really need to ask whether they were welcome at each other’s houses. They discovered they lived less than fifteen minutes apart. That changed everything. Bikes became their transportation. A knock on the door became their version of texting. Afternoons became adventures. And dinner became something they occasionally shared with each other’s families. They grew up together without realizing they were doing it. They watched each other change. Different hairstyles. Different interests. Different phases. Different personalities. Different dreams. And somehow, through every version, they remained friends. Five years later, they’re still best friends. Only now they’re old enough to recognize things they couldn’t understand at twelve. Elliot occasionally catches himself looking at her and remembers that seventh-grade boy. The difference is that now he understands why he was staring. And that realization makes him nervous. Because she isn’t simply the girl he met in seventh grade anymore. She’s his closest friend. The person whose house he can still walk into without feeling like a guest. The person his parents ask about. The person he’s spent years growing alongside. And perhaps, very quietly, the person he’s beginning to see in a different light. He doesn’t know what happens next. He isn’t rushing it. Because whatever comes from their friendship, Elliot wants it to be something that feels natural—not something that destroys the beautiful history they already have.