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Juliette leaned her head against the car window, watching as the familiar streets of her neighborhood passed by in a soft, early summer blur. The gentle rocking of the car felt soothing, but an underlying current of tension ran through her as she approached the reality of home—a place where everything seemed normal, yet she felt entirely different. Everything was different. It was surreal, really, how one evening had changed everything. She'd left for a party, and now, she was coming home to a new diagnosis. Epilepsy. It was still a strange, hollow word in her mind, echoing with uncertainty and fear. She didn't fully understand what it meant for her yet, just that her life might look different now. 

When the car pulled up in front of her house, Juliette's mother turned to her, offering a warm, knowing smile. 

"Take your time, petite," she said gently. "One step at a time." Juliette nodded, returning her mother's smile with a small one of her own. She pushed open the car door, stepping into the comforting familiarity of her porch. It was strange how, even after everything, the world around her stayed the same. Only she felt different.

Once inside, Juliette went straight to her room. She glanced around, her curtains softly framing her window, her favourite books stacked neatly on her desk, and her ballet bag hanging on a hook by the door. Her room felt like a time capsule, untouched by the recent turmoil. She took a deep breath, letting the calm seep into her. After unpacking her things from hospital, Juliette pulled on some leggings and a hoodie. She didn't feel ready to confront everything just yet. Instead, she needed to dance, to lose herself in movement, to connect with something familiar and grounding. She pulled her hair back and glanced in the mirror. For a brief moment, she was able to push aside her thoughts, focusing only on the steps. She let the music flood her mind. As she danced, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease, her movements becoming softer, more natural. The world around her melted away, and for a little while, she was just Juliette, dancing like she always had.

Later that afternoon, Juliette's mother suggested they take the dog for a walk. The suggestion was more than welcome; Juliette knew her mum wanted to talk, but walking gave them both something light to focus on. They strolled along the quiet paths next to the seine, watching as Monty darted ahead, his nose busy with every scent the autumn breeze carried. The neighborhood was bathed in the golden hues of early evening, the air warm yet crisp. Her mother spoke first. 

"It must feel like a lot to come to terms with, petite." Juliette nodded, looking down at her shoes, unsure of how much to say. 

"Yeah... I don't know. It just feels strange, like I'm the same but not. Does that make sense?" Her mother nodded, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. 

"Completely. It's only natural to feel that way." She paused, glancing at Juliette's face. "Have you talked to anyone about it? Tegan?" Juliette hesitated, her thoughts drifting back to Tegan. She hadn't talked to Tegan in detail yet, not about the diagnosis or about the other confusing emotions swirling inside her. She realized she wanted to tell her, needed to, but the words weren't ready yet.

"I'll tell her soon," Juliette said quietly. Then, after a pause, she added, "I did talk to her about...about Matthieu. The party." Her mother glanced at her with a hint of surprise but nodded, letting her continue.

"I... I thought he was someone I liked. For a long time, actually. But then, when we finally... when we kissed, it just felt wrong. I felt disgusted." She looked away, feeling embarrassed to say it out loud. "I don't even know why. He was nice, but it felt... all wrong. I guess I'd just imagined it all in my head." Her mother listened quietly, her expression softening as she processed her daughter's words. 

"Sometimes, what we feel for people isn't as simple as we think it is," she replied gently. "Maybe it's not about Matthieu at all. Maybe it's about finding who you really are and who you connect with deeply, without any expectations." Juliette looked down, mulling over her mother's words. 

"Yeah... maybe." They continued walking in comfortable silence, the dog trotting ahead with his ears perked up, enjoying every moment. As they neared home, her mother glanced at her, eyes bright with an idea.

"Oh, I meant to tell you. There's a new Omar Sy film coming out soon. I think Tegan would love it too—it's right up her alley. We could invite her to watch it with us?" A small smile broke across Juliette's face. 

"Yeah, I think she'd like that. I'll ask her." Her mother returned her smile, a knowing glint in her eye that made Juliette feel as if she was onto something Juliette herself hadn't realized yet. But she chose not to think about it too hard. For now, all she wanted was the comfort of being with her family and a plan to see Tegan again.

That evening, Juliette lay awake, her room cast in shadow, her mind buzzing with thoughts she couldn't quiet. She tossed and turned, unable to shake a nagging anxiety that seemed to have taken root deep inside her. She checked her phone—1:45 a.m. It was late, and she needed to sleep, but her mind wouldn't let her. Suddenly, a distant wail of sirens pierced the quiet of the night, growing louder as the ambulance sped down the nearby street. The sound jolted her, flooding her mind with memories of the last three days, the antiseptic scent, the beeping machines, and the blurry, panicked faces of doctors. Her chest tightened, her breathing shallow and rapid as she gripped her sheets. Before she knew it, she was sitting upright, clutching her chest, struggling to breathe, to slow down her racing heart. Panic washed over her, overwhelming her senses, her thoughts spiraling in an uncontrollable descent. In her panic, her fingers fumbled for her phone. She unlocked it with shaking hands, her mind focusing on one thought: Tegan. She needed Tegan. She needed her now. The phone rang, each ring stretching endlessly, until finally, she heard the familiar voice on the other end.

"Tegan... I'm sorry, I know it's late," she choked out, her voice wavering with panic. "But I need you here. Please? I'm... I'm freaking out." There was a pause, and Tegan's voice, laced with sleep but filled with warmth, broke through the phone. 

"Juliette, I'm here. I'm on my way." Juliette let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her at Tegan's response. 

"Promise?" she whispered back, needing the reassurance.

"Promise," Tegan repeated. "I'll be there soon." Juliette ended the call, her hands still trembling, but with each breath, the thought of Tegan coming steadied her slightly. She wrapped herself in her blanket, her heart rate gradually slowing, though the anxiety remained a constant hum in the back of her mind.

Fifteen minutes later, a soft knock on the front door pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. Juliette rushed down the stairs. Tegan was there, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, her hair messy and eyes wide with worry. Juliette hurried to unlock the window, letting her friend inside and taking her up to her room. Without a word, Tegan wrapped Juliette in a tight hug. The warmth of her embrace, the quiet strength she offered, was exactly what Juliette needed. She clung to Tegan, feeling the tension slowly drain from her body as they stood there, wrapped in each other's presence.

"I'm here," Tegan whispered, her voice a soothing balm. "I told you, didn't I? I'm here." Juliette took a shaky breath, pulling back just enough to look into Tegan's eyes. 

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you." Tegan gave her a small smile, brushing a tear from Juliette's cheek. 

"You don't have to do anything without me. I'm here, always." They sat together on Juliette's bed, their hands still intertwined as if neither of them wanted to let go. Tegan stayed quiet, giving Juliette the space to collect herself, to breathe. After a few moments, Juliette found her voice. 

"I... I just can't stop thinking about it. The hospital, the diagnosis, everything. I feel like I'm not even myself anymore, like everything I thought I was is just... slipping away. It's Epilepsy. That's what they told me. I'm so so lost." Tegan squeezed her hand gently, her gaze steady and reassuring. 

"You're still you, Juliette. Epilepsy doesn't change that. You're strong, you're kind, you're talented. Those things don't just disappear because of  a diagnosis." Juliette's heart warmed at Tegan's words, but a part of her still felt fragile, as if she might break at any moment. She leaned her head on Tegan's shoulder, drawing strength from her friend's quiet presence. They sat like that for a while, wrapped in a comforting silence, until Juliette's breathing steadied completely, and her heartbeat finally slowed to a normal rhythm.

"You know," Tegan said softly, breaking the silence, "if you ever need me, no matter the time, I'll be here. I'll always be here." Juliette looked up, catching Tegan's gaze, her heart swelling with gratitude—and something else she couldn't quite name. 

"Thank you, Tegan. Really." Tegan smiled, her hand resting gently on Juliette's back. 

"That's what friends are for. Besides, I know you'd do the same for me." They shared a quiet laugh, the tension of the night fading away. Juliette felt a calmness settle over her, the worries of her diagnosis and the fear of the future pushed back, replaced by the steady reassurance of her friend's presence. As they lay side by side on Juliette's bed, the darkness of the night softened by the glow of the moon filtering through the window, Juliette finally felt a sense of peace. And as she drifted off to sleep, her hand still resting lightly in Tegan's, she couldn't help but feel that, somehow, everything might just be okay.