Chapter 6 Gabby's POV

I really miss Sydney. I knew something was wrong long before today---long before she started pulling away from me for good. It began around the same time she stopped hanging out with me and started dressing differently, almost like she was trying to disappear inside herself. Sydney used to be vibrant. She used to laugh easily, talk with her hands, and light up a room without even trying. Then, little by little, that version of her started fading, and I could never figure out why.

I noticed the changes in her before most people probably did. Her hair shifted into the prettiest strawberry blonde, and her eyes turn this striking violet-purple that made her look almost unreal. She was beautiful, more than beautiful, really---but even then something felt off. It wasn't the kind of change that comes with growing up. It was like her light was being swallowed up from the inside. Over the last few years, her hair lost some of its shine, her skin lost some of its glow, and even when she smiled, it never fully reached her eyes. I kept waiting for her to tell me what was going on, because that's what best friends are supposed to do. But she never did.

These days, when I see her at school, she still says hi and asks how I'm doing, but I'm always the one who has to start the conversation. And even then, it never lasts more than a few sentences before she finds a reason to leave. At first, I told myself maybe she was just busy, or stressed, or dealing with something she wasn't ready to share. But the longer it went on, the harder it became to ignore the feeling in my gut that something bigger was going on. Something she thought she had to carry alone.

That's why I was so relieved when she agreed to come with me today. I could tell it took some coaxing, but she still said yes, and that had to mean something. For a little while in the dress shop, it felt like we slipped right back into being us, laughing, teasing each other, and talking like no time had passed. I didn't realize how badly I needed that until it happened. It felt good to have my best friend back, even if it was only for an afternoon.

Still, I can feel it, that quiet tension sitting behind her smile, like one wrong question might make everything crack open. And if that happens, I'm ready. I don't care what she's been hiding or how messy it is. Whatever Sydney is going through, she is not going through it alone anymore. I made that promise to myself the second I saw her smile for real today. From this point on, I'm her ride or die, forever and always. I'm going to make sure she knows that before this day is over.

I keep thinking about how we used to be before everything changed. Sydney and I used to do everything together. We'd eat lunch together at school when the weather was nice, share fries after class, and talk for hours about things that felt huge at the time, graduation, our wolves, our futures, whether our mates would be sweet or annoying or both. She used to tell me everything. Even when something embarrassed her, she'd still end up laughing and blurting it out. That's how I know this distance between us isn't normal. Sydney doesn't shut people out unless she thinks she has no choice.

There were little things too, things that kept bothering me because they didn't add up. She started wearing long sleeves on warm days. If I reached for her arm, she'd flinch before she could stop herself. Loud noises made her shoulders tense, and anytime someone mentioned home, she'd change the subject so fast it made my chest ache. Once, I asked if she wanted to come over and study like we used to, as you looked almost panicked before she told me she couldn't. That was the moment I knew this wasn't just stress or moodiness. Something was happening, and whatever it was, it had taught my best friend to be afraid.

By the time we finally paid for our dresses and stepped back outside, the late afternoon air had turned soft and cool. Early spring sunlight stretched gold across the sidewalks, and for a second everything looked so normal that it almost hurt. Sydney hugged her bag close to her side like she was guarding something precious. She smiled when I joked about us stealing the show at the ball, but the smile faded too quickly. I noticed the way her eyes kept drifting, not to the town around us, but back toward the road that would eventually take her home. Like part of her was already bracing for whatever waited there.

So I made myself a promise as we headed toward the coffee shop: I wasn't going to push too hard, and I wasn't going to let my worries scare her off. If Sydney wanted to talk, I would listen. If she needed time, I would give it to her. But I wasn't going to pretend anymore that I didn't see the cracks. Whatever truth was sitting behind those tired eyes, I was going to meet it with love first. Because if she had spent all the time feeling alone, the very least I could do was make sure the next thing she felt was safe.