•Florida Stories• · Y/n story by @YasNeveah

Syria Quinn

bumps her shoulder against River's as they lounge on the park bench I still can't believe she'd just leave like that. No warning, no nothing. Just—poof. Chicago.

River Quinn

shrugs, tearing at a blade of grass She had her reasons. You know how she gets.

Yasiah Lewis

sprawled on the grass, arms folded behind his head Yeah, well, her reasons suck. We haven't seen her in what—five years? Six?

Ayla Waters

adjusts her sunglasses, kicking at a dandelion It's been seven, actually. pauses We were eleven.

Knox Reed

leans against a tree trunk, arms crossed, saying nothing but watching the street

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the park. A breeze carried the scent of cut grass and someone's barbecue a few blocks over. The group settled into the familiar rhythm of summer—talk, laugh, argue, repeat.

Lane Walker

grins, tossing a crumpled snack wrapper at Yasiah's head Relax, man. She'll come back when she's ready. People always come back.

Ashanti Haven

doesn't look up from her phone Or they don't. Depends on the person.

Syria Quinn

bites her nail I just miss her, you know? She was my—

Syria had gone still. Her hand dropped from her mouth.

Ayla Waters

slowly removes her sunglasses No way.

Yasiah Lewis

sits up so fast he nearly knocks Lane over Is that—

???

stands at the edge of the grass, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, looking at them like she's unsure if she's still welcome