Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Quinn
Scott Street
Phoebe Bridgers
Chicago feels different than a New York City summer day. New York is all hot cement and quiet sidewalks. This city feels softer, less demanding. The kind of place that lets you breathe if you decide to walk it instead of racing through.
The breeze coming off Lake Michigan keeps us cool as Sadie and I stroll lazily on a path against the shore. We’re wandering without a destination, iced coffees in hand, talking about nothing and everything the way sisters do when they don’t get enough time alone.
It’s easy with her. It always has been. We sit on a stone wall near a small park, cicadas buzzing lazily in the trees as the gentle waves of the lake rise and fall. I watch a group of teenagers argue over a soccer ball, their voices loud and unfiltered, and something settles in my chest.
“I think I’m going to take the job and move here,” I say it lightly, but it doesn’t feel light.
Sadie turns slowly, her sunglasses sliding down her nose. “So, you’ve decided?”
“Possibly.” I nod, biting onto my bottom lip to tamp down the nerves I’m feeling. I don’t want her to feel like I’m crowding her.
Her eyes widen, excitement sparking immediately. “Okay, you can’t just say that and not elaborate.”
I take a breath. “The job offer is really good. A private residential facility. Still teens. High-risk cases. But smaller caseloads, better resources.” I pause. “And it’s a big step. Professionally.”
Sadie’s smile softens into something proud. “That’s huge.”
“It is.” I pick at the condensation on my cup. “The salary alone is more than I could ever expect to make in the school system. And the work, it’s exactly what I want to be doing long-term.”
“So, what’s the hesitation?”
“Will it bother you if I move here?” I spit the question out and then shift my eyes away from hers, afraid to see the truth in them.
I keep going and just ramble out all my concerns.
“I don’t want to crowd you. I mean, I don’t even know if you’re planning on staying with Dean permanently, so maybe it doesn’t matter, but I don’t want to suffocate you, or put a cramp in your style. ”
Sadie lets out a bark of laughter, her hand grabbing onto one of mine.
“Quinn, I would be ecstatic to have you wherever I am. You have never been, and never will be a cramp for me. I can’t believe you would even think that!
” She chuckles softly. “Mom and Dad won’t be thrilled that we’re both here and they’re still there. ”
“Exactly.” I glance back at the kids in the park. “It would mean leaving New York. Mom and Dad. Everything I know. And honestly, I love New York, and will miss them like crazy, but I’m ready to do something different. You’ve been traveling the world for years. I’ve never left.”
She studies me. “Are you sad or worried about that?”
“Neither.” I admit. “I’m excited. I’m looking forward to a new adventure.”
Sadie hums thoughtfully. “Does Mikey factor into that new adventure?”
There it is. I laugh under my breath, feeling my cheeks heat. “Of course you’d ask that.”
“I’m your sister,” she chides. “It’s literally my job.”
“He doesn’t factor into my decision to move here,” I state, and then admit more. “But I’m definitely curious about a few things.”
She tilts her head. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m attracted to him,” I admit. “But also, highly aware that he’s complicated.”
Sadie grins. “Ah, well yes. Mikey is definitely complicated.”
I roll my eyes, but I smile too. “For sure. Complicated. Charismatic. Avoidant. Probably an alcoholic. Possible fuck boy. Not exactly low risk.” I shrug. “Plus, what if we did hook up and things got weird? I’d still see him when I visit you and Dean if the band’s around.”
“And yet.”
“And yet,” I echo, “there’s something real underneath it all. I guess I want to get to know him better, make sure I’d be more than just a diversion. I’ve sowed enough oats in New York. Kind of done with that phase of my life.”
Sadie leans back on her hands. “You don’t tend to be wrong about people.”
“Time will tell, I guess. Especially now that I’m going to move here.”
She squeezes my fingers and then let’s go. “I’m behind you every step of the way.”
“Do you think you’re going to stay?” I dare to ask, putting her on the spot this time.
“I don’t know.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her gaze drifting out ahead of us. “I love Dean. There’s no question about that.”
“But?”
“But, I’m only twenty-nine. I have a whole career still in front of me.
One that includes me traveling all over the world, which means, being apart from him.
” She swings her attention back to me. “He’s asked me to stay.
Numerous times.” She shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.
For now, at least for the next few months, I’ll be here. ”
The afternoon slips by easily after that. We talk about lighter things; Luc and Lily’s engagement, family gossip, friends back home. By the time evening rolls around, the city feels softer. Golden light bounces off of brick buildings, and traffic hums like a distant ocean.
Sadie’s phone buzzes with a text from Dean that she shows me: Dinner in the city tonight? I can meet you.
“Sure, I’m cool with that.” I nod. “Where do you want to go?”
She suggests a place called Girl & the Goat, explaining it’s a warm and communal, not chaotic, and I agree immediately. “Please, I need a break from loud.” I laugh. “I’m not sure how you spent so many nights on tour.”
“I’ve been doing it forever, that’s how.” She flashes me a grin. “I love it.” I watch as she texts Dean back, and then we grab an Uber.
When we arrive, the restaurant is buzzing but manageable, the kind of place where conversation still matters. Dean is already there, relaxed and leaning back in a booth like he doesn’t need to dominate a space to own it.
And what the hell? Mikey is seated across from him. My step falters for just a second when he stands as we approach the table, my stomach doing an annoying little flip. Good surprise. Bad surprise. Both?
“Hey.” He smiles easily. No swagger. No tequila. He just seems normal.
“Hi,” I smile back, hoping my voice sounds steadier than I feel.
We slide into the booth. Sadie and Dean on one side, already leaned into each other like gravity does the work for them. Mikey and I on the other, knees almost brushing beneath the table. I notice. I don’t move.
Conversation flows awkwardly at first, then smooths out. Sadie and Dean fall into their own orbit quickly with inside jokes, soft laughter, his hand resting on her knee like it belongs there. Which leaves Mikey and me with no choice but to talk.
“So,” he glances around, then back at me. “Chicago treating you okay?”
“It is,” I chirp a little too brightly. “I really like it here.”
“It’s a great town.” He takes a sip of the beer in front of him. “I love being back. I could get lost in the city all day and not mind it a single bit.”
I blink in surprise. “Really?” I didn’t expect that answer.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It allows you to pay attention to things. Architecture. People in their neighborhoods. Food. You don’t just pass through. There’s so much to take in.”
The fact that he notices things like that catches me off guard, causing me to lower mine long enough to blurt out my next confession. “I think I’m going to move here.”
The words land between us.
“Oh, wow.” His eyes widen. “That’s big.”
“Yep.” I heave out a big sigh. “I told Sadie today. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to follow her around, or invade her space.”
“I get that.” He murmurs, and I know he does, probably better than anyone else. He nods, thoughtful, then looks at me more closely. “You have really beautiful eyes.”
I laugh, but it catches. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” he splays his hands playfully out in defense. “They’re just a cool color. Different than Sadie’s. A brighter blue.”
I study him in return. Up close, his eyes are lighter than I realized. They aren’t just brown, but a warm, almost golden color under the restaurant lights. “You have really pretty eyes too,” I don’t look away when I say it.
He blinks, then smiles. “Is that an analysis?”
“An observation,” I correct as I try to contain a smirk.
“This one I don’t mind.” His smile growing wider.
My gaze drifts to his arm, where ink peeks out beneath his sleeve. “Can I ask about your tattoos?”
He glances down, then back at me. “Sure.”
“This one on your shoulder?” I point to it.
“It’s a god.” He frowns as he pulls up his sleeve to expose the entire image. “With a name I don’t care about.” He stares down at it, his thumb brushing the ink absently.
“You don’t believe in gods?”
He shrugs, his brow furrowing in thought. “I believe in symbols.”
I tilt my head, his response surprising me again. “So, it means what then?”
He hesitates, just a beat. “Control. Quiet Strength.” His voice lowers. “Things better on my skin than in my real life.”
That shouldn’t matter, but it does. We’re both silent for a minute before I tap at the ink that’s on the underside of his bicep. “What about this one?”
“That was a mistake.” He rolls his eyes on a chuckle, lifting his arm so I can get a clearer view of it. It’s a pin-up style girl riding a guitar.
“But, you play drums?” My forehead creasing as I shift my attention to his face.
“Exactly.” He chuffs, scratching at the short beard lining his chin.
“But I used to think I wanted to be a guitarist. Until Luc convinced me I was a drummer.” He shakes his head.
“I’ll get it covered up with something else at some point.
” He smiles over at me. “When I find something that matters more.”
That honesty lands quietly between us. Dinner stretches on comfortable and unguarded.
Mikey doesn’t drink more than a couple beers.
He listens. Really listens. When he laughs, it’s unforced.
I find myself relaxing. That’s new, and I don’t hate it.
As we stand to leave, he walks me toward the door, and as we step outside, the space between us narrows again.
Not accidental. Not entirely intentional either.
“You’re flying out tomorrow, right?”
“Yep,” I confirm with a nod. “Early.”
He hesitates, then speaks, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“That job you mentioned earlier. The one here in Chicago. Is that a real possibility?”
I nod. “It is. I have to decide soon. Before the school year starts back up, which is right around the corner. I need to give the school notice before Labor Day.”
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “That’s soon.”
“It is.” And suddenly, it feels like more than a career decision.
He looks at me like he wants to say more, then stops himself. “Whatever you choose, it should be the thing that makes you feel like you’re moving forward.”
I smile softly. “That’s good advice.”
He holds my gaze, something hopeful flickering there, but it’s careful and restrained. “Safe flight tomorrow,” he offers with a small nod.
“Thanks,” I reply. “Good luck with the recording. You guys are starting next week, right?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I think I’ll need it.”
We don’t touch, but it feels like we did, static sparking in the air around us. As Sadie and I walk back toward the car, I glance over my shoulder once. Mikey is still standing there, watching me go.
I should feel wary. I don’t. I feel hopeful. And that might be the most dangerous feeling of all.