Vanessa
While we load the suitcases into the car—or rather, while we try to fit the equivalent of an international move into the trunk—Connor approaches me with an expression I haven't seen before. Serious, but not solemn. Like he's about to confess he robbed a bank, but only took the pencils.
"Vane," he says, lowering his voice. "Before we go... I need to tell you something." He makes a small gesture to pull me slightly away from the group.
I stop, holding a backpack that weighs more than my patience. "If it's about the weight of the luggage, I already know. Melissa brought the whole house. Including the drama."
Connor smiles, but doesn't get distracted. "No. It's about the party."
I understand what he wants to talk about and follow him a few steps away from everyone.
"The other day, the almost-kiss. I shouldn't have done it. I have no excuses. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."
He says it without embellishment. No drama. Just that kind of sincerity that shows up when you least expect it.
I look at him in silence. For a second, I let him sweat. "You know that could've ruined everything, right?"
Connor swallows. "I know. That's why I'm saying this now. I don't want it to linger. I don't want you to think it was a game."
"And what if I already think that?" I say, raising an eyebrow.
Connor stays still. "Then I'll have to live with it. But I still wanted you to know."
I look at him for another second, then sigh. "It's okay, Connor. I forgive you. But only because Melissa brought enough suitcases to distract me from the topic for at least three days."
He laughs, relieved. "Thanks. Really."
"And if you try it again, I'll lock you in one of her suitcases. The big ones. The ones with wheels."
Connor gives an exaggerated bow. "I accept my fate."
Maeson, who's been quietly loading bags, watches us with an expression I can't quite read—maybe discomfort, maybe resignation. Like he's witnessing a scene he didn't ask to see, but is already too involved to look away.
Zack, on the other side of the car, throws a quick glance but says nothing. And Melissa, oblivious to everything, is checking her phone like she didn't just move half a continent in luggage.
Once we manage to fit everything into the car, we leave the parking lot and decide to go first to Olivia's house, so I can introduce Melissa to the person I consider the most sensible when it comes to giving advice and listening with her heart—which might be exactly what my friend needs right now.
The drive is quiet. Melissa isn't introverted, but right now she doesn't seem to want to talk much. She stares out the window with her arms crossed, as if holding back something she's not ready to release. I sit beside her, respecting her space. Connor plays with the air conditioning like it's a video game. Maeson, next to me, is so still, and Zack behind the wheel so silent, that I feel like they're not even in the car.
Connor is the first to speak, as always, breaking the ice in awkward situations. "Are you always this quiet, or is it part of the post-flight emotional package?"
Or making things more awkward... I glance at him sideways—how can someone be so clever and dense at the same time? It's like this guy doesn't know when not to speak, or just doesn't care.
Melissa turns her head just enough to look at him without smiling. "Depends. Sometimes I talk too much. Today's not one of those days."
She says it with a faint smile, which suggests she's starting to understand him—and I like that.
Connor nods, keeping his casual tone. "Alright. Just wanted to know if I should prepare for a deep conversation or a background playlist."
I jump in from the back, unable to hold my breath any longer. "I vote for the playlist. Something to lift everyone's mood."
Maeson smiles, discreetly. "We could play something instrumental. That way everyone can project their own mental movie."
"And what are you projecting, Maeson?" Connor asks.
"A scene where we all get home without arguing and with the luggage intact," he replies, calm as ever.
Melissa chuckles softly, as if the comment pulled her out of her gray cloud for a second. Zack watches her through the rearview mirror but says nothing. There's something in his gaze that isn't teasing or curious. It's something else. Like he's trying to read between the lines without opening the book.
I watch him silently. I don't know if Melissa notices, but Zack is looking at her differently. And she, though not looking directly at him, seems to know. Right now, Zack is a mystery to me, because his usual light and warm personality vanished the moment Melissa appeared at the airport.
The rest of the drive unfolds to the soundtrack of "Experience" by Ludovico Einaudi, and a comfortable silence among us. Melissa rests her head on my shoulder with her eyes closed, probably tired and finally feeling a bit calm after what I can only assume were emotionally exhausting days.
I'm grateful to be the support she needs right now, even if it's just the quiet kind.
I glance at Maeson, who's checking something on his phone, and I think about our moment on the beach—what might've happened if Melissa hadn't arrived with a broken heart, seeking refuge in me. And I decide that the day I get the chance to look Nicolas in the eye, he'll learn exactly what an angry best friend is capable of.
I get a message from Wenn, and I take the chance to ask her for a favor—and to talk a little about what happened at the beach, if she's ready.
🌻 Wenn
Vane, sorry for disappearing like that today. It was chaos.
Vanessa
Hi. I was just about to write you. How are you?
🌻 Wenn
I'm... okay. I'd rather tell you in person, but don't worry, I'm fine. I'm going to need your help with something. And how are you? I saw you talking with Maeson.
Vanessa
Alright, we'll see each other in a few hours—I have so much to tell you. But here's a quick summary, since you didn't get to hear me at the beach. My lifelong friend Melissa showed up unexpectedly. She came all the way from Colombia because her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, and she's really not doing well.
🌻 Wenn
Wait, from Colombia? Wow, that's a really long trip... Is she with you now? If you need help making things clear to the ex, count on me.
Vanessa
Yes, she's with me. Maeson, Connor, and Zack helped me go pick her up, and we're on our way to Olivia's house right now. And I'll keep that in mind, but for now I need to ask you another favor. Do you think she could stay with you for a few days while she gets settled? I don't want her to feel like a burden.
🌻 Wenn
Of course, Vane. Don't worry about the time. She can stay as long as she needs. You know there's space and calm here.
Vanessa
Thank you, really. You have no idea how much that means to me... and to her.
🌻 Wenn
I know. And I know that if I ever needed it, you'd do the same for me. Let me know when you're coming—I'll cook something nice. And we'll talk about everything else.
Vanessa
Perfect. I'll text you as soon as we're ready. Love you 🌻
🌻 Wenn
Love you too, Vane. See you soon.
I look up and Maeson is watching me. As soon as our eyes meet, he gives me that warm smile that's found a special place in my heart.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, with that honest curiosity that defines him.
I glance to my side and see Melissa fast asleep, so I feel more comfortable opening up.
"A bit overwhelmed. I feel like since I arrived, my days have been nonstop chaos—pleasant at times, but not always." I say, hoping my words are clear enough.
Maeson nods slowly, as if savoring each word I just said. His gaze doesn't leave mine, but he doesn't push. He's just there, as always—present without noise.
"Chaos gets a bad reputation," he says finally, with that calm voice that seems designed to soothe storms. "But sometimes it's just life's way of rearranging what's been too still for too long."
I stay silent, processing. He lowers his gaze for a second, as if searching for something in his own thoughts, then looks back at me.
"And you... you don't seem like someone made for the static. There's something in you that moves even when you're still. Like your mind is writing universes while the world breathes."
I smile, unable to help it. "Was that a compliment disguised as analysis?"
Maeson shrugs, with that expression that blends modesty and mischief.
"Maybe. Or maybe it was analysis disguised as a compliment. You never know with me."
"I'm starting to notice that," I say, adjusting my hair and trying to hide the warmth in my cheeks.
He looks out the window for a few seconds, as if thinking about something he doesn't need to say. Then he turns back to me.
"You've had intense days. I don't know everything you're carrying, but... it's clear you're doing the best you can."
I stay quiet for a moment, touched by the sincerity in his words. I don't know how he does it, but he always finds a way to say something that reaches me without invading.
"I'm surviving," I reply, with a theatrical pause, trying to sound dramatic to lighten the tone of the conversation. "Like a good novel protagonist—with chaos, suitcases, and a sleeping friend on my shoulder."
Maeson looks at me and says, with a soft smile: "If you need a distraction, I can tell you about the time Connor tried to do yoga on the beach and ended up tangled in a volleyball net."
From the front seat, Connor interrupts with: "That was strategy, not clumsiness!"
And Melissa laughs without opening her eyes.
So they were all just pretending not to listen to our conversation.
Zack, who had seemed absent until now, finally snaps out of his trance. "Did that really happen?" he asks, with a mix of disbelief and curiosity that makes him sound more present than he has the entire ride.
Maeson leans slightly toward me—not breaking the distance, but making it warmer. "Yes. And there are photos. But they're under emotional custody," he says, winking at me.
Zack lets out a brief laugh, almost like he surprised himself. "Connor tangled in a volleyball net... that definitely wasn't on my list of things I needed to imagine today."
Connor turns slightly, wearing a proud smile. "What you don't know is that I held the pose. Impeccable technique. Just... horizontal."
Melissa laughs again, this time with her eyes open, and I let myself be swept up in that unexpected lightness. Zack glances at her, as if that laugh gave him back something he didn't know he was waiting for.
And as Maeson begins to tell me the full story, the rest of the group settles into that kind of conversation that doesn't need direction—just company.