All Chapters of Between The Lines: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

I was halfway through making coffee when my phone buzzed against the kitchen counter. I glanced down, expecting another notification from the group chat. Instead, I saw a name I hadn’t seen light up my screen in a while. Sofia: Hey stranger. Me: Well look who remembers I exist. The replies came in quick. Sofia: Don’t start LOL Sofia: I’m actually in town this weekend. Sofia: Can I come see you and the fam? I looked around the kitchen – the dishes in the sink, the grocery bags I’d forgotten to put away. A pile of mail sitting beside the microwave. The same house I’d spent years trying to keep from falling apart. Me: Yeah. Of course. Sofia: See you in a bit. I set my phone down and looked toward the living room. Mom was asleep on the couch, the television playing quietly in the background. Curtis’s bedroom door was closed upstairs. Nothing had changed since Sofia moved out. And somehow, that was the part I wasn’t sure how to explain to her. I heard the car before I saw it. I

Adrian: You wanna talk about what?”I wasn’t sure what I’d expected him to say, but somehow that wasn’t it.Me: Us, I guess.A few minutes passed.Adrian: Sky, I’ve been really busy lately. You know this.I read it twice. Of course he had been.Me: I know, I just feel like things have been different.Adrian: It’s nothing personal. Work has been a lot.I leaned back against my pillows. I wanted to ask him if he’d meant what he’d said the last time we were together. If he’d actually missed me, or if he missed having someone around when it was convenient.I wanted to ask why he could make time for me one weekend and barely managed a conversation the next. Instead, I typed one word.Me: Okay.Three dots appeared.Disappeared.Appeared again.Adrian: I don’t want you thinking I’m ignoring you.I stared at the screen, almost wanting to laugh.Me: I’m not.It wasn’t entirely true. But I wasn’t going to argue with someone who seemed determined not to have the conversation in the first place.

By the time Friday night rolled around, River had developed a very specific problem. He was bored. Not regular bored, either. The kind of bored that involved standing in my driveway, staring at my Challenger as if it had personally offended him. “You’re hovering,” I said. “I’m inspecting.” “You’ve been inspecting for almost twenty minutes.” “It’s a complicated inspection.” “What’s wrong with it?” “Nothing.” “Then why are you looking at it like that?” River glanced over at me. “Because I miss driving something that isn’t a grocery-getter.” “Your Honda is getting fixed.” “Slowly.” “You’re the one who turned it into a financial science experiment.” “That’s a very disrespectful way to describe automotive restoration.” “It’s a very accurate way to describe your bank account.” “I come here looking for emotional support, and this is what I get.” “You came here to complain about my car.” “Your car is innocent, you’re the problem.” I shook my head and reached for the keys. “

There was something about a parking lot at night that made everything feel a little more cinematic. Maybe it was the way headlights bounced off the concrete pillars, or how every engine sounded twice as loud when it echoed between floors. Maybe it was the rows of modified cars, the people gathered around open hoods, or the occasional motorcycle slipping through the crowd. Whatever it was, the place had a certain atmosphere. And apparently, Poppy knew about it before the rest of us. “I’m telling you, this is going to be good.” I glanced over at her, shaking my head. “You’ve said that three times.” “Because you keep questioning me.” “I’m questioning your ability to find a parking garage.” Poppy turned around in her seat. “I found it, didn’t I?” River leaned forward. “Technically, the GPS found it.” “Technically,” Poppy said, “Nobody asked you.” Mia was following behind us in her RX-7, purple underglow already illuminating the pavement beneath her car. She’d been sending picture