Fractured

1: The Invasion

MARCO

I'm having the time of my life, standing in the middle of the arcade with a handful of tokens and a killer view of Jake's epic gaming skills. The flashing lights and cheerful beeps surround me as I lean against the side of the basketball machine, watching my best friend take shot after shot.

"Come on, Jake! You call that a jump shot?" I call out, a teasing grin spreading across my face.

"Just you wait, Marco! I'm gonna show you how it's done," he shoots back, determination shining in his eyes.

He takes another shot, and this one actually goes in. I clap sarcastically. "Wow, the future NBA star, everyone! Someone get this guy a contract!"

"Just keep practicing your commentary," he says with a smirk. "And leave the actual shooting to the pros."

Tobias stands next to me, absentmindedly fiddling with a handful of tokens. He's quiet, a bit awkward in a way that makes him easy to overlook, but there's something endearing about it. His messy hair and oversized flannel shirt give him that out-of-place, bookish vibe that makes it hard to imagine him in a noisy, crowded arcade. I don't know him as well as Jake does, but I've seen him around enough to understand the way he keeps to himself. He's not the type to demand attention, but there's something about him that makes you want to look twice.

Jake saved him from a bully during sophomore year. After that, Tobias just kind of quietly becomes part of the group. He doesn't say much, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. He's one of us now.

"Are you guys hungry?" I ask, glancing between Jake and Tobias. "Because I could go for some fries."

Tobias shrugs, looking a bit uncertain. "I didn't really bring extra money for food."

Jake immediately chimes in. "No worries, man. I got you. Let's hit the food court."

We make our way out of the arcade, the smell of greasy fries and pizza wafting through the air. As we walk, I can't help but feel the energy of summer winding down. Soon, we'll be starting our junior year—more responsibilities, more classes, and a whole lot less time for hanging out. I'm determined to make the most of these last few days.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot Rachel and Cassie—the last two pieces of our little friend puzzle. They're sitting at a table, leaning in close, laughing over something that only they seem to understand. It's easy to see how they command attention, even without trying. Rachel's effortless confidence radiates from her, the kind that makes you feel like she could light up the whole room if she wants to. And Cassie, with her easy smile and laid-back demeanor, seems to glow in her own way, making everyone around her feel at ease. Together, they look like they own the place.

Rachel wears a light pink tank top that brings out the tan in her sun-kissed skin, paired with denim shorts that showcase her long legs—legs I've, unfortunately, started noticing a lot more lately. It's like my brain has suddenly decided to pay attention to every little detail about her.

She spots us approaching the table and flashes me that smile of hers. The kind of smile that sends that familiar, annoying flip through my stomach again. At this point, I hate how predictable it is.

I've known Rachel my whole life—she's my next-door neighbor, the girl I used to climb trees with and argue over who got to eat the last of my mom's brownies. But this summer? Something's definitely changed. She isn't just Jake's cousin or my childhood friend anymore. Now, she is... well, she's Rachel. The same girl I've grown up with, but now there's something new about her. Something that makes me wonder—just for a second—if there might be more between us than just the usual banter and memories. It's a thought I'm not ready to dwell on, and definitely not admit to anyone else. Definitely not to her. But for some reason, it keeps popping up, and I can't seem to shake it.