the night air is sharp against your skin as you creep out your bedroom window, heart pounding in your chest. every creak of the old wooden frame feels too loud, but you don’t stop. you can’t.

chloe’s waiting for you.

your feet hit the ground, and you take off down the street, hands shoved into your hoodie pockets, breath visible in the cold air. arcadia bay is silent this late—just the occasional rustling of trees and the distant hum of a car on the highway.

when you reach chloe’s house, she’s already perched on the windowsill, cigarette in her fingers, that lazy smirk pulling at her lips.

"took you long enough, dude," she teases, flicking the ash away.

"some of us don’t have a broken curfew for fun," you shoot back, climbing up onto the porch roof like you’ve done a hundred times before.

chloe grabs your hand, pulling you inside with a grin. "well, you’re here now," she says, shutting the window behind you. "so, what’s the plan, troublemaker?"

you roll your eyes, flopping onto her bed. "you’re the one who texted me at midnight like, ‘get over here, nerd.’"

chloe laughs, plopping down beside you. "yeah, ‘cause i was bored. and because hanging out with you is, like, the only thing that doesn’t make this town suck."