The days continued to pass, winter settling in deeper with each breath of icy wind that rattled against the windows. Rowan found himself shifting his focus away from Oliver and Ivy, forcing himself to channel his energy elsewhere. If fixing things around the house had been a distraction, then throwing himself into his science blog was the next logical step.

With each new post, his following grew. People from all over were commenting, asking questions, engaging with his theories and experiments. He had even received an invitation to a local youth science fair, something that excited and intimidated him all at once.

"You should totally do it," Aria said one evening over dinner. "It's an amazing opportunity."

"Yeah, man," Jake agreed. "You've been putting in the work. It's time to show it off."

Rowan hesitated, twirling his fork in his mashed potatoes. "I don't know. It's kind of a big deal, isn't it? I mean, what if I mess up?"

Aria smiled warmly. "Messing up is part of learning. Besides, it's not about winning. It's about sharing what you love."

That night, Rowan sat at his desk, staring at the invitation. He imagined himself standing in front of a panel of judges, explaining his work, demonstrating his latest experiment. Could he do it? Would he let himself do it?

With a deep breath, he clicked the acceptance button.

The next afternoon, he headed to the library to start preparing his presentation. He had barely sat down and pulled out his notes when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, science guy."

Rowan looked up, surprised to see Ivy standing in front of him, her auburn hair tucked behind her ear, a friendly smirk on her face.

"Uh, hey," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

She slid into the seat across from him, eyeing his notebook. "Oliver told me about your science fair thing. That's pretty cool."

"Thanks, I guess."

Ivy tilted her head, watching him carefully. "You know, he really looks up to you."

Rowan blinked. "What?"

"Oliver. He talks about you all the time. Says you're the smartest person he knows. That's kind of a big deal."

Rowan felt something tighten in his chest. "He's exaggerating."

Ivy chuckled. "Maybe. But I don't think so."

There was a brief moment of silence before she tapped his notebook. "Anyway, I actually came over here to ask if you needed any help. I'm not a scientist or anything, but I'm a decent organizer. If you need a second pair of eyes on your presentation, I'm your girl."

Rowan studied her for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. That... actually sounds great. Thanks."

Maybe this was what he needed - a fresh perspective, a new focus. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to start letting go of things he couldn't change.

Avoiding the cost of paying a repairman is incentive enough to roll up one's sleeves and do some self-repairs. One evening, Rowan invited Oliver over to help fix the dishwasher that had been acting up for weeks. It was a mess of tools, wires, and soap suds, but the laughter between them made it worth it.

"You sure this isn't going to explode?" Oliver teased, tightening a bolt.

"Pretty sure. And if it does, at least we'll go down in a bubble-filled blaze of glory," Rowan shot back, grinning.

They crouched in front of the open dishwasher, Rowan holding a flashlight while Oliver unscrewed the base panel. A small puddle of water had already gathered on the floor, making the whole situation feel even more like an impending disaster.

"Okay, so according to the manual, it could be a clogged drain hose or a problem with the pump," Rowan muttered, scanning his phone.

Oliver wiggled the hose experimentally. "Doesn't look clogged, but let's check. Pass me that screwdriver."

Rowan handed it over, watching as Oliver pried the hose loose. The moment it detached, a sudden rush of water gushed out, soaking Oliver's sleeve.

"Oh, come on!" Oliver groaned, shaking his arm as Rowan burst into laughter.

"You should've seen your face!" Rowan wheezed, doubling over.

Oliver shot him a mock glare but grinned as he grabbed a towel. "Glad you're entertained."

Once they had cleaned up the spill, Rowan leaned in, watching Oliver tinker with the pump. "I think it's the motor not engaging properly. See how the wires here look loose?"

Oliver gave him an impressed look. "Look at you, Mr. Handyman."

Rowan smirked. "Guess all this fixing stuff around the house is paying off."

They worked together, tightening connections and reassembling the parts, falling into an easy rhythm of teamwork. It was the kind of thing they had always done - solving problems together, laughing through the chaos.

By the time they got the dishwasher running again, Oliver clapped a hand on Rowan's shoulder.

"Dude, we might actually be handiness geniuses."

Rowan smirked. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

As Oliver grabbed his coat to leave, Rowan realized something: he was okay. Oliver was happy, and he was finding happiness in his own way too. Maybe fixing things - dishwashers, feelings, life - was just about taking things one step at a time.