secrets between us

Aaron

It had been nearly a month since the new school year began, but something felt different. It was a feeling that was hard to put into words, like a small but steady emptiness nestled in my chest, a sense that something significant was missing from our lives. This year, the days felt quieter, less vibrant, and even though everything seemed normal on the surface, there was an undeniable change that lingered just beneath. Ever since Ashley made a new best friend, Ava, she hadn't been around as much. It was as if she'd slipped into a new routine that barely included Ashton and me, as if the Golden Trio we'd always been was suddenly less important, less significant.

I missed it. I missed us.

For as long as I could remember, it had always been the three of us—Ashton, Ashley, and me. We called ourselves the Golden Trio, a nickname that had blossomed from our shared love for Harry Potter, where we pretended to be like Harry, Hermione, and Ron, always sticking together, facing whatever challenges came our way. That bond was special to us; it was a thread that wove our lives together, and we had made countless memories over the years. From spontaneous hangouts at the local park to endless conversations about movies, music, and those random little things that only we understood, every moment spent together felt like a treasure. There was something so comforting in knowing that we always had each other, that no matter what life threw at us, we had a group to belong to, a shared rhythm that made every day feel complete.

But lately, every day after school, it was only Ashton and me. Ashley would go off with Ava, often heading to some café, or park, or wherever else they decided on a whim, leaving us behind. It was strange how quickly the pattern had changed, how suddenly our trio was down to two. I tried to brush it off at first, telling myself it was just the excitement of new friendships, a temporary thing. But as the days turned into weeks, the absence of Ashley's laughter and vibrant energy started to feel like a weight in my chest. There were so many moments I wanted to share with her, so many inside jokes and stories I yearned to tell, but it felt like she was always somewhere else, lost in a world that didn't include us.

Back when Bianca was Ashley's best friend, things had been so different. Bianca was her friend, yes, but Ashley never seemed so distant back then. Even though she and Bianca were practically like sisters, Ashley always found a way to keep us all connected. She had this incredible way of balancing her time, making sure that even if she spent hours with Bianca, she'd come home with stories to share, just as eager to hang out with Ashton and me. It was natural, easy, and comforting. Even when Bianca left, moving far away, we stayed close. If anything, we grew closer after Bianca's departure. Ashley leaned on us more, and our trio felt even stronger, like a small family bound by trust and friendship.

But now, it felt as if Ava had taken over Ashley's world, and that sense of closeness had started to slip away. I could still remember Ashley's laughter echoing through our conversations, from the endless calls she shared with Bianca to the way we'd all spend weekends together watching movies, eating popcorn, and discussing plot twists like they were the most important matters in the universe. Back then, it never felt like she was shutting us out. Ava, though, seemed to take up all of her time and attention, and the worst part was that she didn't even seem to realize it. Ashley appeared to be genuinely happy with Ava, and while I was glad she had a friend, I couldn't shake the sadness that lingered every time I saw her walk away with Ava after school, laughing and chatting without a backward glance.

Today felt like it would be the same as every other day, with Ashton and me left to fill in the silence Ashley left behind. I told myself it didn't matter, but as I walked home alone from school, I could feel that familiar emptiness creeping in, an ache that had settled into my bones. Just as I turned the corner to our street, something unusual caught my attention. Through the open window of Ashley's house, I heard laughter—Ashley's laughter. It sounded so familiar, so joyous, and it hit me with a wave of nostalgia that was almost overwhelming. I could barely remember the last time I'd heard her laughter ringing through that house, and suddenly, a spark of hope ignited inside me.