𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
JULY 3RD, 1985

The car hummed quietly as it made its way down the road toward Heather Holloway's house. Scarlette sat in the middle row, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, her thoughts swirling like the clouds drifting overhead. She felt a knot in her stomach, an unsettling blend of anxiety and confusion. Next to her, Max and Eleven exchanged furtive glances, an unspoken agreement forming between them.

For a moment, the atmosphere felt heavy, filled with the weight of words unspoken. Max fidgeted in her seat, her fingers drumming against her thigh. Eleven sat quietly, her eyes flickering between Scarlette and the window, sensing the tension but not entirely sure how to address it.

Then, Max cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Scarlette," she began, her voice slightly hesitant but steady. "About the mall... I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for going without you. We didn't mean to leave you out."

Scarlette turned slightly, her expression unreadable as she regarded Max. She could feel Eleven's unwavering presence beside her, silently supportive, ready to back Max up.

"We just got caught up in the moment," Max continued, her tone softening. "I didn't even think about how it would make you feel. I should have known better."

Eleven nodded slowly, her big brown eyes earnest as she added, "It was wrong. I'm sorry too, Scarlette. I didn't realize how much it meant to you."

Scarlette took a moment, processing their words, the sincerity in their voices washing over her. "It's okay," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I didn't feel so alone."

As the weight of the moment shifted, Scarlette thought back to the day they'd all been at the mall. "And, um, I'm sorry for making you drop your ice cream, Max," she said, a hint of sheepishness creeping into her voice.

Max couldn't help but laugh, a bright sound that broke the tension even further. "Yeah, well, at least it was just ice cream and not my dignity," she joked, rolling her eyes dramatically. "But seriously, it was a real tragedy. I still think about that scoop of strawberry every day."

Scarlette chuckled, her heart lightening. "I promise to buy you another scoop—just not near any slippery floors this time." Scarlette joked, trying to play off that she slipped and didn't purposely make her drop her ice cream. Max rolled her eyes playfully.

Eleven smiled, her voice playful. "Or maybe we just need to make sure Max has a good grip on her ice cream," she suggested, earning a laugh from both girls.

Max grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Deal! But next time, I'm getting two scoops—one for each hand."

As they continued to joke about ice cream mishaps and the impending adventure ahead, Scarlette felt a flicker of warmth in her chest, a reminder that despite the turmoil, she wasn't completely alone. The awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a growing camaraderie that felt like a promise of support as they navigated the unknown together.