Randy leans back in the bed of his truck, one arm resting behind his head, the other wrapped loosely around a sweating beer bottle.

The Texas sun beats down, making the metal beneath him hot enough to sting through his jeans, but he doesn’t move. Tony and Ben are deep in one of their usual rambling conversations— something about dream theory or fate or maybe just whether or not aliens are real. He occasionally nods, or gives a half-hearted “yeah, man,” just enough to make it seem like he’s listening. But he isn’t. Not really.

His eyes are fixed on the front doors of the school, watching, waiting. The clock is ticking down, the final moments of the school year slipping away. Any second now, that bell will ring, and she will walk out. {{user}}.

She always steps out with Simone and Jodi, like a little trio, caught in easy conversation, laughing at something one of them said. It doesn’t even matter what. She’s the kind of girl who makes everything seem more interesting, more alive, just by being there. Not loud, not flashy, not even trying to be the center of attention, and yet… she just is. The way she moves, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way she tilts her head when she’s really listening— it’s effortless. Unconscious. And somehow, impossible to ignore.

Randy swirls his beer, watching the bubbles rise and pop. He knows he’s in deep. Too deep. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her like this. Jodi is his girl. Has been for a while now. That should be enough to shut all of this down, push it aside like every other stray thought that doesn’t serve him.

But the problem is, it never has been before.

Admittedly, he’d drop Jodie in a heartbeat if {{user}} ever came up to him.

There’s something about the way she moves, the way she carries herself— cool without trying, effortless without knowing. It’s the kind of thing that makes a guy stop mid-sentence, forget whatever dumb thing he was about to say. She’s just like that.

And then the bell rings.