MELODY
...

I’m barely out of the shower when my phone pings from the other side of the bathroom. Water drips from my hair onto the floor as I grab a towel and wrap it around my chest, padding over to check the notifications.

Two messages. One from Steph, one from Jeremiah.

Steph: u around? I'm outside.

My heart skips a beat.

Jeremiah: I miss you already. Please behave.

I stare at Jeremiah’s text for a moment, debating whether to respond now or later. The second option wins. I don’t need a conversation with him right now. Also, I'm still pissed at him.

Instead, I toss my phone onto the bed and quickly pull on a loose t-shirt and wrap the towel around my waist. My hair’s still damp, sticking to my neck, but Steph’s already waiting, and I don’t want to keep her out there too long.

Even if that would be the best thing to do. Keep her out.

When I open the door, she’s standing on the other side, one hand clutching the strap of her backpack. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other like she’s nervous.

Is she nervous?

Her face doesn’t give much away, but I can feel it.

I step aside to let her in.

She mumbles a quick “Morning,” and I respond with the same. Her voice is casual, but there’s something in the air that feels off.

I don’t know if it’s me, or her, or both of us. Maybe it’s just the weight of knowing we’re going to be stuck together all weekend.

She looks me up and down—quick, like she doesn’t mean for me to notice. But I do. I notice even when her teeth catch her bottom lip for a second before she lets it go.

She's totally checking me out.

I should tease her, I should be all smug and shit but I'm just so nervous I'm scared it's written on my forehead.

“I was just showering,” I say, breaking the silence. It feels like I need to explain why I look like I just ran through a sprinkler. I jab a thumb toward my room. “I’ll go change.”

She nods, her face still neutral, but her body is stiff.

I take a step toward the hallway, then pause and turn back. “There’s, uh, just my room and Jeremiah’s here. If you want, you can put your stuff in my room too.”

Her eyes widen slightly, just for a moment, like she wasn’t expecting that.

“There’s enough space,” I add quickly. Ughh, I sound desperate!

She nods again, slower this time, like she’s processing it. I turn and head to my room before I make it more awkward.

Inside, I throw on a hoodie and some leggings, tossing my damp towel onto the edge of the bed. I glance at my phone, still lighting up with random notifications, but I ignore it. No point in getting distracted now. I'm already losing my shit.

When I step back into the living room, Steph’s already settled on the couch. She’s sitting stiffly, her bag still slung over one shoulder. The TV is on, playing something neither of us is paying attention to.

I sit on the opposite couch, keeping some distance. My eyes fix on the screen, but I couldn’t tell you what’s on it if you paid me. I don’t even know why I turned it on in the first place. Just needed something to fill the silence, I guess.

She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.

The tension in the room is thick and uncomfortable. It's as if I'm meeting her for the first time. Is she upset? Is she not happy to be here? Because she seems to want to be somewhere else.

I steal a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s looking down at her hands, fiddling with the zipper of her bag.

Since when is physio barbie this shy?

I wonder if she feels as weird as I do.

“So,” I say finally, because the quiet is getting to me. “What’s the plan?”

She looks up.

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging one shoulder. “Jeremiah didn’t leave a list or anything.”

Is that sarcasm?

“Classic,” I mutter under my breath.

She snorts, the tiniest sound, but it’s enough to make the edges of my mouth twitch into a half-smile.

“I guess we just... hang out?” she says, her tone more uncertain than I’ve ever heard from her.

“Yeah,” I reply, drawing the word out. “Sure. Hang out.”

I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.

The silence creeps back in, and I hate it. I glance at the clock. It’s barely 10 a.m. This is going to be a long weekend.

Steph shifts in her seat, finally taking off her backpack and placing it on the floor. She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. I can feel her eyes on me for a second before they dart back to the TV.

“Do you want coffee or something?” I ask, standing up.

She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I’m good, thanks.”

I nod and head to the kitchen anyway, more for something to do than anything else. I pour myself a cup and lean against the counter, staring out the window.

Jeremiah’s is a huge douche for this.

I take a sip of coffee, wishing it could drown out the thoughts swirling in my mind.

When I return to the living room, Steph’s scrolling through her phone. She looks up when I sit down, her expression unreadable.

“Anything interesting?” I ask, gesturing to her phone.

“Not really,” she says, locking the screen. “Just catching up on stuff.”

“Cool.”

That’s it. That’s the whole conversation.

I pick at a thread on the couch cushion, my mind racing to fill the silence. I’m great at small talk, but this is not working. It’s like we’re both trying too hard to act normal, and it’s backfiring spectacularly.

Eventually, I grab the remote and start flipping through channels, hoping something will spark a conversation. Nothing does.

“I guess we should figure out dinner later,” I say, just to say something.

It's 10!!!!

“Yeah,” she agrees, her tone flat.

The silence stretches on, and I can feel the weight of it pressing down on me. I want to say something, anything, to break the awkwardness. But every time I open my mouth, the words get stuck.

Steph leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “We don’t have to make this weird, you know.”

I blink, surprised by her sudden honesty.

“I’m not trying to make it weird,” I say defensively.

“I didn’t say you were,” she replies, her voice calm. “I’m just saying... we can chill. That’s all.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

She leans back again, and for a moment, the tension eases. Just a little.

I glance at her, taking in the way her shoulders relax, the way her gaze softens as she stares at the TV.

Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.

But then again, the weekend’s just getting started and that awkwardness is seeping back in.