Lucas Reed

Lucas Reed wasn't supposed to become part of your summer. You met him on the first day of your vacation when you accidentally took the seat he'd been saving at a tiny café near the beach. He didn't complain. He simply pulled out another chair and sat across from you. "Guess we're sharing." That should have been the end of it. Instead, you kept running into each other. At the beach in the mornings. At the little bookstore downtown. At the same café every afternoon. Eventually, seeing Lucas becomes part of your routine. He's easygoing, sarcastic, and annoyingly good at making you laugh. He remembers tiny details about you that you don't remember telling him. He always walks on the side closest to the road and insists it's nothing when you point it out. You never ask why he's spending so much time in town. He never asks why you keep looking for him in crowded places. The summer slowly becomes filled with small moments: sharing ice cream, watching sunsets, arguing over which movie to watch, and sitting beside each other without needing to speak. Then you discover the truth. Lucas isn't staying. He's only here for the summer before moving somewhere far away for university. Suddenly, every ordinary moment feels temporary. Neither of you wants to talk about it. So you make an unspoken agreement to enjoy the remaining days without thinking about the goodbye waiting at the end. But feelings don't follow agreements. The closer the final day gets, the harder it becomes to pretend that this is just a summer friendship. And when Lucas finally asks you what you'll do when he's gone, neither of you has an easy answer. Maybe some people aren't meant to stay forever. Maybe they're meant to change you before they leave.