VII

Summer Preston

I've been lying in bed, feeling like I'm falling apart since everyone left after Thanksgiving on Thursday. The house feels too quiet, and I've been stuck in my head, overthinking everything.

Solené has been on my mind, constantly, relentlessly, to the point of infuriation. I hate it—how much space she takes up in my thoughts. A part of me aches to hear her out, to let her explain why she left. But I'm scared. Scared of what her words might mean for us—if there's even an us left to salvage.

Nolan, Adrianna, and I made plans for tonight. We're going to the movies, a double feature: Moana 2 first, then Wicked. Two movies in one night—definitely a distraction I could use.

I glance at my phone and realize it's already 7:10 PM. Our first movie starts at 8:55, so I force myself out of bed and start getting dressed.

I take a quick shower, the warm water soothing but fleeting, before stepping out and drying off. Since we're going to the theater, I decide to keep my outfit chill: a simple matching two-piece set, my Ugg Tasmans, and an oversized plaid jacket. I gather my hair into a messy bun, leaving a few strands loose to frame my face.

Grabbing my blanket and Stanley cup, I head out of the house. Sliding into my car, I send a quick text to the group chat, letting them know I'm on my way.

Tonight won't fix everything, but maybe it's enough to remind me I'm still here. Still moving. Still trying.

The roads are dark and quiet as I drive, the hum of the car's engine the only sound breaking the stillness. A part of me appreciates the solitude—it matches the way I feel inside—but another part of me craves noise, laughter, anything to drown out the thoughts that have been looping in my mind for days.

When I pull up to the theater, Nolan and Adrianna are already waiting by the entrance. Nolan is leaning against one of the columns, scrolling through his phone, while Adrianna is enthusiastically munching on a bag of Skittles she clearly brought from home. She waves as soon as she sees me, a broad grin lighting up her face.

"You're here! I was just telling Nolan we should've done something sooner this weekend. You've been MIA," Adrianna says, tossing a few Skittles at me as I approach.

I catch one midair, popping it into my mouth. "You know me—big fan of lying around and doing absolutely nothing."

Nolan looks up from his phone, his expression softening when he sees me. "You okay, Summer?"

The question catches me off guard, and I hesitate for a second before nodding. "Yeah, just needed to reset. This weekend's been...a lot."

Adrianna loops her arm through mine, steering me toward the entrance. "Well, tonight is all about forgetting whatever's been on your mind. Two movies, snacks, and us. What more could you need?"

"Maybe a time machine," I say, half-joking, though the weight in my voice betrays me.

Adrianna doesn't press, and Nolan gives me a look that says he knows there's more I'm not saying, but he doesn't push either. Instead, he holds the door open, and we walk into the theater together.

The lights dim as the previews start rolling, and for the first time all weekend, I feel a flicker of distraction. Adrianna hands me the oversized popcorn she insisted on getting, and I focus on the screen, letting the vibrant colors and cheerful music of Moana 2 pull me in.

But it's fleeting. By the time the second movie starts, my mind drifts back to Solené. I try to push the thoughts away, but it's impossible. Her face is there every time I close my eyes, her voice echoing in the quiet spaces between dialogue.

Halfway through Wicked, Nolan leans over. "You good?" he whispers, his voice low enough not to disturb anyone else.

I nod quickly, but his brow furrows. "You're not watching this at all."

"I'm trying," I whisper back, though I know it's a lie.

He studies me for a moment before leaning back in his seat, but the look he gives me says this conversation isn't over.

When the night ends and we're standing in the parking lot, Adrianna is scrolling through her phone, chattering about plans for next weekend. Nolan, however, pulls me aside.

"Talk to me, Summer," he says, his tone quiet but firm.

I glance at Adrianna, who is too absorbed in her screen to notice us, then back at Nolan. "It's just...Soléne. I can't stop thinking about her."

Nolan doesn't look surprised. "Have you talked to her yet?"

"No," I admit. "I'm scared of what she'll say. Of what I'll say."

He nods, his gaze steady. "You can't move on—whether that means fixing things or letting them go—if you don't hear her out. You know that, right?"

I sigh, leaning back against my car. "I know. But knowing doesn't make it easier."

"No, it doesn't," he agrees. "But you've got us, okay? Whatever happens."

It's not much, but it's enough to steady me. For now.

The cool night air wraps around me as I lean against my car, Nolan standing nearby, waiting for me to say something else. Adrianna has wandered off a little, still scrolling through her phone, her Skittles bag crinkling faintly with every step she takes. For a moment, it feels like everything is suspended, as if the whole world is holding its breath, waiting for me to figure out what to do next.

"I don't even know where I'd start," I finally say, breaking the silence. My voice is quieter than I intended, almost like I'm afraid of the words themselves. "What do I even say to her? 'Hi, thanks for disappearing and leaving me in pieces. How's your day been?'"

Nolan gives a soft laugh, though there's no amusement in his eyes. "Maybe don't lead with that," he says, leaning against the car next to me. "But you've got to start somewhere, even if it's just telling her how you feel."

"How I feel?" I repeat, my voice sharpening with the edge of frustration. "I feel everything. Hurt. Confused. Angry. And it's all mixed up with missing her so much it physically hurts. How do you even begin to untangle that?"

Nolan doesn't answer right away. He just looks at me, his expression unreadable, until he finally says, "You don't. You just let it all out. Even if it's messy, even if it's hard. She owes you that much, doesn't she?"

The question hangs in the air, and I feel its weight pressing down on me. He's right, of course. She does owe me that. But what if hearing her out doesn't bring me the closure I need? What if it only opens up new wounds?

Adrianna finally notices us and strolls over, breaking the tension. "Are we having a heart-to-heart over here?" she asks, her tone teasing but not unkind.

"Something like that," Nolan says, giving me a look that says he's not done with this conversation.

Adrianna tosses her phone into her bag and sighs. "Well, I'm starving. Who's up for Waffle House?"

I manage a small smile. Adrianna's knack for defusing heavy moments with food never fails. "Sounds good to me."

We all head to our separate cars, agreeing to meet at the Waffle House down the street. The short drive is quiet, the weight of the conversation with Nolan still lingering. When I pull into the parking lot, I spot Nolan and Adrianna standing by the entrance waiting for me.

At the Waffle House, the three of us settle into a booth. Adrianna orders a stack of pecan waffles, Nolan opts for a classic bacon-and-egg combo with a side of hashbrowns, and I stick with plain waffles drenched in syrup.

"You're quiet," Adrianna says between bites, glancing at me. "Like, extra quiet. What's going on?"

I hesitate, looking down at my plate, but Nolan speaks up for me. "It's Solené," he says simply.

Adrianna's eyebrows shoot up. "Ohhh. Solené. I was wondering when we'd get back to her."

I shoot Nolan a look, but he just shrugs. "She's your best friend. She was going to find out anyway."

Adrianna sets her fork down, leaning forward. "Okay, spill. What's the situation?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "She left. Out of nowhere. And I never got an explanation. I'm scared to ask for one, but I can't stop thinking about her. It's like this constant loop I can't turn off."

Adrianna tilts her head, considering this. "Let me guess—you're worried hearing her out will just make things worse?"

"Exactly," I say, grateful for how quickly she's pieced it together.

"Well," she says, leaning back in her seat, "here's the thing. It might make things worse. Or it might give you closure. But either way, you'll have your answer. And isn't that better than living in this limbo?"

Her words hit harder than I expect. She's right, of course, but that doesn't make it easier.

By the time I get home, it's past midnight, and the house feels as quiet as it did before, but something feels different. Nolan and Adrianna's words replay in my head as I climb into bed, my phone clutched in my hand.

I scroll through my messages until I land on Solené's name. My thumb hovers over the screen, hesitating.

Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I type out a message:

"Can we talk?"

I hit send, my heart pounding as the message goes through. For the first time in days, I feel something other than dread. It's not quite hope, but it's close.