The car was quiet.
Not the kind of silence filled with peace—but the awkward, slightly tense silence of people who don't quite know how to talk to each other. Joanna,her mother drove with both hands on the wheel, eyes fixed forward, expression neutral. Sammy sat in the front seat, arms crossed over her chest, chin tucked slightly as she watched the trees blur past.
They hadn't spoken since they got in the car. Not even a "Did you have fun?"
Typical.
Sammy glanced sideways. Her mother's lipstick had started to fade. She looked tired beneath the surface—like a woman always stuck up working just to make ends meet.
She wasn't a bad mom. Just... distant.
Sammy had grown used to it. The long nights alone. The cold dinners. The texts saying, Sorry, working late again. She didn't resent her mother—not exactly. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt sometimes. Watching other girls be daughters while she just… existed next to someone who should've felt like home.
Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. Her thoughts drifted.
She'd spent most of the BBQ helping in the background—refilling cups, passing plates, laughing at jokes she wasn't really a part of. It wasn't new. That's where she lived, really. In the background, the girl who watched stories unfold around her but was never invited into the center of one.
Lily with Aaron. Kane standing near the grill, shoulders tight. Even the gentle way Aaron had looked at Lily—it all felt like a movie playing out, and Sammy was just...looking at them all.
Until he looked at me.
Kane.
The memory stirred something small but stubborn inside her. His sarcastic smirk. His awkward defensiveness. The way his eyes had softened—not just when she joked, but when she stayed. When she helped him flip bacon and didn't treat him like a third wheel or a pity case.
There had been a moment. She wasn't imagining it.
"Do you need anything from the store?" Joanna's voice broke into her thoughts, startling her.
Sammy blinked. "What?"
Her mother didn't look at her. "I have to stop for groceries. If you want anything, tell me now."
"…I'm good."
"Alright."
Silence again.
Sammy turned her head to the window, forehead resting on the cool glass. She watched the sky change colors as they passed beneath streetlights, one flicker of gold at a time. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass—soft eyes, quiet mouth. Still invisible.
But not quite as invisible as before.
Not after today.