I Move On Instantly

New Year’s Day, I visited my childhood friend’s home.

Archer extended a hand from the bathroom, his voice languid, “Asteria, could you grab my pajamas?”

His mom, spatula in hand, burst out of the kitchen. “How old are you? Asteria’s a girl, you know, you should avoid impropriety.”

Archer emerged, wrapped in a towel, utterly unfazed. “What’s the big deal?”

He wasn’t wrong. This was our third year of a secret relationship.