Saturday mornings in our house usually meant one thing. Cleaning. And not the quick kind where you sweep one corner and pretend the rest of the house doesn't exist. No. Mum believed in proper cleaning—the kind that made the entire house look like it had just been built that morning.
The problem was that neither of us had time for it all week. I had been buried under school work and our literature project, while Mum had been swallowed whole by her long shifts at the clinic. So Saturday became our battlefield.
By eight in the morning, the house was already alive with activity. I was in the living room with a broom, sweeping under the couch while Mum wiped the windows.
"Sharon," she called from the other side of the room, "did you check under the table?"
"I'm literally under it right now," I replied.
Dust puffed up into the air as I dragged the broom through the corner.
"Where does all this dust even come from?" I muttered.
"From people who live in houses," Mum replied calmly.
I laughed.
Soon the music was playing softly from Mum's phone as we worked—sweeping, dusting, rearranging furniture, cleaning the kitchen, and wiping surfaces that hadn't seen proper attention in days.
At one point Mum stood back in the middle of the living room and placed her hands on her hips.
"Now this," she said proudly, "is a respectable house."
I collapsed onto the couch dramatically.
"I feel like I just survived a military training program."
She chuckled.
"Well, soldier, breakfast is ready."
By the time we finished everything and sat down to eat, the clock on the wall read 12:02 p.m.
"Technically," I said, looking at the time, "this is brunch."
Mum shrugged.
"Food is food."
We had just started eating when the doorbell rang.
Mum glanced at me.
"You expecting someone?"
"No."
I walked over and opened the door.
Amanda stood there with the brightest grin imaginable.
"Surprise!"
"Amanda?" I blinked.
She stepped inside immediately.
"I was bored," she said simply.
I laughed.
"Well, come in then."
Mum greeted her warmly before heading back to the kitchen.
Amanda and I went upstairs to my room, where the real chaos began. Within minutes we were sprawled across my bed talking about everything and nothing at the same time. School gossip. Chris being dramatic. Daniel's constant calmness. And of course—Ethan.
"So," Amanda said, narrowing her eyes slightly, "what do you think about the new guy?"
I shrugged casually.
"He's… nice."
Amanda smirked.
"Nice?"
"Yes."
"That's the best description you have?"
I threw a pillow at her.
We laughed, talked, tried on random clothes from my closet, and even attempted doing each other's hair—which ended in disaster.
After a while Amanda sat up suddenly.
"You know what we should do?"
"What?"
"Visit the others."
I tilted my head.
"Now?"
"Why not? We should all know where everyone lives anyway."
That actually made sense. A few minutes later, we were on our way.
Chris lived closer than I expected, and the moment he opened the door and saw us, he burst out laughing.
"Well look who decided to visit!"
Amanda pushed past him.
"Move."
We stayed only briefly before heading to Daniel's place, where we planned to gather properly.
Daniel welcomed us warmly.
"Perfect timing," he said. "I was just finishing some work."
Soon Chris joined us too, and the four of us were sitting comfortably in Daniel's living room. But something was missing. Ethan.
Amanda picked up her phone.
"I'll text him."
She typed quickly. No response. Chris tried calling. Nothing.
Daniel frowned slightly.
"That's strange."
We waited a while.
Still nothing.
Eventually we gave up and continued talking.
Almost an hour later, Daniel's phone rang. Ethan.
Daniel answered and put the call on speaker.
"Hey," Ethan's voice said from the other end. "Sorry I missed your messages."
"Where were you?" Chris asked.
"My neighbor's car broke down earlier," Ethan explained. "I helped him fix it."
"That explains it," Amanda said.
"Well," Daniel continued, "we're all at my place. Come join us."
There was a short pause.
"Uh… where exactly is that?" Ethan asked.
We all laughed. Right. He didn't know where Daniel lived.
Chris looked toward me.
"Sharon knows the junction where we usually split after school."
Amanda grinned.
"She can bring him."
I blinked.
"Wait—me?"
"Yeah," Chris said. "It's close."
I hesitated slightly.
Daniel noticed.
"I would go," he said, "but I'm finishing something for my dad."
Amanda nudged me playfully.
"You'll survive."
After a moment, I nodded.
"Fine."
The walk to the junction felt longer than usual. Not because it was far. But because I suddenly felt strangely nervous. Why am I nervous? I wondered. He's just Ethan.
When I reached the junction, I spotted him almost immediately. He was standing near the streetlight, hands in his pockets, looking around like someone trying to memorize unfamiliar streets.
When he saw me, his face relaxed slightly.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi."
For a moment we just stood there. Then we both laughed awkwardly.
"So… you found the place," he said.
"Yeah."
"Thanks for coming."
"No problem."
We started walking back toward Daniel's house.
At first, the conversation flowed normally.
"How was your morning?" I asked.
"Busy," he replied. "That car repair took longer than expected."
Then the silence returned.
Not uncomfortable exactly. Just… strange.
We both seemed to be thinking about what to say next. At the same time.
At one point we both spoke.
"You first," he said.
"No—you."
We laughed again.
But the air between us still carried that odd awkwardness. Like two quiet people trying to navigate a conversation neither of them had planned.
Ahead of us, Daniel's street was already visible.
And somehow, the closer we got—The more aware I became of the quiet space between our words.