The party had been a night to remember, but as the last guests trickled out and the music faded into the background, Rowan found himself standing on the back porch, looking out at the vast sky. The weight of everything - the past, the future, the inescapable now - settled over him like the cool evening breeze.

He heard footsteps behind him, light but familiar. "Thought I'd find you out here," Oliver said, stepping up beside him. He held two cans of soda, offering one to Rowan. "Figured we deserved a toast."

Rowan took the can, popping it open with a soft hiss. "To what?"

Oliver smirked, bumping his can against Rowan's. "To surviving birthdays, looking ridiculously good while aging up, and whatever the hell comes next."

Rowan chuckled, taking a sip. "That's a solid toast."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the crickets in the distance. The house behind them was still alive with the lingering energy of celebration, but here, outside, it was just them.

Oliver shifted slightly. "You know? this whole 'young adult' thing feels weird. Like, suddenly, we're supposed to have our futures all figured out."

Rowan exhaled, staring at the horizon. "Yeah. It's a lot. But I don't think we have to have it all figured out. Just... take it one step at a time."

Oliver gave him a side glance. "Says the guy with the entire science world knocking on his door."

Rowan smirked. "And yet, here I am. In Appaloosa Plains. Drinking soda with you."

Oliver's expression softened, something unspoken passing between them. "You staying, then?"

Rowan thought about it - Bridgeport, the invitations, the opportunities lined up ahead of him. He had spent so long thinking he had to leave to be successful, but now?

"Yeah," he said, voice steady. "I'm staying."

Oliver grinned, nudging him playfully. "Good. 'Cause I was prepared to make an overly dramatic speech about how you belong here."

Rowan laughed, rolling his eyes. "You? Dramatic? Never."

Oliver gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you?"

They both laughed, and in that moment, everything felt right. The future wasn't set in stone, but it didn't need to be. They had time.

And whatever came next, Rowan knew he wouldn't face it alone.

A few days after the party, Rowan received an unexpected email from a well-known video game developer, offering him a spot on their research and development team. Apparently, his science blog had caught their attention, and they were impressed with his innovative thinking and problem-solving skills.

"Damn, Rowan. The nerds are really coming for you now," Oliver joked when Rowan showed him the email.

Rowan laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, I get why it's cool, but? this isn't what I want. You know I've had my heart set on environmental science since I was a kid."

Oliver smirked. "So, you're really just out here rejecting dream job offers left and right?"

"Not my dream job," Rowan corrected. "But hey, at least I've officially achieved the highest nerd status in all of Appaloosa Plains."

Oliver leaned back, arms crossed. "Most nerd status and most eligible bachelor. Impressive."

Rowan rolled his eyes but smiled. He knew exactly where he belonged, and soon enough, his real dream job - his perfect job - would be just within reach.

While working late one evening in his home lab, Rowan stumbled upon an idea that could revolutionize sleep science - a bed capable of inducing specific dreams through targeted neuro-stimulation. The concept was rooted in his studies of neural oscillations and subconscious suggestion, a growing field of cognitive neuroscience.

Using a series of electromagnetic pulses, the bed could guide the sleeper's brain waves into specific dream states. By adjusting the frequencies, users could experience anything from lucid dreams of adventure to calming, meditative relaxation.

Oliver watched as Rowan fine-tuned the first prototype, wires snaking from the control panel to a mattress lined with hidden sensory nodes. "So, let me get this straight - you built a bed that tells people what to dream about?"

Rowan grinned. "More like... a bed that suggests dreams. The brain still does the heavy lifting, but this helps guide it. Think of it like setting the mood before sleep."

Oliver crossed his arms, smirking. "You know what this means, right?"

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Oliver leaned closer, his voice teasing. "You could program the hottest dreams. Like, imagine - "

Rowan shoved him, laughing. "Not what this was made for!"

Oliver waggled his eyebrows. "But it could be."

Rowan shook his head, amused. "Or, it could be used for therapeutic purposes - helping people with PTSD, reducing anxiety, improving memory retention."

Oliver sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. Science wins."

But deep down, Rowan knew this invention was special. It was a step toward something bigger, something groundbreaking. And for the first time, he could see a future where his innovations truly changed lives.

And he was ready for it.