THE SPACE BETWEEN SILENCE(6)
1045 Words
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Monica sat on the edge of her bed staring at the thin strip of light slipping through the curtains. Her phone rattled against the nightstand again, the screen flashing with Coach Humphrey’s name. Then another. And another. She let it buzz itself quietly. Once, she reached for it, thumb grazing the edge of the screen where a dozen unread messages stacked like accusations. She dropped it back with a thud and pressed her forehead to her knees. On the desk, the toast her mother had left had gone cold, the butter turned to a pale crust.
A soft knock came before the door creaked open. Monica’s mother stood in the doorway, cradling a half-empty coffee mug.
Monica didn’t look up. She stared at her phone as though it might offer an answer if she finally dared to open one of the messages.
Her mother crossed the room, set the mug down beside the untouched toast, and crouched to catch her daughter’s eyes.
“You’re not eating at all, are you? You barely ate yesterday too. What’s going on?”
Monica pulled her lips into a thin smile that never reached her eyes. “I’m just not hungry, Mom.”
Her mother brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, fingertips lingering. “You know you can talk to me if something’s wrong.”
Monica gave a small nod, eyes glassy but mouth shut. Words pressed at the back of her throat, but they wouldn’t come.
____
Annalise sat at the table, dragging her fork through her food without ever lifting a bite. Meredith and Erica swapped stories across her, their chatter bouncing back and forth while their father sipped his coffee.
Erica noticed first. “Wow, you’re eating slower than Dad. What’s up with you?” she teased, grinning.
Annalise didn’t answer. She just poked at her food, eyes far away.
Their mother’s smile slipped. “Sweetheart, you’ve barely touched your plate. Is something wrong?”
“It’s fine,” Annalise murmured. “I just don’t feel hungry.”
Meredith frowned, setting her fork down. Erica’s grin faltered too. Their father leaned back, studying her more closely.
“You’ve been really quiet lately,” Meredith said, softer this time. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Annalise’s throat tightened. She shoved the plate away and stood so quickly the chair screeched against the floor. “I’m done.”
Her mother started to rise, one hand half-extended, but Annalise slipped out of reach. The table stayed silent, the scrape of cutlery against dishes filling the space she left behind.
____
Miranda sank deeper into Beyoncé’s plush pink bed, twisting the frayed edge of her oversized hoodie between her fingers. She let out a sigh heavy enough to deflate her shoulders.
“I really don’t want to go back home,” she muttered. “My dad’s impossible. He wants me perfect at everything, and I’m just… tired. I don’t even want to look at him right now.”
Beyoncé, sprawled on her stomach with her phone, flicked her eyes up and gave a crooked smile. “Then don’t think about him. You’re here, with me. World’s coolest sleepover.” She bumped Miranda with her elbow. “I mean, look around the plush palace.”
A laugh slipped out of Miranda, quick but genuine. “Honestly, I love it here. Your family actually gets each other. Mine’s a mess.”
Beyoncé tossed her hair back with mock drama. “We’re not that perfect.” Then she hopped up, clicked the lock on her door, and went straight for the nightstand.
Miranda raised a brow, already guessing. “Seriously? Right now?”
Beyoncé smirked, holding up a little bottle. The liquid inside shimmered faintly.
“Ocean Water,” she said matter-of-factly, almost bragging.
Miranda groaned. “You smuggled ocean water? You’re unbelievable.”
But Beyoncé was already kneeling, splashing a little over her feet. Scales flickered instantly, tail blooming across the plush carpet in a cascade of silver-blue.
Miranda sat up straighter, but her voice was flat, not surprised. “You’re insane, you know that? What if your mom walks in?”
“Relax,” Beyoncé said, angling her phone like a practiced model. “If anyone sees, they’ll think it’s a costume.”
Miranda dragged her hands over her face. “One day, Beyoncé, you’re going to post the wrong thing, and then what?”
Beyoncé snapped a pouty selfie with her shimmering tail and grinned. “Then at least I’ll look fabulous.”
Before Miranda could say more, Beyoncé’s smile faded. “Annalise and Monica’s competition is almost here. How are they even going to participate like this?”
Miranda’s stomach knotted. “That’s only a week and three days away.” Her voice dropped. “What if it’s not safe for them? What if the water triggers the transformation in front of everyone?” She shook her head. “I can’t even begin to picture how this will play out. It could ruin everything for them.”
The room went quiet. Finally, Beyoncé lifted a shoulder. “If it was that bad, don’t you think they’d tell us?”
Miranda frowned, twisting the fabric of her hoodie. “Maybe. But then, why haven’t they given us any feedback? If they’ve discovered something new, shouldn’t they share it?”
Beyoncé sighed, tugging the towel off her nightstand and dabbing at her shimmering tail. “Miranda, come on. Annalise and Monica aren’t exactly our best friends. We’re tied together by this secret, yeah, but that doesn’t mean they owe us everything. Everyone’s still trying to wrap their heads around it.”
Miranda let out a shaky breath. “I just hate not knowing. And I don’t understand why we don’t transform in the shower or the bathtub anymore. Why only that first day?”
Beyoncé smirked, flicking her damp hair back. “Guess it’s a one-time-only preview. Like a movie trailer you’ll never see again.”
That pulled a reluctant laugh out of Miranda, but her worry didn’t ease. She stared down at her hands. “Still… something’s off. And if they don’t talk soon, I’ll figure it out myself.”
Beyoncé gave her a knowing grin. “Of course I know you will.”
- Writer
