Jayden stood at his locker, the metal door creaking just like it had the last three years. Same hallway. Same half-working combination lock. But everything else felt different. He adjusted the strap on his backpack and glanced around. Senior year. The final lap.


“Yo! Senior!” Malik’s voice boomed behind him, all grin and gold chain as he tossed an arm around Jayden’s shoulder.


Jayden smirked. “Look at you. Already acting like you run the school.”


“I do run the school. They just haven’t printed my crown yet,” Malik joked, dapping up a few underclassmen as they walked by.


Jayden laughed, then spotted Eli approaching from the main doors, hoodie up despite the late-summer heat, earbuds in, backpack half-zipped. He looked the same. But quieter. Jayden noticed.


“Eli!” Malik called. Eli pulled out one earbud and offered a lopsided smile.


“First period and Malik’s already campaigning for Prom King?” Eli asked, sliding into place beside them.


“Gotta lock it down early,” Malik said. “Senior year moves fast.”


Jayden nodded. Too fast, maybe.


A few minutes later, Noah showed up—hair a little longer, hoodie tied around his waist, earbuds slung over his neck. He looked more confident, like someone who finally figured out how to walk in his own shoes.


“Morning, gents,” he said, fist-bumping the group.


And just like that, they were complete.



---


The four of them walked into homeroom together, same squad as always. But as they scanned the room, something felt off. The energy was… heavier. The kind that settles in when people realize time is ticking.


“I heard Ms. Vega’s assigning essays on where we see ourselves in five years,” Jayden muttered, settling into a desk.


“Five years?” Eli snorted. “I don’t even know what I’m eating for lunch today.”


“I do,” Malik said. “Fries. Large. With barbecue sauce. Like always.”


Jayden tried to laugh, but his eyes drifted toward the window. Outside, the sun was already high. Senior year had just begun, and already it felt like it was slipping away.



---


That afternoon, the boys met at their usual spot—Jayden’s driveway, leaning against the hood of his old car.


“So,” Noah said, tossing a basketball between his hands. “One last year. What’s the goal?”


“Graduate,” Malik said quickly.


“Live,” Eli added, raising an eyebrow.


Jayden looked at them. “Stay together.”


The others quieted for a moment. No jokes. No sarcasm. Just the weight of what he said.


“Yeah,” Noah said. “That too.”


They didn’t know what the year would bring. But for now, they were four corners of the same square. And they planned to hold it down—no matter what.