The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement of the park. The air was still warm, though the edge of a cooling breeze hinted at the change of seasons. Maxine kicked at a stray pebble as she walked, hands stuffed deep into her hoodie pockets. Despite the heat, she insisted on wearing the same dark colors she always did, the soft black fabric almost blending her into the gathering twilight. Her hair, thick and unruly, was pulled back into a messy ponytail, but the stray curls always found a way to escape, tickling her freckled cheeks.
"Max, you're gonna fry in that thing," Rita teased, her voice laced with amusement. She bounced along beside Maxine, her loose, brown curls catching the last of the sunlight. She wore a loose tank top and shorts, her caramel skin glowing with the remnants of a tan.
Max shot her a glare, her troubled blue eyes narrowing. "I'm fine. It's not even that hot anymore."
Joelle, lagging behind as usual, giggled softly at their banter. Her long, kinky hair was carefully braided into a low, neat braid that rested on her back, her posture straight and graceful even in the casual setting. She adjusted the pastel pink skirt she wore, the soft fabric brushing her knees as she walked. She always looked so put together, Max thought with a twinge of annoyance.
They reached the park bench by the lake, the same spot they'd claimed as their own since freshman year. Now, three years later, it was tradition to come here as the summer wrapped up, a quiet place to reflect on how much time had passed—and what little time remained.
"I can't believe we're starting senior year in a week," Joelle said, breaking the silence as they settled into their spots. She pulled out her journal from her tote bag, her fingers already flipping to a fresh page. "It feels like yesterday we were just starting high school."
Max shrugged, leaning back against the bench, her eyes scanning the still surface of the lake. "I don't know. I'm ready to get it over with."
"You're always ready for it to be over with," Rita said with a snort, picking up a stick and lazily drawing shapes in the dirt at her feet. "What are you gonna do when it actually is? High school's supposed to be the best years of our lives, right?"
Max didn't respond. She wasn't sure if Rita was joking or not. Everything felt off lately—like they were stuck in this strange limbo between who they had been and who they were supposed to become. Joelle seemed fine, though. She always had her life together—always knew exactly what was next. Max envied that.
"Senior year is gonna be different," Joelle said, her voice soft but hopeful. "We'll get to make more memories, apply to colleges, and figure out what we really want."
Rita gave a mocking cheer. "Woo, more studying. Just what we needed."
Joelle rolled her eyes but smiled. "Come on, Rita. Don't you want to do well this year? Maybe we could all try harder, help each other out." She glanced at Max, her gaze lingering for a second too long.
Max felt the weight of that look and shifted uncomfortably. Joelle always tried to include her in the academic talk, but it never quite fit. She hated school—or maybe school hated her. She wasn't dumb; she just didn't see the point of all those rules, all that structure. Art, though—that was something she understood. But no one ever asked her about art.
"Yeah, well," Max mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck, "we'll see."
The sun dipped lower, the orange hues of the sunset reflecting on the water, casting a warm glow on their faces. The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves around them.
"So, what do we do for our last week of freedom?" Rita asked, leaning back and tossing the stick aside. "We've gotta do something epic. One last hurrah before we get swallowed by senior year."
