Jane
Time became strange. The sound of the rain had settled into a dull roar overhead, like waves crashing against the roof. The storm had found its rhythm, steady and relentless, and somewhere between the crackling thunder and the quiet companionship of that ugly couch, I forgot to check the time. My phone sat useless in my bag. No signal. No clock. Just the soft hum of the vending machine and the occasional creak of the building as it shifted in the wind.
We didn’t speak.
I sat curled up, arms wrapped around my knees, chin resting just above them. Austin was beside me, stretched out with one ankle propped on his opposite knee, arms folded behind his head. For once, he didn’t fill the silence with teasing or cocky remarks. He didn’t fidget or pace or make a joke just to see me roll my
