In The Between

✧･Chapter 30 Its You

The car is quieter than it should be and full in a way I don't know how to name yet.

The kind of quiet that settles in after something shifts and doesn't quite settle back into place.

Streetlights pass in slow intervals, spilling through the windshield and across Claire's hands on the wheel, steady, like nothing about tonight threw her off balance.

I keep looking at her without meaning to. The way her fingers tap once against the steering wheel before going still again. The way her jaw tightens like she's thinking too much and not saying any of it. It's familiar, but it's not the same, somehow.

"So... where are we going?" I finally ask, my voice coming out softer than I meant it to.

Claire glances at me briefly before looking back at the road, one hand loose on the wheel. "Food, I'm starving." A small pause. "I'm assuming you are too."

I raise an eyebrow, a faint smile pulling at my lips. "I don't think we're dressed for a date," I tease, glancing down at my shorts and t-shirt.

She lets out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and easy. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me like this?" she asks, gesturing vaguely to her oversized shirt, her messy bun that's barely holding together.

I roll my eyes, but I can't stop the way my chest softens. "I would never. You could wear anything and I'd still be the happiest person just being around you."

She snorts softly. "Careful, that sounded dangerously close to sincere."

"It was sincere," I mumble, and immediately wish I hadn't said it out loud.

She hums like she's filing that away, then tilts her head just slightly. "Anything?" she presses.

I narrow my eyes a little. "Don't push it."

"What about nothing?"

My brain completely short-circuits.

"I- what?" I turn toward her too fast, heat already creeping up my neck.

She's smiling now, not even trying to hide it. "What if I wasn't wearing anything?" She repeats, way too calm about it.

"Oh my-" I cut myself off, dragging my gaze back to the window like that'll help, like the dark road outside is somehow more manageable than that image. My face feels like it's on fire, my heartbeat loud in my ears. "Claire."

She laughs and it only makes it worse. "You weren't ready for that, huh?" she says, amusement threading through every word.

"Claire, please," I mutter, pressing my lips together, trying and failing to compose myself. "You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?" She asks easily. "It's hypothetical."

"It's not a normal hypothetical."

"It is in my head."

I risk a glance back at her, instantly regretting it when I catch the way she's smiling. Soft, but a little smug, like she knows exactly what she's doing to me.

"That's concerning," I say, but there's no real bite to it.

"Mm," she hums. "You don't seem that concerned."

"I am," I insist, even though my voice betrays me.

She taps her fingers lightly against the steering wheel again, then adds, almost casually, "Besides, you've already seen me. Just not all the way."

My stomach flips. "That's..." I stop, because I don't even know how to respond to that without making it worse. Because she's right. Because that's the part I haven't let myself think about too hard.

Her. All of her. What I haven't done, what I haven't touched.

What I want to.

I stare out the window for a second longer before muttering, "You make that sound way less significant than it is."

Claire glances at me, one eyebrow lifting slightly. "Is it significant?"

"Yes," I say immediately, then hesitate. "I mean... yeah. It is."

She hums softly, like she's thinking that over, then looks back at the road. "You've never actually done anything with a woman before?" She asks.

I shift in my seat, suddenly very aware of everything - my hands, my voice, the way my heart is beating way too fast. "No," I admit. "Not really. Not before you."

"Not really?" She repeats, a hint of amusement slipping back in.

I groan quietly. "You know what I mean."

"I do," she says, but she's still smiling a little. "I just want to hear you say it."

I turn my head to look at her, narrowing my eyes. "You're enjoying this again."

She just laughs and I shake my head, then sigh, giving in. "No. I haven't... been with a woman before." A pause. "Not like that, not like... you know, giving."

The car goes quiet for a second, but not in a bad way, and Claire nods once, like she expected that, but she doesn't brush past it. "Okay."

That's it, just okay, and somehow that makes me more nervous than if she'd made a joke.

I glance at her again. "That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" She asks, tone still calm.

"I don't know. Something less casual?"

She exhales softly, her grip on the wheel shifting just a little. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter, more careful.

"I just want to make sure," she says, "that this is something you actually want."

I blink at her. "What?"

She shrugs one shoulder slightly. "Mae, I don't want you doing anything just because it's me. Or because everything feels you have too." A small pause. "You've never done this before and that matters."

Something in my chest tightens at that. "I know that," I say.

"Do you?" she asks gently.

I sit with that for a second, then let out a slow breath. "Yes."

She doesn't interrupt this time.

"I haven't because I never wanted to," I continue, my voice quieter now, more honest than before. "Not with anyone else." I swallow. "But with you - it's not the same."

Her fingers still slightly on the wheel and I keep going before I lose the nerve.

"I do want to," I say, more firmly now. "I really want to."

She glances at me again, something unreadable flickering across her face. "Yeah?" she asks softly.

I nod, then look down at my hands for a second before forcing myself to say the rest of it. "I've thought about it," I admit.

That definitely gets her attention and her gaze shifts back to the road, but I can see the way her jaw tightens slightly. "Thought about it how?"

My face heats up again, but I don't back out this time. "I just-" I exhale, shaking my head a little. "I thought about what it would be like."

She doesn't say anything, so I push just a little further, my voice dropping.

"I thought about what you'd sound like, what you'd feel like," I add, barely above a whisper.

That does it. Her hand tightens on the steering wheel, and she lets out a quiet breath that almost sounds like a laugh, but not quite.

"Mae," she says, warning and something else all at once.

"I'm serious," I say quickly, even though my face is burning. "You asked."

"I did," she admits.

Silence settles again, but it's different now. Heavier and charged in a way that makes it hard to breathe normally. After a second, she shakes her head slightly, like she's trying to reset.

"You're going to be the death of me," she mutters.

I can't help the small smile that slips through. "You started it."

She huffs out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, I did."

Another pause, softer this time, then, more quietly, "we're still taking this slow." She says.

I nod immediately. "I know."

Her eyes flick to mine again, holding for just a second longer this time. "I mean it," she adds.

"I know," I repeat, softer. And I do, but that doesn't stop the way my heart races when she looks at me like that.

The diner comes into view before either of us says anything else.

It's one of those older places - neon sign flickering slightly, half the parking lot empty, the glow from inside spilling out into the dark like it's the only place still awake in the world.

Claire pulls in without asking, like she's been here a hundred times before, like this was always the plan.

The car slows, then stops, but neither of us moves right away. The engine is still running, low and steady beneath the silence that settles back in, only now it's heavier than before.

I glance over at her and she's already looking at me. And for a second, it feels exactly like it did back in the house, like everything narrowed down to just this space between us.

Neither of us says anything.

Claire's hand is still on the wheel, but her fingers aren't tapping anymore. Her expression isn't teasing now either. It's softer and quieter. Like she's still thinking about everything I said.

Which, immediately, makes my stomach twist. "Say something," I mumble, because I can't take the silence anymore.

Her lips twitch slightly, like she's trying not to smile. "You just told me you've been thinking about what I feel like," she says. "I think I'm allowed a minute."

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. "I regret everything."

"No, you don't." She says it so easily that I look back at her, and she's right.

I sigh, slumping a little in my seat. "Okay, I don't. But still."

She lets out a quiet laugh, then finally turns the car off. The sudden absence of the engine makes everything feel sharper somehow.

"You good?" She asks, glancing at me again.

It's a simple question, but it lands heavier than it should.

I nod. "Yeah." She studies me for half a second longer, like she's making sure I mean it, then nods once.

"Alright," she says, pushing her door open. "Come on. Before I decide to keep you in here and make it worse for you."

My eyes widen. "Claire-"

She's already halfway out of the car, laughing under her breath, and I sit there for a second, staring after her, my heart doing something completely unreasonable in my chest.

Then I shake my head and follow her out.

Inside, the diner is mostly empty with just a couple of people scattered in booths, the low hum of conversation blending with the faint clatter of dishes behind the counter.

We get a booth near the window, across from each other. Which suddenly feels like a terrible idea.

I slide in first, tucking my legs under the table, trying to ignore the way my nerves are back in full force. Claire sits across from me, relaxed like always, but her eyes flick up to mine more often than usual.

A waitress comes by, takes our drink order, and leaves just as quickly, and then it's just us again.

I pick up the menu even though I'm not really reading it. "So," I start, because apparently, I can't act normal right now, "this is nice."

Claire huffs out a quiet laugh. "That's what you've got?"

"I'm trying to be normal," I defend.

"You're doing great," she says, completely unconvincing.

I glance up at her, narrowing my eyes slightly. "You're not even trying."

"I don't need to," she replies, leaning back slightly in her seat. "You're nervous enough for both of us."

"I am not nervous."

She just looks at me, and I last about two seconds before dropping my gaze back to the menu. "Okay, maybe a little."

"A little," she repeats, amused.

I shake my head, but I can't stop the small smile that slips through.

"So, I have a serious question for you." I suddenly say, my eyes finding hers and she lifts an eyebrow, watching me closely. She doesn't say anything, so I take that as answer to ask away.

"I've been wondering this for a while now and I just... I don't know." I trail off, my eyes leaving hers.

"Just ask, Mae."

"Why me?"

I look up, seeing the confusion across her face. "What?" She asks.

I sigh softly. "Why me, Claire? I mean don't get me wrong; I love that it is me but... I've known you for so long, way before anything has ever happened between us. You were always so against relationships and stuff."

She just stares at me for a while, like she wasn't expecting that question. Like of all the things I could've asked, that wasn't one of them.

And for a second, I think maybe I shouldn't have said it at all. But then something in her expression shifts softens, just slightly.

"Because it's you," she says, her voice low, quieter than before, like the words mean more than she usually lets them.

I don't look away this time.

She exhales slowly, glancing down at the table for a moment before continuing, like she's trying to find the right way to explain something she's never had to put into words.

"You're right," she admits. "I haven't exactly been a relationship person." A small, almost self-aware smile tugs at her lips. "I avoid things when they start to feel too real, or too serious. I leave before anything can actually matter."

Her fingers trace absent patterns against the table. "But with you... it was never like that."

She looks back up at me, and this time she holds my gaze.

"I knew you weren't into women," she says. "So, I kept my distance. I didn't flirt, didn't push, didn't let myself go there, because I didn't want to be that person for you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or ruin what we already had."

My chest tightens slightly at that.

"But it didn't matter," she continues, a quiet breath leaving her. "You still got to me anyway."

There's the faintest hint of a smile, but it's softer now.

"Somewhere along the way, you just... became my favorite part of everything. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing. If you were there, that's where I wanted to be."

I swallow, barely able to look away.

"Your laugh," she adds, almost like she's remembering it in real time, "it would catch me off guard every time. And I hated how much it affected me at first." A quiet huff of amusement. "I'm not used to feeling things that quickly, or that strongly."

Her voice dips a little more. "And your smile," she shakes her head slightly, like she still doesn't quite have the words for it. "It made me nervous. Which doesn't happen. Ever."

I feel my face warm, but I don't interrupt.

"And when you'd touch me," she continues, slower now, more honest with each word, "even if it was something small, like your hand brushing mine or leaning into me, I noticed every single time. I started wanting it. Waiting for it."

Her eyes flick down to my hands on the table for a second before coming back up.

"I told myself it was just a crush," she says. "Something temporary. Something I could ignore until it went away."

A small pause.

"It didn't go away."

My heart is pounding now.

"If anything, it got worse," she admits quietly. "You were in my head all the time. I'd catch myself thinking about you when you weren't even there, wondering what you were doing, wishing you were with me instead."

She lets out a soft breath, like she's finally letting something go.

"And then you kissed me," she says, her voice almost a whisper now. "And everything I had been trying not to feel just wasn't optional anymore."

My chest tightens.

"And that night-" she stops briefly, her jaw shifting like she's choosing her words carefully, "it wasn't just physical for me. It never was. That was the moment I realized I was already too far gone to pretend this didn't matter."

I don't think I'm breathing properly.

"Even the next day," she continues, her gaze steady on mine, "when everything fell apart, when you pulled away and we fought... I should've walked away and left it alone. That's what I always do."

Another small pause.

"I couldn't."

Her voice softens even more.

"Because it was you."

The words land heavier this time.

"I've never stayed for anyone the way I stayed for you," she adds. "Even when it was messy, even when it hurt, even when I knew I had lost you before I even ever had you... I still wanted you. I still chose you."

Something in my chest aches in the best way.

"And somewhere in all of that," she finishes quietly, "I realized it wasn't just a crush, or curiosity, or bad timing."

She holds my gaze, completely open now.

"I was in love with you. I still am, and I'll always will be."

For a moment, I don't say anything.

I can't.

I just sit there, staring at her like my brain completely forgot how to function. Like every single word she just said is still echoing somewhere in my chest, too loud, too full, too much in the best possible way.

My throat feels tight, my heart is racing, and all I can do is look at her.

Claire shifts slightly under my silence, just enough that I notice. The confidence she had a second ago doesn't disappear, but it flickers. Like she's suddenly aware of how much she just gave me.

"Mae?" She asks after a moment, her voice quieter now.

I blink, but I still don't speak.

Her brows pull together just slightly. "Are you okay?"

I swallow, finally dragging in a breath like I forgot I needed one.

"Yeah," I say, but it comes out softer than I intended.

A beat passes.

"We have to leave." It slips out before I can second guess it.

Claire blinks. "What?"

I shake my head slightly, already pushing myself out of the booth, my hands a little unsteady from everything still buzzing under my skin.

"We have to go," I repeat, a little more sure this time.

She lets out a short, confused laugh, glancing around the diner like maybe she missed something. "Mae, we just got here."

"I know."

"Then why are we-"

I look at her. Really look at her, and whatever she sees on my face makes her stop talking. Because suddenly she's not confused anymore.

My voice drops, quieter now, but somehow more intense. "Because if we stay," I say, "I'm going to do something that is definitely not appropriate for a public diner."

Her lips part slightly.

I take a small step closer to the table, my heart pounding harder the longer she looks at me like that.

"I need to kiss you," I admit, barely above a whisper now, but there's no hesitation in it. "And not the normal, we're in public kind of kiss."

The corner of her mouth twitches despite herself. "Oh," she says softly.

"Yeah," I breathe, nodding once. "So, unless you want to be the reason we get kicked out-"

That's when she moves, fast enough that it almost catches me off guard. She's already standing, grabbing her keys off the table, a quiet, breathless laugh slipping out of her as she shakes her head.

"Okay," she says, like she's trying, and failing, to play it cool. "Yeah, we're leaving."

And just like that, the air between us shifts again. But now charged with something that makes it impossible to stay sitting across from each other like nothing just changed.

She reaches for my hand without thinking this time, and I don't hesitate.

Not even a second.