She flops backward onto the dock with a dramatic sigh. “I’m obsessed. This is like some dark academia slow burn novel. I’d read it.”
I lay back beside her and roll my eyes. “You’re so weird. And I’m so screwed.”
“Tell me why you didn’t get his name again?” she asks.
“You pulled me away,” I say, nudging her with my elbow. “Dragged me out before I had a chance.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my god. Shit. I did. I totally did.”
“It’s fine,” I lie. “I figured I’d never see him again, anyway.”
She tilts her head. “If he weren’t your teacher... you think you’d pursue him?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “I’d be all in.”
She smirks like she already knew. “Of course you would.”
We lie there for a while, smoke curling into the fading sky. The lake’s gone from gold to blue. A breeze rustles through the trees.
“You staying over tonight?” she asks. “Mom’s making calzones.”
I groan. “Spinach and ricotta?”
“The ones you’d sell your soul for.”
“I wish, but I’m already on thin ice with mine. I should probably head back before she comes looking for me.”
Sal pouts. “Fine. I’ll eat your calzone like the loyal friend I am.”
“You’re so generous.”
She rests her head on my stomach and we lie like that until the stars start to peek through the dark sky.
Eventually, we gather ourselves and head back. She hugs me tight before I leave. “Text me when you get home. And please don’t fall for our hot teacher. Or do. But if you do, write it down. We’ll sell it later.”
I laugh, promise her I’ll text, and head out. I live farther outthan she does, and the back roads are full of deer with no sense of self-preservation, so she always makes me promise. Always.
By the time I pull into my driveway, it’s pitch black. I cut the engine and sit there for a second, bracing myself. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe they’re asleep.
I ease open the front door, slow and quiet, hoping I can slip into my room unnoticed. The moment I step on the squeaky floorboard in the hall, her voice cuts through the dark.
“Sophie. Where have you been?”
She can’t see me yet, but she knows I’m here. Her tone is sharp enough to slice skin. I close my eyes and exhale, rearranging my face into something neutral before stepping into her line of sight.
She’s planted in the living room, back ramrod straight, arms folded over her chest. It’s her favorite spot in the house, like a throne in a room frozen in time. Floral wallpaper, yellow light, dusty antiques on every surface. My mom calls them heirlooms. I call it clutter.
My father’s not even here. He’s probably in the study, like always. They rarely speak unless something needs fixing or someone’s being blamed.
“I was with Sal,” I say, calm and even. “Time got away from us.”
Her eyes narrow. “I told you to come straight home. You never listen, and I’m sick and tired of your inability to follow rules.” Her voice rises, heat creeping into her cheeks. “I can smell the weed from here. Give me your phone. You’re grounded.”
I place it on the table and walk to my room without another word. No fight, no yelling match. I'm just done. I already know what’s going to happen.
She’ll leave it there for me in an hour, like she always does. We’ll pretend this didn’t happen. Like always. She neverapologizes, never admits fault. Just resets and expects me to do the same.
I’ve learned not to poke the bear. Not because I’m afraid, but because it’s pointless. Her anger doesn’t change things, doesn't help either of us, it just exhausts us both.
