Sam.

~~~

The sharp scent of petrol fumes hit me as I stepped outside my apartment building, pulling me momentarily out of my thoughts. I had spent the weekend at home, buried in my usual routine cleaning out my closet, rearranging my things, and trying to find some kind of peace in the monotony. It was what I did when I needed to clear my head.

Tuesdays were Molly's day off, and we always tried to meet up for a walk in the park. Today wasn't any different or so I thought. I was halfway through my walk when I spotted her across the street, her blond hair swishing against the back of her pink dress as she hurried along. She looked as if she had somewhere important to be, and I wondered for a moment if she'd forgotten about me.

"Molly!" I called out, waving a hand in the air.

She stopped abruptly, turning to face me with an exasperated look. "Where's your phone?" she asked, throwing her arms up in mock frustration.

I was used to this, her looking like she stepped out of a fashion magazine even on a casual stroll. Her makeup was always immaculate, her outfits polished. Meanwhile, I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a nearby shop window: no makeup, black jeans, and an old band T-shirt that had seen better days. The contrast between us was stark, and for a moment, I felt like I didn't quite measure up.

"In my backpack," I replied, stepping closer. "I thought we were meeting in the park." I furrowed my brows, trying to assess her mood.

She pulled me into a quick hug. "Change of plans," she explained. "I tried calling you."

"Where's Spot?" I asked, noticing she didn't have her dog with her.

"As I said, the plan changed." She smiled, brushing it off casually. "Mason went for a run and took Spot with him. I thought we could get something to eat or grab coffee instead."

"Where to this time?" I asked as we started walking.

"Let's just see where we end up," Molly suggested with a shrug.

I nodded in agreement. Ardmore Avenue had no shortage of cafes and restaurants, so we often wandered until something caught our attention. As we strolled, the easy rhythm of our chatter filled the air.

"Sorry about the money replica at the party," she said, glancing at me. "It's not fair to shift blame, the only person I can blame is my dad."

"It's fine Molly," I said, both of us know it's not fine, but I will not argue.

We both grew up in New York to say our families are wealthy would be an understatement, but unfortunately Molly's family lost the majority of their fortune last year. She clearly feels bitter about it and I can't fully blame her, having no worries about money felt like a blessing and suddenly not having it can be painful.

"So," Molly began shifting the subject with a mischievous glint in her green eyes. "I heard a rumor you went home with the vocalist on Friday."

I stopped mid-step, my brow knitting together. "Who said that?"

"Not important," she said, shaking her head with a sly smile. "So, did you?"

"Tell me who said that, and maybe I'll tell you," I teased, hoping to deflect her curiosity.

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Rory told Mason, and Mason told me."

I groaned inwardly, but there was no use dodging it now. "Ray walked me home," I admitted.

"And?" she prodded, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"And I got home safely," I said, my voice betraying a slight squeak.

Molly squinted at me, clearly not buying it. "What really happened?"

I sighed, relenting under her scrutiny. "We're going out this weekend," I confessed. "With Scott, Rory, and Emeth."

Molly stopped walking and gave me a look that could only be described as doubtful. "So, let me get this straight. You're going out with Scott and the new guy?" She shook her head. "That's going to be a disaster, and you know it, right?"

"Why?" I asked, genuinely confused.

She threw her hands up as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Let me spell it out for you: you're going on a date and dragging Scott and Rory along? Of all people?"

"It's not a date," I corrected her quickly. "I was already going out with Scott and the guys to the club, and Ray just said he'd join. He made it clear it's not a date."

She gave me a look of pure skepticism, but before she could respond, we reached the traffic light. As the signal changed, we crossed the street, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting toward us from a small café just ahead.

"Here?" I asked, motioning to it.

"Sure," Molly said with a nod.

The café was bright and inviting, with enormous windows letting in the afternoon sun. Tall potted plants filled the corners, giving the space an earthy, cozy vibe. We moved by the tables until we found a spot at the back, settling into the comfortable chairs.

"So," Molly began again, leaning forward slightly. "You and the vocalist are not going on a date this weekend, but I'm still not buying that you're just friends."

"Ray," I corrected her. "And I'm not sure what we are," I admitted honestly.

"Why not?" she pressed, her eyes narrowing as if she could see right through me.

I stayed silent, the words tangling in my mind as I tried to figure out how to explain things between me and Ray. We weren't a couple and not friends either. Sure, we'd kissed, and the texting over the past few days had been... intense. But nothing was defined nor I wanted to be at this point. My thoughts were interrupted as a petite waitress with a friendly, slightly bored expression approached our table.

"What can I get you?" she asked, holding a pen and notebook at the ready.

A brown, laminated menu lay untouched in front of me. I flipped it open, scanning the options, though my stomach already rumbled in agreement with nearly everything listed. Coffee was a given, though.

"Latte and a chicken sandwich," Molly said quickly, not even glancing at the menu. "And she'll have the same," she added, motioning toward me with a grin that screamed, spill already.

The waitress jotted down the order, her gaze darting briefly to me for confirmation. Molly's acrylic nails tapped a sharp rhythm on the table as she stared me down. I sighed, feeling her impatience like a second heartbeat.

"That works," I agreed, closing the menu and handing it to the server. As the girl walked away, I turned back to Molly. "I'm guessing you've been here before?"

"Of course," Molly said with a shrug, then leaned forward. "Now, tell me about Ray." Her brow lifted in that expectant way that made it clear she wouldn't take no for an answer.

I hesitated, the words forming awkwardly in my mouth before spilling out. "I like him," I admitted, my cheeks heating as I avoided her eyes. "We've been talking a lot on the phone. He's in the studio all week, so that's been keeping him busy." I shrugged, unzipping my backpack and pulling out my phone. "There's not much else to tell."

Molly wasn't buying it. "Does Scott know?" she asked, her tone sharper now.

"Yes and no," I said, scrolling through my last week messages. "I left the party without saying bye to him, and he got mad. Actually called me a bitch."

Molly's eyebrows shot up. "Maybe because you left with Ray?"

"I don't think so. He was mad before he even knew about Ray." I shook my head, scrolling aimlessly. "According to my messages time stamps, he only found out later." I placed my phone on the table and leaned back. "And before you say it, no, we don't need to have that discussion."

"He's been pining for you for four years," Molly declared, throwing her hands in the air as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You don't know that for sure," I countered, crossing my arms.

"But I do," Molly said confidently. "Rory told Mason—"

"Stop with the rumor mill," I interrupted, my voice firm. "You know I hate that. If Scott felt that way, he'd tell me himself."

"You're too trusting," she said, narrowing her eyes at me. "As much as you love the truth, you refuse to see it when it's staring you in the face."

"I see the truth just fine," I snapped. "But I don't believe something without a good reason, and there's no reason to think Scott feels that way."

Molly rolled her eyes, brushing her hair back with an exasperated sigh. "Look at the facts, Sam. Every time you get close to someone, Scott starts bragging about all the girls he's supposedly slept with. And as soon as you're single again? He's suddenly all about taking you to concerts and dinners, basically—dates."

"That's called being a friend," I argued, my tone edging toward frustration. "Do we really need to do this again?"

"Fine," Molly huffed, dropping the topic, for now. "Anyway, why are you hanging out with Rory?"

"Not by choice," I said flatly. "You know I avoid him when I can. Mason is his friend too, and I don't have much of a say when Scott invites him along."

Molly frowned. "If I told Mason to cut him off, it'd cause problems. But you, you could easily just stop—"

"I'm not even friends with Rory," I interrupted. "I only see him when Scott invites him, and that's it."

"Just be careful around him," she warned.

"I'm not stupid," I shot back. "And I'd never sleep with him." The words came out more forcefully than I intended.

Molly's lips thinned. "You mean like I did."

I froze, realizing my mistake. "No. Well... yeah, but I didn't mean it like that. Back then, we didn't know him like we do now. And let's be honest, his whole fake, sleazy vibe is not appealing."

I kinda did mean it like that, considering Molly gave away her virginity to Rory after what could count as two dates—but it was more group hangout than anything. He never called her back after that nor he acknowledged what happened. While I get it's not her fault, but Jesus Christ there was no way she didn't see that coming.

She relaxed a little, nodding. "Yeah, Ray seems more your type anyway."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I don't have a type."

"Sure you do," Molly countered with a smirk. "And that's why you and Scott would never work."

The food arrived, and Molly and I eased into lighter conversation, avoiding the thorny topics that so often led to arguments. We loved each other deeply, but finding common ground had become a rare deed since our teenage years. Any serious talk usually spiraled into bickering.

"How did Mason's audition go?" I asked, sipping my coffee, the warmth grounding me amidst the buzz of the café.

Molly held up a finger, chewing quickly before answering. "About that," she said, swallowing a gulp of coffee. "He got the part."

"That's amazing!" I couldn't help but grin, the genuine joy for Mason bubbling up. "We should celebrate. Are you coming to the club?" I bit into my sandwich, enjoying its savory flavor.

Molly's eyes widened, her expression almost comical. "No, thank you," she said firmly. "There'll be too few people there to avoid Rory. But," she added, her lips curving into a sly smile, "I would like to meet Ray, especially if this thing between you two goes anywhere."

I laughed softly and shook my head. "We can celebrate another time," I said through a mouthful of food.

Molly paused, stirring her coffee with slow, deliberate movements. Her gaze dropped to the mug, and she took a deep breath before speaking again. "There's something else. Mason's role means he has to move to Vancouver, and I'm going with him."

I froze mid-chew, her words sinking in like stones in still water. "That's great news!" I said after a moment, forcing a smile to mask the pang of loss that accompanied it. "Why do you look so worried, though?"

Molly looked up at me, her expression hesitant yet hopeful. "I didn't think you'd approve."

"Why wouldn't I?" I said, tilting my head, trying to understand her unease. "We can't live in the same place forever, Molly. Besides, I'm planning to travel anyway. I can visit you on my way back." I grabbed the green napkin from the table and wiped my hands, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Molly smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I'll still miss you," she said softly, standing up from her chair. "But I need to meet Ray before I leave Los Angeles. Promise me that."

"We'll see," I replied, slipping cash onto the small brown tray for the bill.

After settling up, we stepped outside. Molly's phone buzzed almost immediately, and she glanced at it before giving me an apologetic look. "Mason's calling. I need to go." She gave me a quick hug before rushing off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk.

As I walked home alone, music playing softly in my ears, I let my thoughts drift. The bittersweet reality of Molly leaving settled in, but it didn't overwhelm me. Change was coming without a doubt and hiding from the future was no longer an option.