By the time the bus finally pulls into town, I’m running on caffeine, adrenaline, and about three hours of sleep. The whole ride home, I kept checking my phone, texting her. Checking it again. Waiting. Nothing. Lena always replies. Even if it’s just an emoji or a “later.” But today? Silence. And that silence sits wrong in my chest. When I turn onto my street, I see it immediately. Her car. In my driveway.
I blink, confused for half a second. We didn’t make plans. I would’ve remembered. But the second the confusion hits, it’s replaced by something else. Relief. I’m not mad she’s here. I’m glad. I grab my bag and head inside, pushing open the door quietly in case she’s asleep. She’s not. She’s on my couch, propped up with pillows, watching The Mummy like it’s the most normal thing in the wo
