Between Us

☆ part ten ☆

Larks pov

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the sound of the dishwasher humming faintly from downstairs. My plate sat untouched on my desk, lasagna cooling beside a stack of books I hadn't bothered to open. My stomach twisted—not with hunger, but with the weight of everything I couldn't say. I heard the creak of the stairs and footsteps heading toward my room. When the soft knock came, I knew who it was before she spoke.

"Lark? It's me."

"Come in," I called, sitting up and folding my legs beneath me.

Mom stepped inside, her face kind and curious as always, though tonight it was tinged with something else—concern, maybe. "Sophie just left," she said, perching on the edge of my bed.

I felt a pang in my chest at the mention of her name, but I kept my face neutral. "Is she okay to walk home? It's dark out."

Mom smiled softly, shaking her head. "I sent Liam to drop her off. You know I'd never let her walk home alone this when it's this dark."

"Right," I mumbled, nodding and looking down at my hands. "Good." But the word sat bitterly in my mouth. I wish it had been me. I should've driven her home, talked to her, figured out what to say without my heart knotting itself in confusion every time I looked at her.

Mom watched me carefully, the quiet stretching between us. Finally, she broke the silence. "What's up, songbird?"

The nickname—one she'd used since I was little—brought a lump to my throat. She only ever used it when she knew something was wrong. "Nothing. Why?" I asked, avoiding her gaze and fiddling with the corner of my blanket.

She tilted her head slightly, not buying it for a second. "What's up between you and Sophie? And don't say 'nothing' again. I've seen the way you've been acting lately, and so has she. She's really worried, Lark. She doesn't know what it's about, and honestly? I don't think you do either." My heart sank further, guilt pooling in my chest. I hadn't meant for Sophie to worry—I hated that she was worried. But the alternative was letting her know how I really felt, and that was a Pandora's box I couldn't afford to open.

"It's nothing," I said weakly, then quickly corrected myself when Mom raised an eyebrow. "I mean, it's not about her dating Liam. I swear it's not."

She leaned forward, resting a hand on my knee. "Are you sure about that? Because if it is, you need to talk to her. She deserves to know what's going on. She cares about you, Lark. A lot."

I shook my head, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to me. "It's not that. Really. I've just been stressed with school, you know? Getting back into the routine, the assignments piling up, all of it. It's just... a lot." It wasn't a total lie. School was stressful—but it wasn't the reason I'd been avoiding Sophie. That reason was sitting on the couch downstairs who had been, holding her hand, kissing her cheek, being everything I wished I could be to her.

Mom didn't look convinced. "Lark," she said gently, "I've known you your whole life. You're my songbird, remember? I can tell when something's weighing on you. You don't have to tell me everything, but you need to be honest with yourself."

I looked away, biting my lip. If I admitted to myself that it was about Liam, what good would it do? It wouldn't change anything. Sophie was with him. She liked him. And I had no right to feel the way I did about her—not when she was happy, not when my own brother was the reason for that happiness. "I'm fine," I said finally, meeting her gaze with what I hoped was a convincing smile. "Really. I just need to adjust, that's all. I promise I'm okay."

She studied me for a moment, her eyes searching mine as if she could see right through me. Maybe she could. Finally, she sighed and squeezed my knee. "Alright," she said quietly. "But if you ever need to talk—about anything—you know I'm here."