you and matt had been best friends for years, ever since middle school when you bonded over a shared love of the same music and movies. you two understood each other in a way that not many people did, especially when it came to talking about your mental health. you’d have deep conversations about everything—your anxieties, your dreams, the days that felt like they’d never end, and the nights that felt too heavy. it was nice having someone who got it, who got you.

one of your favorite things to do together was to go on drives. matt always insisted on rolling the windows down, no matter the weather, because he loved the feeling of the wind in his hair and the music blasting as loud as the speakers could handle. it didn’t matter if it was the middle of the day or late at night—driving around with no destination in mind was kind of like your therapy, a way to clear your heads and just be.

so when you heard the knock on your window in the middle of the night, it wasn’t totally unexpected, but it still caught you off guard. you were lying in bed, half-asleep, when you heard it: three quick knocks, just loud enough to wake you up but not enough to alert anyone else in the house. you sat up, a little confused and slightly annoyed, thinking, "who the heck could that be right now?" you rubbed your eyes and glanced at your phone, seeing that it was just past 1 am.

you got up and peeked through the blinds, and there was matt, standing outside, waving like a maniac. he had that goofy smile on his face, the one he always wore when he had some kind of plan. you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you pushed open the window. “really, matt? right now?” you said, trying to keep your voice down but failing to hide your amusement.

matt just grinned wider, leaning against the side of your house. “come on, you know you wanna go for a drive,” he said, his voice a little muffled by the night air. he was wearing a hoodie, the hood half-off his head, and his car was parked just down the street.