Night-Owl Trucking

Wednesday, 4:35pm

Luz died. That was the only explanation that made any sense: she died and went to some sapphic heaven—deposited at the gates of Galhalla by tall, muscle-bound Valkyrie, or, at least, washed up on the fabled Island of the Poets after a shipwrecked crossing of the storm-boiled sea.

By this point in her life, she had consumed an incalculable amount of fanfiction, and she'd spent long summer nights reading the literature as well. She'd seen romcoms and classic TV shows. Hell, not too long ago she and Lilith had binged the first season of Wednesday after an Addams Family film marathon during a slow spell at the office.

There was no doubt in her mind: Luz knew what it meant when the pretty girl said ma chérie like that, with a smile like that. It was the same reason she'd slipped up and used 'querida' the night before, when they curled up in bed. The same emotion that burned in her chest still glimmered in that bright golden gaze. She might not understand the why of it all—namely, why she was the lucky one to see that look in Amity's eye—but she was gonna grab this opportunity with both hands. Both... trembling, sweaty hands. Gross, Luz. She tried to wipe her palm on her pants without drawing Amity's attention, her mouth pressed in a grimace. Keep it together!

She was walking beside a breathtakingly pretty girl who for some reason liked her back, who had held out her hand and gently laced their fingers together, and— and— and! So many words wanted to spill from her mouth. She was practically vibrating with the effort it took to keep from rambling nonsense. Actually— wait. Was she about to throw up? She couldn't tell the difference at the moment, and one question in particular was begging to be set free. She'd almost blurted it out three times in the last minute, but she managed to swallow it down once more to simmer in her stomach. Luz, no, it's not time yet!

Amity glanced her way and breathed out a laugh, a delicate pink blush dusting her cheeks. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion and asked, "Not time for what? Breakfast?"

Luz felt an ice-cold rush of fear pour down her spine at the simple question, at the thought of Amity reading her mind, and she tried to turn her startled full-body twitch into something else as she squeaked, "What?!" Amity grinned at the strange little hop she made.

"They might still let us order from the breakfast menu, but— wait," the pale girl squinted down at her in a contemplative way, a sly smile stretching across her face. "Were you thinking out loud?"

The tanned girl slapped her free hand across her eyes and hissed, "Dammit," while Amity laughed and laughed. It was different this time, Luz realized, grinning and bumping the taller girl's arm with her shoulder as Amity covered her mouth with her hand to muffle herself. Amity's open amusement—carefree, happy, and beautiful—was like music in the air. She was laughing at a joke they shared. Luz started to giggle before she swiped a hand down her face and groaned, "Yes, I was, you— you caught me."

She gave a wistful sigh as she swung their joined hands back and forth. Amity watched the motion with bright disks of gold; their curled wrists flashing pale and tan in the sunlight. Luz glanced her way twice, before leaning into her arm with a soft admission, "There's... something I wanna ask you."

"Oh?" Amity arched one eyebrow in curiosity.

Luz nodded and swallowed, her mouth dry as a bone. "Yeah," she whispered, then had to clear her throat to add, "I wanna ask you so bad." When did her voice get that hoarse? The building ahead was suddenly the most interesting thing she had ever seen. Wow. Who knew brown brick went so well with a forest-green metal roof?