NINE

SAMANTHA

I stepped out of the cafe, my breath catching in the cold air. It kissed my cheeks, sharp and grounding, like it knew I needed something to pull me out of my thoughts.

But it didn’t help much.

Not when I could still see Mason in my mind—his mouth on hers, his arm around her waist, like I hadn’t existed just hours ago.

I wrapped my arms around myself and kept walking toward my car. One foot in front of the other. The lot was half-full, quiet except for the distant hum of campus life.

Then my phone rang.

Mom.

I stared at her name for a second, then swiped to answer.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to sound normal.

“Hi, sweetheart,” her voice came through, all sweet and bright, like a ribbon hiding something sharp underneath. “How’s your day?”

“Very fine, Mom,” I said. A lie. Another one to add to the pile.

“That’s good.” She paused, then, “Can you come home this weekend?”

I froze a little. One hand still on my car door, the key dangling in the other.

Home.

Just the word made my stomach twist.

“I can’t,” I said, quietly. “I have tutoring. And a group project.”

I held my breath, waiting. Hoping she’d let it go.

But she didn’t. “It’s important.”

There it was—that tone. The one that meant something was wrong. Something more than just dinner or Dad’s cold moods.

“What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my voice even.

She sighed. It was soft but full of things she wouldn’t say. “Your father’s been… feeling sick lately.”

Tense.

That was her polite way of saying, "You have to come home."

I leaned against the car, staring out across the lot, my heart starting to pound.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know we've not sent your allowance for two months, and I'm so glad you found that tutoring job,” she continued. 

Tutoring job. I almost laughed.

“I love you, Mom,” I whispered.

“I love you too, Sam,” she said, her voice dropping.

“I’ll try my best to come home this weekend. I know you’ve missed me,” I said.

That was my usual answer when I had no intention of doing it.

“Okay,” she said, her voice small now. “Take care, my baby.”

“Love you,” she added.

I paused. “Love you too.”

The call ended. Just like that.

I slid into my car, shut the door, and stared at the dashboard like it held answers.

Thought for a few seconds

I watched students stream past, laughing and talking about weekend plans. My phone buzzed again.

Macey: Still around? Can I ride with you? Sent my driver home already.

I let out a slow breath and typed back, Sure. I’m at the lot.

A few minutes later, I saw her—Macey’s tall silhouette rounded the corner, headphones around her neck, oversized tote swinging at her side. She looked effortlessly put-together, as always.

“Hey,” she said, slipping into the passenger seat. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Of course.” I started the car, the heater humming to life.

She settled in, tucking her phone into her bag. I glanced at her, half-smile ready, but my chest still felt tight. I forced my shoulders down, reminding myself she knew nothing—nothing about Mason, nothing about the deal that haunted me.

“Long day? Your mood was off earlier.” Macey asked, nodding toward the road.

“Yeah.” I kept my eyes on the windshield. “Back-to-back classes and that group project meeting ran late.”

She nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I had the same. And I’m starving; I could not finish my lunch and had to leave Liam. My brother and his girlfriend were all over each other, and girl, it was disgusting to watch. That girl used to be my friend before she chose Mason over me. Shame. Mind if we swing by the café on Oak? They have that new pumpkin chai.”

I took in a sharp breath, then exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease. “Sure. Sounds good.”

She smiled, relaxed again, and I turned toward the exit.

“If you need to talk, I’m here, you know that, right?”

I nodded, blinking against the gathering dusk. “Thanks.”

Silence settled, warm and easy. Through the windshield, the café sign glowed. I turned in, pulling into a parking spot near the entrance.

Macey unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’ll grab us two drinks,” she said. “Anything else?”

I shook my head. “Just the chai.”

She laughed softly. “Classic you.”

I smiled despite the ache because Macey meant well.

Macey came back with the drinks, cheeks pink from the cold and two paper cups in her hands.

"One for you," she said cheerfully, sliding into the passenger seat. "Extra chai, less sugar, just how you like it."

“Thanks,” I murmured, taking the cup from her. My hands wrapped around the warmth.

“Ready?” I asked, glancing at her.

She nodded, already buckling in. “Lead the way, chauffeur.”

I pulled out of the café lot and merged back onto the quiet road. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable—just easy. Familiar. But it didn’t stop my mind from racing.

Mason’s face kept creeping back. That kiss in the cafeteria. Audrey’s hand in his. The way he looked made it seem like he didn’t even care I was there.

Of course he didn’t. Our arrangement never required him to.

“You okay?” Macey asked, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

I nodded quickly, sipping the hot chai so I wouldn’t have to speak right away. “Just tired,” I said. “This week has been… long.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, blowing on her drink. “Midterms are coming up. Plus, Mason’s been grumpy all week. Don’t know why. Must be something with the team.”

I kept my face still, but inside, her words cracked something open. Grumpy?

“Boys,” I muttered, forcing a light smile.

Macey laughed. “Right? You’d think growing up with one would make me immune to the drama, but no. Mason’s worse than ever lately. Moody. Secretive.”

I stayed quiet.

“He’ll get over it,” she added, shrugging. “

The second I stepped into my apartment, I felt like I could finally breathe.

Warmth hugged my skin, soft and familiar. The faint scent of vanilla still lingered from the candle I’d lit the night before. I hadn’t realized how cold and heavy the outside world had felt until now.

Macey dropped her bag by the door and collapsed onto the couch like she belonged here. She did, in a way.

She reached for the soft throw blanket on the backrest, curling her legs under it like she always did. I didn’t even ask before pulling out my phone to order Chinese.

She didn’t need to tell me what she wanted—I already knew.

When the order was placed, I sat down, placing my head on her shoulders. My body was here, but my mind was miles away. Stuck on things I couldn’t say.

She just wrapped her hands around me and pulled the blanket higher.

When the food arrived, we both perked up like kids on Christmas morning. We spread everything out on the coffee table—orange chicken, lo mein, dumplings, the works.

We ate cross-legged on the couch, chopsticks in hand, the glow of the TV flickering in the background, though neither of us watched it.

Macey talked between bites, her voice animated.

I laughed a little, genuinely, for the first time in what felt like days.

But then her voice shifted. Just a touch.

“Mom wants you over for dinner tomorrow night,” she said, casual—too casual.

I froze, chopsticks halfway to my mouth. The food suddenly didn’t smell so good.

Macey nodded once, then turned to me. “So… you’re coming, right?”

I didn’t answer right away. My stomach felt heavy. I stared down at my food, but I wasn’t hungry anymore.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

 “Don’t make me beg,” she added with a nudge.

I looked over at her, at the softness in her eyes, at the trust in her smile. She didn’t know. About Mason. About me. About what I’d done.

 “Okay,” I said finally.

Her smile lit up her face. “Good. It won’t be as bad if we suffer through it together.”

I forced a small smile in return.

After we finished eating, Macey leaned back, letting out a long sigh. She gave me a look—one I knew too well. The kind that said she wasn’t buying a single word of my "I’m fine" act.

“Sam, seriously…” she said, her voice low. “Is everything okay? You’ve been too quiet lately. Like… off.”

I paused, my fingers tightening around the takeout box in my lap. There it was. The question I had been dodging for weeks.

I shrugged, keeping my face still. “I’m fine. Just trying to catch up. Classes, tutoring, all of it.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Macey stared at me for a beat longer, like she was deciding whether to push or let it go. She looked like she wanted to press more. I could feel it in the air between us.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she curled deeper into the couch, tugged the blanket up to her chin, and said, “Well, whatever it is, I’m here, okay?”

I nodded, managing a small smile. “I know.”

She changed the topic after that—something about a new N*****x series and how the main guy reminded her of her celebrity crush. I let her talk. I even laughed once or twice, but it didn’t feel like my voice.

Eventually, her words faded into soft breathing. She fell asleep right there on the couch, warm and safe under the throw blanket, like she had a thousand times before.

I picked up the leftover containers, cleared the table quietly, and then walked over to the window with a warm mug of tea in my hands.

The apartment was dark, except for the soft glow of the kitchen light. Outside, the night stretched wide and endless. The sky was deep, inky black, dotted with a few stars that looked more like distant thoughts than anything real.

I wrapped my arms around myself and stood there, letting the silence fill the room. My heart still felt too full and too empty all at once.

Then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at it, already knowing who it was before I saw the name.

Mason.

Still up?