The night was long and quiet, too quiet for Skylar to find any peace.
The soft hum of the ceiling fan stirred the silence in her room, the shadows on the walls dancing slowly with the rhythm of the moonlight. But inside her chest, the stillness was a lie. A storm brewed, restless and loud. Skylar lay in bed with her blanket pulled up to her chin, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes refused to shut. Her thoughts refused to stop. She turned to her side, hugged the pillow close, and sighed softly.
Then—her phone vibrated.
It wasn’t a message. Just another notification from one of her study apps. Nothing important. Nothing helpful either. She didn’t need to be reminded about her unfinished homework when her heart already felt too full, too heavy.
She hated that she couldn’t get Aiden off her mind. Not because she missed him. Not in a way she could even explain. It was just—everything. His silence. His smile earlier. The way he said goodbye, like he was walking away from something deeper.
But as her eyes finally began to flutter closed, it wasn’t Aiden she saw.
It was someone else.
The trees looked taller back then. The sunlight was softer. Skylar remembered the scent of bubblegum and old comic books. She saw a younger version of herself, maybe seven or eight, sitting on a curb, holding a stick of chalk in her hand, drawing crooked stars on the pavement.
"You should draw a dragon next," said the boy beside her, his voice playful and proud.
"I don’t know how to draw a dragon, Ethan," she had said, pouting.
"That’s okay. I can teach you. Mine looks like a lizard though."
She giggled in the dream, and somehow, in real life, her lips curved too. The laughter in the memory echoed warmly.
He handed her a different colored chalk, a bright red one. And they spent hours drawing a whole story on that sidewalk. Dragons, knights, castles, stick figures of themselves wearing crowns. Ethan had even given her a paper crown, one he made out of a crumpled old notebook page.
"Queen Skylar," he had bowed to her dramatically.
She didn’t want to wake up.
But the dream shifted.
The sky turned dark. The drawings were fading. And Ethan was walking away, waving at her with that same wide grin.
"I have to go now."
"Wait!"
She reached out, heart racing, her hands trembling. But he was too far already.
"Don’t forget the dragon, okay?" Ethan shouted.
She woke up with a soft gasp.
Sweat gathered on her forehead. The moon had shifted. Her blanket was twisted. Her hands were still slightly raised.
Ethan.
It was the first time in years that she dreamt of him.
Skylar sat up, hugging her knees close to her chest. Her heart was pounding. But it wasn’t fear.
It was something else.
A quiet ache.
A whisper of a bond long buried under the years and moments she never wanted to revisit. Ethan. Her childhood best friend. The one who moved away without saying goodbye properly. The one who used to braid her hair badly, race her on their bikes, give her the last candy just so she’d stop crying.
Why now?
Why that memory?
Why him?
She touched her chest lightly, as if hoping to press down the weight there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe regret. Maybe her heart was just trying to protect itself, throwing old names into the silence.
Skylar got out of bed and went to her window. She needed fresh air. Something real. Something present.
But even the night breeze couldn’t erase the voice in her dream.
Queen Skylar.
That silly title echoed in her ears, louder than it should.
---
The days passed like a blur, yet every minute dragged its feet. The festival’s buzz had died down, but something inside Skylar hadn't settled. There was a weight she couldn’t name and couldn’t shake. The dream about Ethan—his voice, the way he looked at her, the way she once clung to his every word—refused to leave her.
It haunted her.
She’d wake up in the middle of the night, breath caught in her throat, staring at the ceiling with wide, hollow eyes. She never told anyone about the dream. Not even Mia.
But today was different.
Skylar sat alone at the edge of the rooftop garden at school. The wind was soft, the sky painted with a pale blush from the fading afternoon. Her notebook was open beside her, pages fluttering as if they wanted to escape the truths inked into them.
She finally whispered to the wind, "Why now? Why Ethan?"
Then came footsteps.
"You okay?" Lucas asked, surprising her with his soft tone.
Skylar blinked. "Lucas? What are you doing up here?"
He shrugged. "Mia was looking for you. Said you didn’t text back. I figured you’d be in your favorite spot."
She chuckled lightly. "So she sent you?"
"More like I volunteered. I’ve been stuck doing inventory work for the council—thought I’d escape," he said, walking over and sitting next to her. "But… you seem like you needed someone more than I needed a break."
Skylar looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. Lucas had always been the charming one, the playful one, but today, he looked… serious.
"I’m fine," she replied, though her voice cracked slightly.
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "No, you’re not. Don’t lie. I can tell."
She sighed and glanced at her notebook. "Do you believe in dreams trying to tell you something? Like… trying to pull you back into something you buried a long time ago?"
Lucas didn’t answer right away. Instead, he picked up the notebook and read one line she had scribbled multiple times:
> I didn’t forget you. Not really.
"Ethan?" he guessed.
Skylar’s heart dropped. She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to.
Lucas leaned back, hands behind his head. "You loved him, didn’t you?"
"I don’t know what love even is anymore. Back then… maybe. Or maybe I was just clinging to someone who understood me," she whispered, hugging her knees. "He left without goodbye. I was just a stupid little girl with too much hope."
Lucas remained quiet, then smiled softly. "Well… if it makes you feel any better, stupid little girls don’t grow into strong girls like you."
Skylar smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Thanks, Lucas. That’s oddly comforting."
Just then, Mia’s voice echoed from behind. "Found you! I knew he’d find you faster than me!"
Lucas turned toward her with a teasing grin. "Told you I’m better at hide-and-seek."
Mia rolled her eyes and threw a small candy at him. "Only because you know all her secret hiding spots."
Skylar laughed—really laughed—for the first time in days.
But as the three of them walked back into the hallway, Skylar’s phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You’re not supposed to remember him.
Her feet stopped.
"Everything okay?" Mia asked.
Skylar stared at the screen, heart pounding. That dream… those memories… how would anyone know about Ethan? She hadn’t mentioned him in years. Not to her friends. Not to anyone.
Then, another message appeared:
Unknown Number: If you know what’s good for you, stay away from the truth.
Skylar’s hand trembled.
Lucas noticed. "Hey, what’s that?"
She quickly shut her phone off. "Nothing. Just spam."
But deep inside, Skylar knew it wasn’t spam.
It was a warning.
---
Meanwhile, in a far corner of the school, Aiden sat beside Bianca in the music room. They hadn’t spoken much since Skylar called him just a friend.
Bianca placed a warm drink in front of him. "You okay? You’ve been quiet."
Aiden stared at the untouched piano keys. "She called me her friend. That’s all I am. Just a friend."
Bianca didn’t respond. She waited.
Aiden continued, "I was going to read her that stupid letter. The one I’ve rewritten a dozen times. But she didn’t even give me the chance."
Bianca leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "I told you, Aiden. You’re not thinking straight when it comes to her. She’s not—"
"Don’t," he said, sharply.
"No, you need to hear this," Bianca insisted. "She’s not what you imagine her to be. You think she's this sweet, perfect girl who needs protecting. But maybe she doesn't need you. Maybe she’s not the one drowning. Maybe you are."
Aiden looked at her, eyes hard. "And what? You think I should just give up?"
Bianca looked away. Her voice was quiet. "I think you should stop pretending you're not breaking apart."
Silence stretched.
Then Aiden asked the question he’d buried for too long. "Why do you care so much?"
Bianca met his eyes. "Because I know what it’s like to love someone who will never look at you the same way."
A beat passed.
Something in Aiden’s expression shifted. "Bianca... did you—?"
But before he could finish, she stood up. "I have student council duties. You should go home. You’re no good to anyone if you keep letting your heart bleed."
And then she left.
But the look in her eyes? It wasn’t just council stress.
It was heartbreak. And it wasn’t just for Aiden.
It was for herself, too.