"Hey, Dad," she greeted as she slipped into the passenger seat, her heart still pounding with the remnants of Lucas's unexpected attention.
"Hello. How was your day at the club?" her father asked casually, backing out of the parking space. Her father was the kind of person who asked but didn't really seem very interested in the answer most of the time, so Alanna kept it brief. It wasn't like she could share most of her thoughts with him.
It wasn't that he didn't care- maybe he did. Most of the time, Alanna thought he simply didn't know what to reply, so he rarely did.
"Fine," she replied, attempting nonchalance, "Just the usual." But her mind was stuck on Lucas' brief glance and the annoying butterflies taking over her stomach.
Alanna reached into the back of the seat to store her sweaty water bottle before it dampened more of her clothes inside her backpack, and her fingers brushed a curious irregularity beneath the fabric.
She paused, curiosity piquing as she pinched the object and drew it out.
Her heart stuttered—a condom, silver and unassuming in its silver metallic packet. A frown etched itself between her brows.
The thought of her parents, distant as stars in their shared orbit, made her stomach clench with discomfort.
"Did Sasha and Lila have rides?" her father's voice called from the driver's seat, eyes on the road ahead.
"Uh, yeah," Alanna stammered, slipping the unwelcome discovery into her purse. "Sasha's mother was going to take them home."
The drive home was painted in strokes of orange and pink. Alanna watched the familiar streets pass by, each one a memory, each turn drawing her closer to a reality she wasn't sure how to navigate.
She was pretty sure her parents no longer had sex. They barely spoke to each other, keeping a respectful and routine-like silence between them.
Why did her father have a condom in the car?
When they pulled up to her street, she recognized Noah's bike immediately, the blue frame a beacon of normalcy on her front lawn. Yet, the sight tugged at her with a twinge of annoyance.
Through the window, she saw him. Noah, animated and comfortable, chatting with her mother at the dining table.
"Looks like you've got company," her father noted, pulling into the driveway.
"Yep, that's Noah," Alanna replied, trying to smother the reluctance in her voice.
"He's coming by quite often," her father said with a teasing lilt, though his eyes remained forward. "His parents are good people."
Alanna rolled her eyes, the gesture hidden by the act of unbuckling her seatbelt. She didn't want to touch the 'maybe' that lingered in the air, the possibility of feelings unreciprocated and friendships complicated.
"Thanks," she said quickly, eager to escape the confined space filled with unspoken thoughts and that damned condom hiding in her purse.
She sighed, stepping out into the soft hum of the evening, where cicadas sang and the sky whispered of nightfall. Her feet carried her toward the house, toward questions and awkwardness, the weight of her purse a reminder of secrets and unsaid words nestled against her side.
Alanna pushed open the front door, the familiar scent of dinner lingering in the air. Her mother's voice carried from the dining room, a soft laugh mingling with Noah's deeper chuckle. Alanna hung back for a moment, steeling herself, then stepped into view.
"Hey, Mom. Noah," she greeted, her tone light but noncommittal.
"Alanna," her mother said as a greeting. "There's pasta, chicken, and potatoes."
"Thanks," Alanna replied, giving a small nod as she headed towards the kitchen.
Noah rose from his seat, following in her wake like a loyal shadow. He watched as she scooped some leftover pasta onto a plate, laden with aromatic herbs and sun-dried tomatoes.
"Did you listen to the new Linkin Park song?" he asked tentatively, his gaze hopeful yet cautious. "I got the single."
"Let's go upstairs," Alanna replied, filling her plate and grabbing a fork and knife from the kitchen drawer. She gestured at her plate, and Noah shook his head.
"I already ate," he said.
"Leave the door open!" her mother cried out from the adjacent room. Noah rolled his eyes and smiled. They never did, but her parents also never checked.
"Will do, Mrs. Diaz," Noah assured her before turning to follow Alanna up the stairs.
Once in the safe haven of her room, surrounded by band posters and scattered notebooks, Alanna took a bite of her food, savoring the tangy taste of tomato as it burst on her tongue.
Seeing Noah here was normal, but lately, she had started to feel slightly uncomfortable with him around her personal space. He never voiced his judgment, but she had the feeling that he didn't entirely approve of the direction she had grown in the past few months.
"So, how was lounging around the pool with the girls?" Noah queried, settling onto her beanbag chair, his legs sprawling out before him.
"Hot and boring," she mumbled through a mouthful.
"Ah, the torments of summer," he teased, his eyes glinting with humor.
Alanna sank onto her bed, tucking her feet beneath her. The room felt smaller with Noah's presence, every inch of space charged with an energy she couldn't quite name.
"Spill it then, what's the latest school gossip?" Alanna prodded, aiming to steer the conversation away from any probing questions about her afternoon or the unsettling discovery in her father's car.
"Ha, you'll love this," Noah began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The buzz is all about Jessica Taylor. She's been practically painting the halls red with her obsession over Lucas."
The fork paused halfway to Alanna's mouth, her muscles tensing imperceptibly. Lucas' image flashed across her mind: sun-kissed skin, a flash of a smile, the intensity of his gaze.
"Lucas Reynolds?" Alanna managed, her voice a whisper-thin thread, as if saying his name too loudly might summon him right there into her cluttered room.
"Yep, the one and only," Noah confirmed, unaware of the tremors he'd set off within her. "She's convinced they're destined for each other or something equally dramatic."
"Destined, huh?" Alanna echoed, her heart thumping an erratic beat against her ribs. She forced a laugh, brittle and light. "Sounds like a scene straight out of a teen movie."
"Right? Anyway, I doubt he gives her the time of day. Guy's got more depth than people give him credit for," Noah said, leaning back and studying her face. He pulled out a CD from his backpack and placed it into the record player.
"Sure," Alanna replied, her mind racing. She hid her turmoil behind a practiced smile, though inside, her thoughts churned like restless waves.