Lena adjusted the strap of her tote bag as she stepped into the café, the warm scent of espresso and cinnamon filling the air. She scanned the room, her heart pounding just a little too hard. Would he even recognize her?

It had been over a decade since she last saw Ethan. They had been inseparable in high school—partners in crime, swapping notes in class, sneaking into each other’s houses to binge-watch old sitcoms. But then life happened. College in different cities. Careers. Silence.

And now, thanks to a random friend suggestion on social media, they were meeting again.

She spotted him by the window, hunched over a coffee cup, scrolling through his phone. He looked different—his once unruly curls were trimmed neatly, and he had a beard now. But when he looked up and saw her, his eyes lit up the same way they did when they used to pull off ridiculous pranks on their teachers.

“Lena!” He stood up, a grin spreading across his face.

“Ethan.” She smiled, relief washing over her.

They embraced briefly before sitting down.

“I can’t believe it’s been, what—twelve years?” he said, shaking his head.

“Four thousand, three hundred, and eighty days,” she teased, and he let out a laugh.

“Of course you’d keep count.”

Lena chuckled, but then silence settled between them. She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, unsure where to start.

“So,” he said, tapping the table. “Tell me everything. Where did you go? What did you do?”

They launched into updates—careers, relationships, cities they’d lived in. Ethan had moved around a lot, trying different jobs before settling in as a freelance graphic designer. Lena had stayed put, working as a journalist for a local magazine. Their paths had diverged so much, yet it felt like they had never truly lost each other.

“So,” Ethan said, smirking. “Still terrible at cooking?”

Lena groaned. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“I mean, you *did* nearly burn down your parents’ kitchen making toast.”

“Excuse me, that toaster was defective!”

“You put a metal fork in it.”

They burst into laughter, and just like that, it felt like no time had passed.

As their conversation deepened, Ethan’s smile faltered slightly. “I should’ve reached out sooner,” he admitted. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Lena hesitated. “I could’ve, too.” She sighed. “I think I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

She shrugged, stirring her coffee. “That we’d outgrown each other. That it wouldn’t be the same.”

Ethan nodded. “I get that. But honestly? I don’t think we ever really lost what we had. It was just... waiting.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as they let that thought sink in. Outside, the sky had turned a soft orange, the sun beginning its descent.

“I missed this,” Ethan said finally.

Lena smiled. “Me too.”

They stayed at the café until the barista started flipping chairs onto tables. When they finally stepped outside, the air was crisp with the promise of spring.

“So,” Ethan said, hands in his pockets. “Let’s not wait another twelve years to do this again?”

Lena laughed. “Agreed.”

But before they could part ways, Ethan hesitated. “Hey, you remember that old bookstore we used to go to after school?”

Lena’s eyes widened. “Page & Quill?”

He nodded. “It’s still there. Want to check it out?”

She didn’t even have to think about it. “Absolutely.”

They walked the few blocks in comfortable silence, occasionally reminiscing about their after-school routine—how they’d browse books they couldn’t afford, leaving behind folded paper cranes in the pages of their favorites.

When they reached the bookstore, it was like stepping into a time capsule. The same wooden shelves, the same scent of paper and ink, the same kind-eyed owner, Mrs. Patel, who gasped when she saw them.

“Well, look who it is,” she said, beaming. “I never thought I’d see you two together again.”

Ethan chuckled. “Neither did we.”

They spent the next hour wandering the aisles, flipping through books, pulling out ones they had once recommended to each other.

“You still hoard fantasy novels?” Ethan teased, pulling a thick hardcover from the shelf.

Lena smirked. “You still pretend to read philosophy?”

Ethan laughed, putting the book back. “Touché.”

They found their old corner by the window, the one they used to claim as their own, and sat down on the floor, just like they used to.

“So,” Ethan said, glancing at her. “Why now?”

Lena frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... we could have reconnected anytime. But something made us do it now.”

She thought about it. “I think I just got tired of losing people,” she admitted. “Life moves so fast, and people drift apart. But some people? Some are worth finding again.”

Ethan studied her for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Some are.”

They sat there for a while, watching the world pass by outside the window. The bookstore was closing soon, and they knew they had to leave.

As they walked back to the main road, Ethan cleared his throat. “So... let’s make it official.”

Lena raised an eyebrow. “Make *what* official?”

“This. Us. Being friends again. No more disappearing acts.”

She smiled, holding out her pinky. “Pinky promise?”

He rolled his eyes but hooked his finger around hers. “Pinky promise.”

As they parted ways that night, Lena realized something—this wasn’t just a rekindled friendship. This was a second chance.

And she wasn’t going to let it slip away again.