The parking lot emptied around me while I sat in the Lexus like a statue commissioned by an artist who gave up halfway through.
My hands stayed on the steering wheel. Ten and two. Perfect driving position for someone who wasn't actually driving.
The engine was off. Had been for approximately fifteen minutes.
Students walked past. Some glanced at the car. A few lingered, probably trying to figure out if I'd died or was just having an existential crisis.
Both, honestly.
My phone sat in the cupholder. Face up. The screen had gone dark three minutes ago, but I could still see the notification count glowing through the black glass. Seventeen unread messages.
I knew what most of them said without looking.
Felix asking if I wanted ramen. Harlow checking if I was okay after snapping at Cassidy in the hallway. Vivienne reminding me about the tailor appointment at three. Sabrina with probably just a single emoji that somehow communicated an entire paragraph.
