GROWING INTO US

Between Us

The week after Foundation Week felt strangely different for Tristan. School had returned to its usual routine, but somehow everything felt heavier than before. The decorations had been taken down, the exhibition boards were being stored away, and students were already talking about their next activities. For everyone else, Foundation Week seemed like something that had already passed. For Tristan, it felt like the beginning of something he couldn't quite explain.

He arrived at school early and went straight to the Student Council room. There were still schedules to organize, reports to finish, and another school activity to prepare for. Normally, he would have complained about the workload, but today he simply sat at his desk and started sorting papers.

His phone buzzed.

It was a message from his mother.

Good morning. Can we talk later?

Tristan stared at the message.

He didn't know what she wanted to talk about this time.

He locked his phone and placed it face down on the table.

"You're here early."

Tristan looked up.

Spencer stood in the doorway.

"Couldn't sleep."

Spencer walked over and placed his bag on the chair beside him.

"Because of your mom?"

Tristan paused.

"A little."

Spencer studied his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Spencer nodded.

"Okay."

There was no pressure in his voice.

Tristan appreciated that.

At least, he thought he did.

For the rest of the morning, they worked together on the Student Council schedule. Spencer handled the announcements while Tristan organized the volunteers. They had always worked well together, almost without needing to explain what they were doing.

But lately, something felt different.

Tristan couldn't tell whether it was Spencer or himself.

During lunch, Sofia joined them at their usual table. She carried her sketchbook under one arm and dropped her bag onto the empty chair.

"You're both working again?"

Tristan smiled.

"We're always working."

"That's depressing."

Spencer laughed.

"You say that like you don't spend half your time drawing."

"Drawing isn't work."

"Tell that to your parents."

Sofia's smile faded for a second.

Tristan noticed.

"Everything okay?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. Just the usual."

She opened her sketchbook and showed them a new drawing.

It was a painting of the school courtyard during sunset.

Spencer leaned closer.

"This is wonderful."

"You think so?"

"Definitely."

Sofia smiled.

Tristan looked at the drawing.

"It feels peaceful."

"That's what I wanted."

Spencer looked at Sofia.

"You should keep doing this."

She smiled.

"I plan to."

Tristan watched them for a moment.

Their conversation was normal.

There was nothing strange about it.

They were friends.

He knew that.

Still, something about the way they talked made him uncomfortable.

It wasn't jealousy.

At least, Tristan didn't want to call it that.

Maybe he was simply tired.

Maybe everything happening with his mother was making him more sensitive than usual.

He pushed the thought away.

After lunch, Mia found Tristan standing alone near the hallway.

"You okay?"

Tristan nodded.

"Yeah."

Mia crossed her arms.

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you say you're okay when you're obviously not."

Tristan smiled faintly.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired."

Mia sighed.

"You always say that when something is bothering you."

"I know."

"Then maybe stop being tired and start talking."

Tristan laughed quietly.

"I'll try."

Mia smiled.

"That's all I'm asking."

Daniel suddenly appeared behind them.

"Are you two having a serious conversation without me?"

Mia rolled her eyes.

"We were trying to."

Daniel looked at Tristan.

"Then I'll leave."

"No, stay."

Daniel smiled.

"See? I'm already useful."

Tristan laughed.

For a few minutes, things felt normal again.

They joked about the upcoming school activity, complained about their teachers, and argued about who would end up doing the most work.

But Tristan still couldn't completely shake the feeling that something was changing.

Later that afternoon, Spencer and Sofia stayed behind in the Student Council room to finish part of the Foundation Week report.

Tristan had already gone home.

Sofia was reviewing photographs from the exhibition when Spencer looked over her shoulder.

"That one is good."

"The lighting?"

"Yeah."

Sofia smiled.

"I took it after everyone left."

"The empty hallway?"

"Yeah."

Spencer looked at the photograph again.

"It feels different when nobody's around."

"Exactly."

They continued talking.

About photography.

About university.

About what Sofia wanted to do after graduation.

Spencer listened carefully.

Sofia noticed.

"You really listen, don't you?"

Spencer looked confused.

"What do you mean?"

"When I talk about art, you don't make me feel like I'm wasting my time."

Spencer smiled.

"You're not."

Sofia looked down at her sketchbook.

"My dad still doesn't understand."

"He will eventually."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then you'll still know what you want."

Sofia smiled.

"You're good at saying things like that."

Spencer laughed.

"Tristan says, I sound like I'm giving a speech."

"He's right."

Spencer shook his head.

"You're both impossible."

Sofia laughed.

Neither of them noticed how comfortable the conversation had become.

Neither of them realized that they were beginning to look forward to these small moments.

Spencer's phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen.

It was a message from Sofia.

He glanced at her and laughed.

"You just texted me."

"I know."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to show you something."

She turned her sketchbook around.

Spencer smiled.

"You're strange."

"Maybe."

He looked at the drawing.

"I like it."

"Really?"

"Really."

Sofia smiled.

Spencer smiled back.

Neither of them thought much about it.

Not yet.

That evening, Tristan sat on his bed staring at his phone.

He had received another message from his mother.

I hope you're doing okay. I miss you.

He didn't know how to respond.

Then another notification appeared.

It was from Spencer.

Good night. I love you.

Tristan smiled despite himself.

He typed:

Good night. I love you too.

For a moment, everything felt normal again.

But the next morning, Tristan saw Spencer and Sofia talking in the hallway.

They were laughing about something.

Spencer looked relaxed.

Sofia looked happy.

Tristan stopped walking.

He watched them from a distance.

There was nothing wrong with what he was seeing.

They were friends.

That was all.

Still, Tristan couldn't explain the feeling that settled in his chest.

It wasn't jealousy.

Not yet.

It was something quieter.

A small feeling that told him the three of them were no longer standing in exactly the same place they had been before.

And for the first time, Tristan wondered if growing closer to someone could sometimes mean growing a little farther away from someone else.