Between the Lines

Chapter 2 (first part)

The loud buzzing of my phone ripped me from a perfect dream where I didn't have any problems or annoying best friends. My hand flailed across the nightstand, knocking over a water bottle before I finally grabbed the phone.

I didn't bother checking the screen. Only one person would have the audacity to call this early.

"What the fuck, Danny?" I groaned, my face still mashed into the pillow.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," came Danny's annoyingly chipper voice. Why did he sound so awake? It was disgusting.

I squinted at the clock—6 a.m. "It's literally six in the morning. If I murder you, the judge would probably give me a medal."

"Six a.m. is late in the Elisa-world, remember? Your family expects you to be up by now, ready to conquer the day and—oh wait, you're probably still drooling on your pillow."

I could practically hear his smirk. God, I hated him sometimes. "You're a dick."

"Love you too, babe. Now, listen. My car's still dead and I need a ride. You know, since I'm too broke to fix it and you're such a generous friend."

I let out a loud, frustrated groan, dragging my pillow over my face. "You live thirty minutes away, Danny. Thirty minutes. Do you know what time it is?!"

"Yeah, six-oh-two. That's why I called two minutes ago. I value my precious time."

"You're the actual worst," I muttered, knowing damn well I was already going to do it. "Fine. But if we crash, I'm telling everyone it was your fault."

Danny laughed. "Deal. Now go get your cute little ass ready. You know you need to look decent for the family name or whatever."

That was the last straw. "Yeah, well, fuck that." I hung up and flung the covers off.

After dragging myself to the bathroom, I took the quickest shower known to man, threw on some sweats and a cardigan, and yanked my hair into a ponytail. Decent? I didn't even know her.

As I went downstairs, I could already hear the click of my mom's heels echoing through the hallway—sharp, precise, like she was stomping out any joy that dared exist in the house. I turned the corner, and there she was, wrapped in her perfect armor: a sleek navy suit, not a wrinkle in sight, hair pulled back in that tight bun she always wore. She looked like a CEO from some magazine.

Her eyes flicked over me, barely a second-long glance, just enough to register my existence. I didn't even bother straightening up. Why bother?

"You're not going out looking like that," she said, her voice cool and clipped. "Change when you get to campus. Use your dorm room. That's what it's there for."

There it was. The daily reminder that I was a disappointment. No, not just a disappointment—an embarrassment. My sweats, my messy ponytail, my existence were all a problem to her. And God forbid anyone on campus sees me dressed like...well, me.

I blinked, forcing my mouth to stay shut. The urge to snap back was so strong. I could tell her that I don't give a shit about what people think, or that the dorm room was more of a prison cell, but I didn't have the energy for another fight. So, I just nodded. "Sure, Mom."

She didn't even pause to see if I meant it. Her heels clicked away as she grabbed her designer bag and left the house, already mentally gone, off to whatever meeting or event was more important than me.

The door slammed shut, and I exhaled. My shoulders slumped. Every encounter with her left me feeling smaller, like I was shrinking into the background of my own life.

As I turned toward the garage, Maria, one of our maids, caught my eye. She gave me a small smile, her hands full with folded laundry. "Miss Elisa," she called softly, stepping closer, "you're looking beautiful as always. Don't mind her."

I couldn't help but smile back. Maria always knew when I needed a little boost. She didn't care about the stupid image bullshit. She saw me. "Thanks, Maria," I said, my voice a little lighter. "You're the best."

She smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the edges as I gave her a quick hug. It wasn't much, but it was something real, something that felt like home in this house that never did.

"Drive safe, okay?" she said, patting my back.

"Will do," I promised, waving as I continued towards the garage.

I grabbed my keys off the hook in the garage, the metal jangling as I spun them around my finger. My parents had given me the Mercedes GLE Coupé after I got accepted into college, like it was some kind of trophy for living up to their expectations. Not that I complained—the thing was a beast. I tapped the hood as I passed by, more out of habit than anything, and hopped in.

The leather seat made that familiar creaking noise as I settled in, and I gripped the steering wheel, taking a second before backing out of the garage. The house loomed behind me like some perfect castle. It always felt more like a museum to me—cold, pristine, and way too quiet.

I pulled out onto the empty street, feeling the slight purr of the engine as the car picked up speed. The morning air was crisp, still dark enough that the streetlights glowed soft against the pavement. I wasn't exactly a morning person, but this kind of peace wasn't so bad. No traffic, no noise. Just me and my thoughts, which, unfortunately, wasn't always a good thing.

As I drove, my mind kept drifting back to my mom's voice, the way she could make me feel like absolute shit without even trying. It was like a superpower, really. Why did I still care so much? I shook it off, trying to focus on the road.

Thirty minutes of empty streets later, I pulled up outside Danny's house. I leaned back in my seat and waited, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I glanced at the clock. No traffic, so I was on time. Which, of course, meant Danny wasn't ready yet. Classic.

Just as I was about to honk the horn, he burst out of the front door, a whirlwind of energy even at this ungodly hour. He practically skipped over to the car, swinging the door open with way too much enthusiasm for 6:30 a.m.

"Elisabeth, my extra-wealthy-rich-beautiful-amazing best friend! What did I ever do to deserve you?" he chirped, sliding into the passenger seat like he hadn't just insulted me by existing at this time of day.

I rolled my eyes, a smirk tugging at my lips despite myself. "You don't deserve me. That's the problem."

Danny let out a dramatic gasp, hand to his chest like I'd just shot him. "Wow. Rude. I thought we were besties. Where's the love?"

"It's 6:30 in the morning, Danny. Love is dead."

"Okay, okay, but seriously. Thanks for picking me up. You're literally saving my life right now." He flashed me that cheeky grin, the one that always managed to get him out of trouble.

I couldn't help it. As much as he annoyed me, it was impossible to stay mad at Danny for long. "Yeah, yeah. I'm only doing this because you begged."

"And because I'm adorable."

I snorted. "Sure, let's go with that."

As I pulled away from the curb, the tension I didn't even realize I was holding in my chest loosened a little. It was always like that with Danny—he made the shitty stuff feel lighter, easier to deal with. Even if he was a pain in the ass, he was my pain in the ass, and I wouldn't trade him for anything. 

I guess.