Between Us

☆ part eighteen ☆

Next day, the afternoon felt heavier than it should have, like the weight of my thoughts had seeped into the air and pressed down on everything. Indi was hauling another bag toward Lark's car, muttering something about how it was the last one—though I wasn't really paying attention. My mind was tangled, caught in a loop of questions I couldn't answer. Do I like Lark?

The thought was like a thorn stuck under my skin, impossible to ignore no matter how hard I tried. I kept replaying the moments between us—the quiet ones, the lingering ones. The way her voice softened when she called me Blondie, the way she looked at me in the mirror in that tiny changing room. You're perfect. My chest felt tight just thinking about it. It didn't make sense. Lark was my best friend. She was Liam's sister. She was a girl. And yet... I couldn't stop noticing her. The way her laugh sounded like music, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the way her hands had lingered on my shoulders as if they belonged there. It was different from the way I noticed Liam, and that difference terrified me. With Liam, everything felt safe, like standing on solid ground. He was sweet and kind, steady in a way that made me feel secure. But Lark... Lark felt like the ocean. Vast, unpredictable, pulling me in before I could think to resist.

"Sophie?" Indi's voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to the moment. I blinked, realizing she was staring at me, one eyebrow raised as she gestured to the trunk of Lark's car. "Do you think I packed too much?"

Before I could respond, Lark's voice came from the other side of the car. "Yes," she said, her tone flat but teasing. Her voice alone made my heart skip a beat.

Indi spun around to glare at her. "You can't talk! You're bringing a guitar! That takes up, like, half the car!"

Lark just rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "The guitar's necessary. Your fourteen pairs of shoes aren't."

"It's seven pairs of shoes," Indi snapped.

I tried to smile, but it felt weak, half-formed. "Totally reasonable," I said, though my voice came out softer than I intended. Lark didn't respond, just climbed into the driver's seat, the faint hum of the ignition filling the quiet. Indi turned back to me, her expression shifting from playful to concerned as she stepped closer.

"Hey," she said quietly. "You okay? You've been kind of... out of it."

I froze, my chest tightening even further. Was I okay? How was I supposed to answer that when I didn't even know? I forced a smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. "Yeah," I said quickly. "Just... anxious to get there, I guess." Indi's eyes narrowed, studying me like she didn't quite believe me. Before she could press the issue, I grabbed my bag and moved toward the car, pretending to focus on adjusting the stack of luggage in the trunk.

As I walked past the driver's side, I caught a glimpse of Lark through the window, her hand resting on the wheel, her face calm and focused. My chest gave another uncomfortable twist. What was wrong with me? Shoving the thought aside, I climbed into the backseat, Indi following close behind. She glanced at me again, but thankfully, she didn't say anything.

As Lark pulled out of the driveway, I tried to focus on the hum of the engine, the chatter of Indi in the front seat, anything but the storm brewing inside me. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept drifting back to Lark. To the way her voice softened when she talked to me. To the way her hands had felt steady and sure on my shoulders. And to the one question I couldn't escape: Do I like her?

The car was buzzing with music and laughter as we drove. Indi had taken control of the playlist, much to Lark's annoyance, though every now and then, a song came on that made Lark drum her fingers against the steering wheel. Indi caught her once during a pop anthem and teased her relentlessly. "Admit it, you like my music," Indi said, leaning forward dramatically over to lark.