Natalie learned time by sound.
Six p.m. was the click of her bedroom door closing, the soft whirr of her computer fan, and the familiar ding of a Minecraft notification.
Every day. Exactly six.
"Nat! I found diamonds!" Ashton's voice crackled through her headset, always too loud, always excited.
She laughed, pushing her glasses up her nose as her character sprinted across the pixelated grass. "You say that every day."
"Yeah, but this time I actually did."
They'd met in elementary school over a shared computer during free time-two kids who didn't quite fit anywhere else. Natalie liked quiet corners and drawing lyrics in the margins of her notebooks. Ashton liked building worlds where nothing could fall apart unless you let it.
Minecraft became their thing.
They built houses side by side. Then castles. Then an entire world with signs that said Natalie's Farm and Ashton's Base-Do Not Touch.
When Natalie's mom called her for dinner, Ashton always said, "Same time tomorrow?"
And she always answered, "Six."
She didn't know back then that routines could become memories. Or that memories could ache.
