Between Us

☆ part eight ☆

The school hallway buzzed with the usual Monday morning chaos—lockers slamming, conversations overlapping, and the faint scent of someone's overly enthusiastic application of cologne wafting through the air. My footsteps echoed softly as I walked toward the main hallway, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. It didn't take long to spot them—Lark and Oakley stood by Oakley's locker, leaning casually against the dull green metal. Their conversation seemed serious, Lark's arms crossed tightly over her chest while Oakley gestured animatedly about something. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but Lark's face was drawn, her gaze flickering down the hall like she was looking for an escape. As I approached, Lark's eyes landed on mine, and for a moment, they widened slightly in recognition. She immediately mumbled something under her breath to Oakley, her body already turning as if she planned to slip away. No, not this time. I quickened my steps, calling out before she could get too far. "Hey, guys!"

Oakley turned to face me, his face lighting up with his usual cheerful grin. "Hey, Soph!" he said, throwing his arm out dramatically like he was about to give me a standing ovation. "What's up? How was your date on Sunday?"

"Good," I said, smiling as I stopped in front of them. "How was the rest of your day?" Before Oakley could respond, Lark glanced at me briefly, offering a weak smile. "Hey," she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the hallway noise. Then, without waiting for more, she muttered something about needing to go and turned on her heel, disappearing into the crowd.

I stood there, watching her retreating back as a strange pang settled in my chest. She hadn't even waited. Oakley must have noticed my expression because he immediately slung a friendly arm around my shoulders, giving me a light squeeze. "Don't take it to heart," he said, his tone kind. "She's just cranky today. Finished volunteering at the animal shelter late last night, and you know how she gets when she doesn't get enough sleep."

I nodded slowly, forcing a smile that I didn't quite feel. "Right. That makes sense." But even as I said the words, a part of me felt unsettled. This wasn't just about being tired—at least, it didn't feel like it. Lark had been distant with me for weeks now, and every interaction we had only seemed to make the gap between us wider. I thought Saturday night would have changed things.

Oakley gave me a reassuring nudge. "Don't worry about her. She'll bounce back. She always does. Come on, walk me to class? I need moral support for this quiz I'm totally not prepared for."

I laughed softly despite myself. "Sure," I said, letting him steer me down the hallway. But as we walked, my thoughts stayed firmly on Lark and the fleeting, half-hearted smile she'd given me before walking away. Something was wrong—I just didn't know what.

As Oakley and I walked down the hallway, he started rambling about his weekend plans, how he'd spent Sunday trying to teach his dog a new trick, and how miserably it had failed. I couldn't help but smile at his antics—Oakley always knew how to lift my spirits, even when my thoughts were elsewhere. "Anyway," he said, nudging my arm playfully, "I've been thinking about something."

"What's that?" I asked, shifting my backpack on my shoulder.

"Well, you know how things have been kinda...weird lately?" He gave me a knowing look, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Weird how?" I asked cautiously.

Oakley shrugged. "You know, just everyone doing their own thing, not hanging out as much. I was thinking, maybe we need to do something to bring the group back together. Like old times."

"That's not a bad idea," I said, my curiosity piqued. "What did you have in mind?"

He grinned, the kind of grin that usually meant trouble—or, at the very least, some overly ambitious scheme. "So, my parents have been talking about letting me use the lake house for a weekend. I was thinking, why not make it a group trip? Just the six of us, no drama, just fun."

"Wait, the lake house?" I said, my excitement growing. "Are you serious? Oakley, that's perfect. That's like our group's dream getaway spot!"

He chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. "I thought you'd say that. You think everyone else would be up for it?"

"Are you kidding? Of course, we would be," I said, my enthusiasm spilling over. "We haven't done anything like that in forever. I think it's exactly what we need."

Oakley nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Alright then. I'll talk to my parents tonight and figure out when we can go. I'll let everyone know once I have a date."

I couldn't help but grin. "This is going to be amazing."

"Only if you promise to help me make sure everyone actually shows up," he said, giving me a mock-serious look. "You know how some people can be."

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'll make sure of it."

As we reached his classroom, he turned to me with a satisfied look. "Alright, Soph. Operation Lake House is officially in motion. Get ready to pack your bags."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've already got a name for it?"

"Of course. Every good plan needs a name," he said with a wink before disappearing into the classroom.

As I walked to my own class, Oakley's words stuck in my mind, buzzing like an idea I couldn't let go of. A lake house trip. A whole weekend away. It sounded like the kind of escape I desperately needed—something to cut through the strange tension that had settled in our group. But even as I thought about the trip, my mind kept circling back to tonight. Monday. Dinner at the Andersons'. It had been a tradition since Liam and I started dating—Karen always insisted on having me over at least once a week, and Mondays had become our routine.

The idea of sitting at the same table as Lark, making small talk, trying to ignore the thick, invisible wall between us...it was enough to make my stomach twist. But maybe, just maybe, tonight could be a chance to talk to her. To actually ask her what was wrong instead of dancing around the subject like I'd been doing for weeks. What if I just confronted her? Pulled her aside after dinner and asked her why she'd been so distant, why her smiles felt more like apologies? The thought made my palms sweat. Talking to Lark wasn't supposed to be this hard. She was my best friend. Or at least, she used to be. I sighed, shaking my head as I stepped into my classroom. The familiar hum of chatter and shuffling papers pulled me out of my thoughts, and I quickly made my way to my desk near the middle of the room. Sliding into my seat, I set my backpack down and stared blankly at the empty notebook in front of me.

Get it together, Sophie, I thought to myself. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the lesson ahead, my mind kept wandering—back to Lark, back to the Andersons' dining room table, back to the endless possibility of that lake house trip. I tapped my pen against the desk, forcing myself to sit up straighter and focus on the now. Tonight would come soon enough. Whether or not I'd actually be brave enough to say something to Lark was a question I wasn't ready to answer.