The Sound of Laughter
"The sun dipped low behind the trees, "brushing the cabin in hues of gold and sleepy orange.
On the porch, the soft crackle of music buzzed from Nora's speaker as she adjusted the playlist.
"Lena fluttered between the kitchen and the backyard with snacks, bossing everyone around with her signature cheerful bossiness.
"Bonfire's in twenty minutes," she called, arms full of marshmallows.
"If anyone burns their s'mores, you're banned from next year's trip!"
Inside, Amelia was curled on the couch, legs tucked under her, pretending to read.
But her eyes drifted every few lines, mostly toward the open kitchen, where Eli and Harrison now stood side by side, arguing over whether the hot chocolate should be made with milk or water.
"I'm just saying," Harrison said, waving a spoon, "milk makes it rich.
Luxurious. Like warm silk."
Eli snorted. "It's a drink, not a spa day. Some of us grew up on the water version and survived just fine."
"Oh my God," Kai groaned from behind the couch.
"Please stop flirting and finish making the drinks."
Everyone laughed, even Amelia.
It was the first real, full-bodied laugh she'd let out all day.
A warm one that startled her, even softened the ache in her chest. And just like that, others joined in.
"Did Kai just accuse them of flirting?"
"Lena asked, stepping in with her camera.
"Hold on, I need to document this awkward domestic tension."
The group gathered around instinctively, the old rhythm returning.
Nora threw a pillow at Kai.
Harrison offered Eli marshmallows as a peace treaty.
Even Amelia found herself rising, drawn toward the familiar chaos.
The night drifted into giggles and story-swapping.
Someone brought out the card games.
Lena cheated.
Kai acted betrayed. Nora roasted everyone's past crushes with dangerous precision.
When the fire outside finally roared to life, they moved out in a cluster, wrapped in blankets, clasping mugs, hands reaching for warmth and maybe, just maybe, each other.
Eli ended up beside Amelia.
He didn't say much, just passed her a perfectly toasted marshmallow on a stick.
She looked at it. Then at him.
"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.
"I know," he said, not looking at her. "You didn't have to."
And that was all.
Nothing solved, not yet.
But in the hum of firelight and Kai's bad jokes, in Nora's wild storytelling and Lena's dramatic gasps, and in the way Amelia let herself laugh again, really laugh, something began to heal.
Not quite fixed.
But not broken either.
Just… beginning again.
And the night echoed with it
The sound of laughter.
The Bridge Between Us
Amelia stood at the edge of the old wooden bridge behind the cabin, the same one they had all once crossed, laughing, shouting dares into the wind.
Now it felt like a symbol, suspended between who they had been and who they might still become… if they didn't fall first.
The morning air was damp with silence. Not even the birds dared to interrupt.
She hadn't slept.
She had watched Eli leave breakfast early.
Watched Harrison disappear behind the trees.
Watched Nora pretend not to notice the ache in her voice.
And she had felt Lena watching all of them, trying to keep something, anything, together.
Amelia traced her fingers along the worn wood of the bridge railing, her heart pulling in two directions.
How could something that once felt so simple now feel like walking a tightrope?
She heard footsteps crunching the gravel behind her.
"I thought I'd find you here," Eli said softly.
She didn't turn around.
"So," she said, almost whispering, "this is where we are now. On opposite sides of… everything."
He walked up beside her and leaned on the railing, too. Close. But not touching.
"I didn't mean to see Harrison come out of your room," he said, voice low but not accusing.
"It's not what you think."
"Maybe. But it still hurt."
Amelia looked at him finally, eyes raw but steady.
"Then say it, Eli. Stop dancing around it. Do you like me that much? Or do you "just not want him to?"
Eli's lips parted, words almost forming, but a beat too late.
She shook her head, biting back the sting in her chest.
"You've had years, Eli. All those letters Nora read? Why didn't you send them?"
"Because I was afraid they'd ruin what we had," he admitted, his voice cracking.
"And now I ruined it anyway."
They stood in silence for a long moment.
Then he added, "You still matter to me, Amelia. Maybe more than I know how to admit."
Just then, a voice called faintly from the woods.
"Amelia!"
It was Harrison.
Eli's jaw tightened. He stepped back.
"I should go."
"Eli…"
But he was already walking away, tension in every step.
Amelia closed her eyes, heart aching. The bridge beneath her feet felt heavier.
Not long after, Harrison arrived, breathless and hopeful.
"I was looking everywhere for you."
"I was just thinking," she said, barely meeting his eyes.
"About us?"
She hesitated.
"About everyone," she answered.
Harrison looked at her, wounded but still brave.
"I know this is messy, Amelia.
But I'm not walking away this time. I mean it. Whatever's left of what we were… I want to build on it."
She stepped back, the tension swirling thick between them.
"You can't build anything until the dust settles. Right now, everything's broken."
He reached for her hand, and she let him take it, but her fingers were cold and limp.
Behind them, the bridge creaked.
And maybe that was the point: bridges don't collapse all at once.
They crack first. Slowly. Quietly. Until someone's brave enough to mend them.
Or let go.
"Three Hearts, One Truth"
The late afternoon sun cast golden rays across the cabin's deck, where the three girls sat in a triangle, cross-legged, quiet, and tired of pretending everything was fine.
Lena broke the silence, her voice soft but firm.
"We can't keep avoiding this. It's eating all of us up. Especially you, Amelia."
Amelia looked up, eyes glassy but steady.
"I know."
Nora hesitated.
"Whatever it is… We'll support you."
Amelia took a deep breath, her fingers knotted in her lap.
"I care about all of us.
This whole group… It's like my second family.
I don't want to be the reason it falls apart. I've thought about it, over and over."
The air was still. No one interrupted.
"If I choose Eli," she continued, her voice cracking, "I'd carry the guilt of hurting Harrison.
If I choose Harrison, I'll always wonder if Eli is silently breaking.
And if I say nothing… I still feel like the bad guy."
She let out a shaky breath.
"So I've decided. I'm letting go. Of both of them."
Nora's brows furrowed.
"Amelia…"
"No, listen.
I can't keep standing in between them, watching them tear each other apart because of me.
I don't want to wake up one day and realize I ruined friendships that took years to build."
Lena reached out and squeezed her hand.
"This is brave. And probably the hardest choice of all."
Amelia gave a small, sad smile.
"I don't want to be someone's prize.
I want to be someone's peace.
And right now, I think we all need space, not sides."
Nora nodded slowly.
"So… boundaries?"
"Yes," Amelia said, with a hint of finality.
"Respect. Distance if we need to.
But no more secrets.
No more lingering stares or waiting for someone to choose."
Lena looked between them and whispered,
"Can we still laugh? Still have movie nights and pancakes in the morning?"
Amelia blinked fast to hold back tears.
"That's all I want. I want us back. The version before all the feelings got tangled."
The girls fell silent again, but this time, the silence felt lighter.
Not because it was easy, but because it was clear.
Three hearts. One truth.
Letting go wasn't a weakness. It was love in its most selfless form.