episode 8... the crush ❤️
723 Words
Penny didn’t show up to book club and that was enough to make half the town whisper, because Penny always showed up, always with oatmeal cookies and an apologetic smile, always tucking her hair behind her ear like she didn’t belong but came anyway, and when she didn’t, the space felt a little too quiet.
Sage noticed first—she always noticed quiet things—and by noon she was on Penny’s porch with a jar of soup, fingers curled around the lid like it might do the talking for her, and Hailey was already there, arms crossed with a box of tissues and a copy of GlamFarm Weekly, muttering something about Penny needing a distraction.
When Penny opened the door she looked tired, not sick, just worn out around the edges like a page that’s been turned too many times, and she smiled small, said, “I’m okay, really, just needed to press pause,” and Sage nodded like that made perfect sense, because it did.
Hailey didn’t say much, just walked inside like she hadn’t been planning to stay but found herself wiping crumbs off the counter anyway, and when Leah arrived twenty minutes later with loose-leaf tea and a sketchbook, no one questioned it.
They sat in Penny’s living room, sipping tea and letting the quiet stretch like sunlight on a sleepy afternoon, until laughter bubbled through the walls, high and careless and unmistakably from Vincent and Jas.
“They’ve been playing together more lately,” Penny said, voice soft like she was sharing a secret she didn’t want to lose, “It’s sweet.”
Later, when Penny fell asleep mid-sentence with a blanket tucked around her shoulders and the tea half-finished in her hand, the three of them slipped out onto the porch, walked down toward the schoolyard and leaned against the fence like they’d done it a hundred times before.
Vincent and Jas were sitting in the grass, heads close, passing a dog-eared book between them and pointing at the pictures like they were trying to solve a mystery only they understood.
“I didn’t know they still liked picture books,” Leah murmured, watching them like they were part of one of her sketches come to life.
“They pretend they’re too cool,” Hailey said, “but she gave him half her cookie yesterday when she thought no one was looking.”
Sage smiled at that, her arms folded gently as she leaned on the post. “They look at each other like they’re pretending not to.”
Jas nudged Vincent’s shoulder and he rolled his eyes dramatically, but didn’t move away, just reached into his pocket and pulled out something clumsy and homemade—a bracelet made from twine and mismatched beads, slightly crooked and absolutely perfect—and handed it over like it didn’t mean anything at all.
Jas blinked, took it, and shoved it into her pocket with a little shrug like she didn’t care, but her smile gave her away, and the three women on the fence knew exactly what they were seeing.
“Oh my god,” Hailey whispered, lips curling into something too warm to be sarcasm, “they’re literally crushing.”
“No way,” Leah said, but her voice caught just a little.
“Yes way,” Sage replied, her gaze soft like petals falling.
They watched in silence as the kids stood up, brushing grass from their knees and running off toward the house, their laughter trailing behind them like a kite string caught in the wind, and Hailey exhaled, arms loosening from her chest like she hadn’t realized they’d been tense.
“I hope they stay friends,” she said, almost to herself, “they make this town feel… less small.”
And Sage, watching the way Jas turned back for just one second to look at Vincent like he was something steady in a spinning world, thought maybe the smallest things were the ones that stayed longest.
Leah’s fingers twitched like they were already carving the moment into wood.
Hailey kicked a pebble with her boot and asked, “You wanna be the one to tell Penny they’re in love?”
Sage just laughed, slow and golden, and said, “Let’s give them a few more days—first crushes deserve a little privacy.”
- Writer
