Back To You

When paths cross (15)

It had been a few days since the movie night — since Tayler texted me from across the room like we were still seventeen and sneaking around during group hangouts.

I hadn't seen him since. Not really.

A few passing glances. A casual wave when I dropped something off for Olivia. But nothing like that night.

Then, earlier this afternoon, he texted.

Tayler:
free later? wanna get food or something?

Me:
depends. are you asking me on a date or just "or something"?

Tayler:
relax. it's barely even a hangout.
but yes i'm paying so yes it's basically a date. shut up.

Me:
fine. pick me up at 7.

Tayler:
wear something casual.
but not like too casual.
idk. you always look good anyway.

I read that last message twice before locking my phone.

—

We ended up at this burger place downtown — one of those old-school spots with twinkly lights in the windows and hand-cut fries that came in little tin baskets. It was lowkey and mostly empty, the perfect place to pretend we were just two normal people with no history and no awkward tension buzzing under the surface.

But that wasn't really true.

Because there was tension. Not awkward anymore — just charged.

He opened the door for me. Paid without asking. Let me steal a fry before he even touched his own. Little things that didn't feel little at all.

"This place is cute," I said, sipping my soda. "Didn't peg you as the string-light type."

Tayler raised a brow. "I have layers, Madison. I'm not just brooding hoodies and emotional damage."

I snorted. "That's mostly what you are."

"Fair."

We sat in a booth near the window, talking between bites — about Nate's failed cooking attempt last night, Olivia's weird obsession with ghost documentaries lately, and how Cody was convinced his phone was listening to him because he got a targeted ad for toenail clippers after one conversation.

It was easy. Natural.

And the whole time, Tayler kept looking at me like he was still discovering me. Like maybe he'd forgotten who I really was and now he couldn't stop paying attention.

I didn't hate it.

—

We'd just finished eating when it happened.

We were stepping outside — Tayler holding the door for me again, his hand brushing my lower back like muscle memory — when someone called out:

"Yo! Tayler?"

We both turned.

And I swear, for a second, my brain just... froze.

Bryce.

He was crossing the street toward us, grinning in that easy, familiar way I hadn't seen in half a year. Slightly longer hair, same relaxed swagger, same dark hoodie I once "borrowed" and never returned. He looked good — and unfortunately, he knew it.

"Holy shit," Tayler said, stepping forward with a wide grin. "You're back!"

They hugged like actual best friends. Like people who talked even when they weren't in the same city. And maybe they had.

"Just got back yesterday," Bryce said. "Wasn't expecting to see anyone yet, but damn — this is perfect."

Then his eyes landed on me.