(Where we catch up to who they've become, what they've kept, and what's quietly changed when no one was looking.)
"You don't always notice the way people grow when you're growing beside them.
But one day, their voice settles deeper.
Their laugh is slower.
Their eyes look like they've been somewhere."
It's Fall Again
The school looked smaller.
That was the first thing Kade noticed.
Not because the walls had shrunk—but because he had grown. Taller, stronger. His frame filled out over the years, subtle muscle etched beneath long sleeves and quiet postures.
His walk wasn't nervous anymore. Still quiet, yes. Still deliberate. But now it carried a stillness, not hesitation.
He didn't try to disappear anymore.
But he didn't try to be seen, either.
He just… was.
And that was new.
Senior Year
The halls felt familiar but distant.
Like an old jacket you used to wear all the time, but now the sleeves felt short.
There were new students. New gossip. New drama looping like static in the corners of classrooms and locker doors.
But for Kade, much of it blurred.
Because his world had shape. Edges.
And that shape, more often than not, walked beside him with a hoodie half-zipped and a coffee cup in her hand.
Viera.
Still magnetic. Still terrifying in her ability to disarm, unravel, and adore him with surgical precision.
She hadn't changed in the ways people expected.
She was still beautiful—no, more so. Effortlessly. Like her eyes had learned how to carry weight and fire at the same time.
But her smile was softer now.
And her voice, when it was just for him, had changed.
Not louder.
But lower. Slower.
Like she trusted the words would land exactly where they were meant to.
Kade's Locker
He opened it on the second day of school to find something taped inside.
A photo.
A newer one.
Viera asleep on his chest, their hands loosely tangled. The sunlight bleeding in through her bedroom blinds. Her mouth slightly open. A smudge of Sharpie still faintly visible on her cheek.
Written across the bottom:
Still yours. Still ridiculous.
He laughed. Quietly. Touched the edge of the photo with his thumb like it was something sacred.
The World Around Them
They weren't exactly popular.
But they weren't unknown anymore either.
People had stopped whispering long ago.
The jocks that used to push Kade around barely made eye contact. The girls who once giggled cruelly when Viera passed by now smiled like they remembered being fourteen and stupid.
A few even looked at Kade differently now.
Not because of gossip.
But because something about him had shifted.
He didn't flinch anymore when people bumped into him.
Didn't hunch when teachers called his name.
His hoodie was still oversized. Still safe.
But he wore it like armor now, not a shield.
A Slow Afternoon
They were in the music room.
It was empty except for them.
He sat on the old piano bench.
She was on the windowsill, her feet tucked under her.
The autumn light fell in through the tall glass like honey, slow and golden.
Viera reached down and pulled at his hood.
"Still hiding?"
Kade smirked. "I'm meditating."
"Liar."
She dropped beside him. Their shoulders touched.
"You ever think about the future?" she asked, voice barely above the hum of dust in the vents.
"All the time," he said. "But not in the way most people mean."
She looked at him, curious.
He added, "I don't think about careers. Or where I'll live. I just… I just want to wake up one day and still recognize myself. That's it."
Viera's breath hitched a little.
Then she whispered, "I want to wake up and see you beside me."
Kade looked down at her hand. Slid his into it.
Neither of them said anything after that.
They didn't have to.
The Friend
Later that week, as Kade walked to class, he passed the math room.
Elliot was inside, sitting on the floor, sketchbook open, music in one ear.
They locked eyes.
Elliot raised a hand—not a wave, just a quiet acknowledgment.
Kade nodded back.
That was it.
But it meant something.
Sometimes the people who change your life don't have to do it loudly.
Sometimes they just sit in your life, quietly, and refuse to leave.
One Last Thing – Her Room
That night, Viera found Kade asleep in her bed.
He had come over late, half-embarrassed, muttering something about bad dreams and restless legs. She didn't ask.
He was sprawled on his back now, one arm draped over his face, breathing soft and even.
She slid in beside him, careful not to wake him.
And then she did something she hadn't done in months.
She reached under his shirt, just enough to graze his ribs—barely there, featherlight.
Kade twitched.
Then groaned.
"…Vieeeeera…"
She grinned, curled beside him, and whispered:
"I'm still ridiculous."
End of Chapter 29 – Some Silences Grow With You