The Only Exception

Stuck in a Loop

Billie's POV

The automatic doors of Dr. Evans's clinic slid shut behind me with a whisper, but the sudden silence outside felt deafening after the charged atmosphere inside. My hands, I noticed, were still shaking slightly as I fumbled for my car keys. 

Damn it, Billie. 

You'd think after all this time, all the space, the endless miles I'd put between us, seeing Stella wouldn't still gut me like this. But it did. Every single time. My heart was still doing that frantic little dance in my chest, a rhythm I thought I'd finally forgotten.

I practically dove into the driver's seat, the familiar leather a small comfort against the chaos in my head. I jammed the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life, a welcome distraction. My phone buzzed in the cup holder – probably Finneas wondering if I was on my way. I ignored it. I needed a minute. 

Or, like, a lifetime.

I cranked up the stereo, hoping the familiar thrum of the bass would drown out the insistent clamor of my thoughts. Logic, my rational brain screamed, demanded I block her out. I'd spent months trying to forget her, trying to numb the ache she'd left behind. 

It had been working.

Mostly. 

Then bam, Stella and her sparkling green eyes are in front of me, and suddenly it was like no time had passed at all. The way her fingers had brushed my jawline when she was sealing my tooth... a jolt had gone through me, immediate and undeniable.

God, I was such a mess.

The drive to Finneas's place was a blur of LA traffic and the internal monologue of a girl severely losing her cool.

I tried to focus on the lyrics blaring from the speakers, tried to sing along, but my voice kept catching. Every red light was an opportunity for my mind to drift back to her: the way she'd looked, a little more confident, a little softer around the edges. 

The way she'd asked, "Would that be... a bad thing?" 

A challenge. 

Almost.

My stomach clenched just thinking about it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Finneas said the moment I pulled up in his driveway, tossing his backpack into the back seat. He slid into the passenger seat, already plugging his phone into the aux.

"Nah, just traffic," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. I pulled away from his house, merging into the stream of cars.

He snorted. "Traffic doesn't make your hands shake like you've just chugged five espressos. What's up?" He turned to face me, his brow furrowed with that familiar, annoying Finneas-level concern.

I sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that felt heavy with all the things I didn't want to say.

But it was Finneas. He knew me better than anyone. There was no hiding it.

"I ran into someone at Dr. Evans's today."

His eyes widened fractionally. 

"Oh?" he prompted, his voice carefully neutral.

He knew. He always knew.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Stella."

The car was filled with the sudden quiet hum of the engine. Then Finneas said, very slowly:

 "The girl? The one who... messed you up that bad a few months ago?"

I winced. "Yeah, that one."

My voice was barely a whisper. "She's working there now. She was the one who did my scan. And then... she was assisting Dr. Evans with my tooth. It was so... close."

The memory of her fingers brushing mine, the way our eyes had locked, sent a fresh wave of heat through me.

"And?" he prodded, ever the inquisitive one.

"And what, Finneas?" I snapped, then immediately regretted it. "It's just... it's hard. Being in the same room with her. I feel... drawn to her still, you know? Even though I know I shouldn't. I should know better. But it feels like I'm stuck in a loop......"

I shook my head, frustrated with myself.

"It's so stupid."

He was quiet for a moment, then he reached over and gave my arm a gentle squeeze.

"It's not stupid, Billie. Feelings are messy and we have no control over them."

The gig, thankfully, went off without a hitch. I managed to lose myself in the music, in the performance, in the sheer joy of creating something with my brother. We were on a high, cracking jokes backstage, talking about ideas for new songs, just completely in our element. It felt good. Normal.

When I dropped Finneas off at his place, he was still buzzing. 

"That was sick, Billie," he grinned, grabbing his backpack from the back seat. "Seriously. You were on fire tonight."

"You too, dude," I said, a genuine smile on my face. „It's good to do this with you again - even if it's just small things like this."

He chuckled, opening the car door. Before he got out, he paused, looking at me. His expression was serious now, the playful banter gone.

"Hey, Bils?"

"Yeah?"

"Just... be careful, okay?" His gaze was locked on mine, earnest and etched with concern. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

I nodded slowly, the faint smile that had been playing on my lips dissolving. "I know. I will be."

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod in return, then gently closed the door. I watched him walk up the stone path to his house, the warm glow of the porch light briefly silhouetting him before he disappeared inside.

A weary sigh escaped my lips as I ran a hand through my hair, the weight it all settling on my shoulders. 

What a day!

Just as I reached for the ignition to start the car again, my phone vibrated, its screen lighting up with a new notification, pulling me back from my thoughts.

Stella: I hope your gig went well?