Austin
We didn’t talk when we left the porch. Not even once. I didn’t need to check if she was following me. I could feel her there, tense and quiet. Trying to be invisible. Except she wasn’t. Not to me.
I opened the car door for her without saying anything. She hesitated, one foot scraping the gravel. But she got in. Didn’t even look at me. I shut it a little harder than I meant to. Rounded the hood. When I slid into my seat, she was hugging her bag again. Staring at her knees. Like they had answers I never would.
I didn’t say anything. Just started the car. The engine roared, then settled into a low rumble. I pulled us out of the drive while people hooted behind us, someone smashing beer bottles against the curb.
We drove in silence for a while. The party noises faded. The bass was
