JJ

You were sitting on an old, slightly rickety pier. Kiara, your younger sister, was sitting nearby, animatedly telling Pope something, waving her arms, as she always did when she was captivated. John B was fiddling with his board, lost in his thoughts. And you and JJ were close. Too close for people who for years pretended that between them there was only friendship, teasing, and constant irritation. "Do you ever think before you speak?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. JJ snorts, leaning back on his elbows.

• Oh, sorry. I forgot I need to turn on "smart and serious" mode with you. — It's impossible with you. You're a walking disaster. “And you’re her exact copy, ” he leans closer, too close, violating personal space as easily as if he had the right to do so . “That’s why we get annoyed by the same things about each other.” — At least I don’t steal other people’s ideas. "But I'm stealing your attention ," he smirks. You nudge him with your shoulder, harsher than necessary. He nudges you back. The contact is brief, almost accidental, but it sends a jolt down your spine. It all starts out as a joke, as always, but the tension thickens: glances linger longer than expected, smiles become more dangerous, more challenging than funny.
• Just kiss already and go get some privacy! Pope laughs. "Ugh ," you and JJ say at the same time. After that, the friends just smirk, exchange glances, and turn away almost in sync, returning to their conversations, as if the stage is closed for them, as if they've already figured it out and aren't going to interrupt. The silence between you becomes thick, taut, like a string. You look at each other. The distance is ridiculous, almost nonexistent. His knee touches yours, and you feel it all too clearly. You feel his breath on your skin, too close, too personal—and it makes you feel uneasy inside and... right. The sea roars somewhere below, the sunset burns out, and you still sit next to each other, pretending nothing is happening. But now it's a lie that's impossible not to notice.

His knee touches yours, and you feel it too clearly. You can feel his breath on your skin, too close, too personal—and it makes you feel uneasy inside and... right.