Chapter Text
Morning comes slowly.
Not with an alarm, but with the low hum of the refrigerator downstairs and pale light sneaking through the blinds. The living room looks exactly like the aftermath of a small, contained disaster. Empty pizza boxes stacked crookedly on the table, a blanket half-slid onto the floor, the TV still paused on the final frame of last night’s horror movie.
Susie wakes first.
She groans quietly, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. Her neck hurts. Her jacket is bunched awkwardly under her shoulder. She smells like cold pizza and fabric softener that definitely isn't hers.
"…Ugh."
She turns her head.
Noelle is still asleep beside her, curled up on the couch like she belongs there. Her hair is a little messy, one hand tucked under her cheek, breathing slow and even. There's a faint crease on her forehead, like she'd been frowning in her sleep—but it smooths out as Susie watches.
Susie looks away quickly.
She sits up, stretching her arms over her head, joints popping quietly. Her gaze drifts around the room, instinctively checking for movement.
Nothing.
No Kris. No Berdly. Quiet.
Good.
She reaches for her phone.
The screen lights up immediately.
Her stomach drops.
11 unread messages.
All from the same contact.
Susie doesn't open them yet.
She locks the screen again with a sharp tap and exhales through her nose, jaw tightening. Her leg starts bouncing on its own, restless energy buzzing under her skin.
She glances back at Noelle.
Not now.
She stands, careful not to jostle the couch too much, and pads quietly toward the kitchen. The floor creaks anyway, this house creaks like it’s alive, but Noelle doesn't wake.
Susie leans against the counter, phone heavy in her hand.
Still doesn't open it.
---
Noelle wakes a few minutes later, disoriented at first.
She blinks at the unfamiliar ceiling, then the room clicks into place all at once.
"Oh—!"
She sits up quickly, hand flying to her mouth.
Oh no.
She scrambles for her phone, nearly tangling herself in the blanket. The screen lights up and her heart sinks.
Missed calls. Texts.
"Shoot, shoot, shoot—" she whispers, already sliding off the couch.
She looks around, spots Susie in the kitchen, and hesitates. "I—I forgot to call my mom."
Susie glances over, expression unreadable. "Yeah. You probably should."
Noelle winces. "She's probably so worried…"
She steps into the hallway, pulling her phone to her ear as it rings. Once. Twice.
"Noelle?" Carol's voice comes through immediately. Tight, controlled, the way it always gets when she's worried. "Where are you?"
Noelle winces. "I—I'm so sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to worry you. I fell asleep. We were working on the project and—"
"You didn't call," Carol says, not yelling, but not gentle either. "You didn't text. I woke up at three in the morning and your bed was empty."
"I know," Noelle says quickly. "I know, and I'm really sorry. I should've— I just didn't think it would get so late."
There's a pause.
"…Whose house?" Carol asks.
"B-Berdly's," Noelle answers. "His mom was home the whole time. She made cookies and everything, I promise."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"…You should have told me," Carol says finally, voice softer now, but edged with disappointment. "I don't like not knowing where you are."
"I know. I won't do it again," Noelle says, earnest. "I swear."
Carol exhales. "You're lucky I trust you. And lucky that I know his mother."
"I am," Noelle says quietly. "I really am."
"Be home straight after school," Carol continues. "No detours. No last-minute plans."
"Yes, Mom."
"And Noelle?" Carol adds.
"Yes?"
"…I'm glad you're safe."
Noelle's shoulders finally relax. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The call ends.
Noelle stays there for a moment, phone pressed to her chest, breathing out slowly. Her stomach still twists a little. Guilt, mostly, but there's relief too. She turns back toward the kitchen, ready to apologize to Susie again for forgetting to tell her mom.
And freezes.
Susie is leaning against the counter, phone unlocked now.
Her face is pale.
Not shocked. Not surprised.
Just… tight. Controlled. Like she's holding something back with both hands.
Noelle doesn't see the screen yet.
Susie does.
The messages stack on top of each other, timestamps crawling forward through the night.
Where the fuck are you.
You think you can ignore us?
Answer your phone. Now.
Susie scrolls.
You don't get to sleep wherever you want.
You wanna act grown? Then deal with the consequences.
Another scroll.
Get your ass home or don't bother coming back.
You're not welcome if you're gonna pull this shit.
Her jaw clenches harder.
The last few messages are newer. Closer together.
We know you're awake.
Don't make this worse.
You're really pushing it this time.
One more.
You're dead when you get home.
Susie locks the phone. Hard.
Her hands shake. Just a little.
She stuffs her phone back into her pocket like it burned her.
Noelle steps closer, tentative. "Susie…?"
Susie turns too fast. "It's fine."
Noelle flinches. "I— I didn't mean— I just wanted to say my mom wasn't mad. She was worried, but she—"
"That's great," Susie says, forcing a grin that doesn't reach her eyes. "Really. Good for you."
Noelle hesitates. Something feels… off. "Are your parents—?"
"They're pissed," Susie says bluntly. "Nothing new."
She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and twists the cap off too hard, spilling a little onto the counter.
Noelle watches her, confusion knitting her brow. "But… they know you were with us, right? Working on the project?"
Susie snorts. "Yeah. They know."
She doesn't elaborate.
Noelle nods slowly, not quite getting it, but trusting Susie when she says it's "nothing."
"If you want, you can come home with me for a bit after school," she offers. "Just until things calm down."
Susie looks at her.
Really looks at her.
For half a second, something raw flashes across her face. Hope, maybe, or longing.
Then it's gone.
"…We'll see." She says.
The kitchen falls quiet again.
Footsteps creak on the stairs.
Berdly appears a moment later, already dressed for school. Button-up neat, tie slightly crooked like he adjusted it three times and still wasn't satisfied. His feathers are neatly straightened.
He pauses when he sees them.
"Oh-" He says, blinking behind his glasses. "You're… still here."
Noelle straightens immediately. "G-Good morning!"
Susie lifts her chin in acknowledgment. "Sup."
Berdly glances at the clock, then back at them, gears clearly turning. "…Right. Morning. I, uh—" He clears his throat. "I was about to make breakfast."
Susie perks up instantly. "Define ‘breakfast.’"
"Actual food," Berdly says. "Eggs. Toast. Fruit. Not—" he gestures vaguely, "—whatever qualifies as breakfast in your household."
Susie scoffs. "Hey. Cold pizza is a classic. Wait— eggs???"
Berdly sighs. "I know. I had this conversation with Kris before. I am not a chicken. I can have eggs."
Susie laughs at him.
Noelle smiles. "That sounds really nice, Berdly. Are you sure?"
Berdly waves a hand. "Statistically speaking, group performance increases when nutritional needs are met. And since we're presenting today, it's in everyone's best interest."
"Wow." Susie says. "You're feeding us for academic reasons. Romantic."
Berdly flushes. "That is not—"
"I'm kidding." She smirks. "Mostly."
They gather around the table as Berdly moves around the kitchen with practiced efficiency. It's clear he's done this a hundred times before. Cracking eggs cleanly, flipping them with precision, lining plates up like he's assembling something important.
Noelle watches, impressed. "You're really good at this."
"Of course I am," Berdly replies automatically. Then, softer, "My mom insists I learn practical life skills."
Susie mutters, "Must be nice..." Under her breath.
Noelle doesn't catch it.
They eat together, the quiet comfortable now. Susie wolfs her food down like she's afraid it might disappear. Noelle eats neatly, sipping juice between bites. Berdly actually slows down when he notices them keeping pace.
"So," Noelle says after a moment, "are you nervous about the presentation?"
Berdly adjusts his glasses. "Nervous is an inefficient term. I would say… alert."
Susie snorts. "That's a yes."
"I'm not nervous," Berdly insists. "We're prepared."
Noelle nods eagerly. "We really are. And Kris did such a good job on the slides."
"They always do," Susie says, without thinking.
There's a brief pause.
Berdly nods. "Yes. They did."
The silence isn't awkward. Just… noticeable.
Susie pushes her plate away, satisfied. "So. We picking them up or what?"
Noelle brightens. "Oh! That's a good idea. We should make sure they didn't oversleep."
Berdly checks the time again. "It would be efficient. And considerate."
Susie grins. "Look at you, caring."
Berdly huffs. "I care about punctuality."
"Sure you do."
They start gathering their things, bags slung over shoulders, jackets pulled on. Susie pauses near the door, fingers brushing her pocket where her phone is.
She doesn't take it out.
Noelle doesn't notice.
Berdly grabs his keys. "Alright. Let's go get Kris."
The morning light spills over them as they step outside together.
---
The walk to Kris's house is quiet at first.
Just early-morning quiet, the kind where the town hasn't fully woken up yet. Noelle walks a little closer to Susie than usual. Berdly keeps adjusting the strap of his bag, mentally running through talking points. Susie kicks a pebble down the sidewalk like it personally offended her.
They stop at the familiar house, lights already on inside.
Berdly steps forward first, clearing his throat before knocking.
The door opens almost immediately.
"Oh!" Toriel says warmly, smiling down at them. She's already dressed for the day. "Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning!" Noelle says quickly.
"Hey," Susie adds.
Berdly straightens. "Good morning, Ms. Dreemurr."
Toriel's smile widens. "How lovely to see you all together. Are you here to walk Kris to school?"
"Yes, ma'am," Berdly says. "We have a group presentation today."
"Kris has been working so hard." Toriel says proudly.
Susie mutters. "Yeah, they've been killing it."
Toriel turns around. "Kris? Your friends are here, dear."
Footsteps sound on the stairs.
A moment later, Kris appears at the bottom of the stairs, backpack already slung over one shoulder. They pause when they see all three of them standing there together.
"…Hey," Kris says.
Noelle smiles instantly. "Good morning!"
"Morning," Susie says. "You ready to be academically destroyed?"
Kris exhales through their nose. "Always."
"Have a good day," Toriel says softly. "And remember, do your best. That is all anyone can ask."
Kris nods. "I will."
Toriel opens the door wider. "Good luck today, everyone."
They step back outside together, the door closing gently behind them.
---
The walk toward school feels different.
Berdly breaks the silence first. "Alright. Quick recap. Noelle opens. I cover the analysis. Susie handles applications. Kris manages transitions and visuals. Minimal verbal contribution."
Susie shoots Kris a sideways look. "You don't have to say shit if you don't want to."
"That's… a way to put it," Berdly says.
Kris nods, fingers curled around their bag strap. "I know."
Noelle glances at them. "You don't even have to look at the class if it helps. You can look at us."
Kris gives a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks."
Susie grins. "Yeah. Just imagine everyone else is, like, mannequins or something."
"That does not help," Kris mutters.
Susie shrugs. "Worth a shot."
They reach the school.
Kris slows for half a step, breath catching.
Berdly notices immediately, matching their pace without comment.
"We've got this," Noelle says, quietly but firmly.
Susie cracks her knuckles. "And if anyone laughs, I'll eat them."
"…Please don't." Berdly says.
Kris lets out a shaky breath and keeps walking.
Together.
They eventually make their way to school, getting to class. They're a tad bit early, but it gives them time to prepare. Once the school day has started they're immediately the first up to present.
They're standing next to Berdly at the front, laptop open. Noelle and Susie are in their designated spots, looking calm, or as calm as Susie ever looks without something catastrophic happening.
Kris swallows. The Soul stirs beneath the surface, coiling like a shadow around the edges of their consciousness. It whispers, faint but insistent.
Kris feels their stomach drop. Their hands tighten around the edge of the laptop. They breathe through their nose, trying to steady themselves.
Berdly notices nothing yet. He's adjusting the slides, muttering to himself under his breath. "Let's see… title slide, introduction… yes. Flow intact."
Susie leans over to Noelle, whispering just loud enough for Kris to catch. "Bet they won't even notice Kris isn't talking. Typical."
Kris's chest tightens further. It pounces immediately.
”See? They already think you're useless. Everyone will see it. Everyone always sees it.”
Kris's fingers twitch. They grip the laptop harder.
Berdly looks up. "Everything alright, Kris?"
Kris forces a small nod. "Yeah. Good."
Berdly nods back and turns to the class. "Let's begin."
Noelle steps forward first, voice trembling just slightly as she clears her throat. "Good morning. Today, our project focuses on the historical development of…" She gestures to the slides, talking. "We'll walk through the major milestones, the analysis, and finally, the applied significance."
Kris shifts on their feet and bites their lip. Every muscle in their body is tense. They hear the words loud and clear, even louder than their own voice.
Susie leans over slightly. "Go, Noelle. Crush it."
Noelle glances at her, nods, and continues. "First, we'll look at the historical milestones…" Her voice is steady, but Kris sees the flicker of nerves in her fingers, the tiny tremble as she turns the slide.
Berdly steps in smoothly. "I will be covering the data analysis segment." His hands move with precision across the laptop and the clicker. He speaks with confidence, but every so often he glances at Kris. He knows Kris is there. He knows Kris is watching.
The Soul hisses at Kris.
Kris feels a pulse in their throat, a tightening in their chest. Their tongue feels thick. They take a shallow breath, trying to keep their eyes on the slides, on Berdly's hands, on Noelle's carefully poised fingers turning pages of her notes. They can do this. They have to.
Susie starts her section next, bounding up with a grin.
"Alright, now for the fun part. Applications! I guess"
The class chuckles lightly, the tension easing slightly.
Kris almost smiles. Almost. The Soul whispers again, sharp.
“They're laughing at you. Not with you. You're a joke. Don't even try.”
Kris's hands twitch at their sides. They resist the urge to step back. They have to. Berdly's gaze is steady, supportive. Noelle's is warm. Susie's grin is impossible to resist, even if it's laced with her usual teasing.
Susie gestures at Kris, a subtle cue. "Slides?"
Kris swallows hard. Their voice is trapped. Not theirs.
”You won't speak. You never speak.”
Kris forces their legs to move forward. They click the laptop. Slides transition. Their hands move mechanically, exactly as they practiced, but their inner voice is screaming.
Susie narrates over it with an exaggerated flourish.
"And here we see the result of their hard work. Amazing, right?"
Noelle giggles. "Um.. I can do the talking—"
Kris's heart stutters. They grip the edge of the desk. Breathe shallow. The world narrows. Each word from Susie, each calm line from Noelle, each precise calculation from Berdly, is both comforting and unbearable.
Kris moves to the next slide. Susie notices and smirks at the small victory, whispering under her breath "See? You're already doing better than you think."
Kris's lips twitch into something that might be a smile, or maybe it's tension. Berdly doesn't comment. He just keeps the flow going, guiding when necessary, smoothly bridging the content.
Noelle takes a breath before her concluding remarks. "And finally, the significance of these findings shows" Her voice wavers once, but she catches it, steadying herself. "We can see clear patterns emerging that will inform future research."
”Just stop.”
Kris feels sweat prickling at their forehead. Their hands shake slightly, clicking slides on cue, but every nerve screams.
"And that concludes our presentation."
The words barely register. Kris feels drained, every muscle screaming for relief. They haven't spoken a word voluntarily, haven't breathed freely.
Noelle beams, Susie grins triumphantly, Berdly exhales in quiet satisfaction, everyone is congratulating each other.
Kris nods, lips pressed together, feeling hollow. They let the Soul quiet down finally. Their hands slump to their sides. Heart still racing, but alive. Barely.
No one notices the storm inside them.
They're silent as the group packs up. Berdly pats them on the shoulder. "You did well. Visually and technically. That's all I could ask for."
Susie whispers teasingly, "You didn't even die. Bonus points."
Kris tries to respond. Can't. Words get caught. It still lingers faintly, reminding them of its presence, lingering, twisting, but they resist.
Noelle notices something, her brows furrowed. "Kris… are you okay?"
Kris only nods slightly, forcing their weight to be neutral, as if nothing happened.
They're together, but Kris feels like they just ran a marathon without moving.
By the time they leave the room, the presentation is over.
It's over.
They did it.
Susie is the first to speak.
"Well," she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder, grinning like she just won a fistfight. "Nobody booed. Nobody passed out. I didn't punch anyone. I'm calling that a win."
Noelle laughs, a breathy little sound that still carries relief in it. "Susie—"
"I'm serious," Susie continues. "We crushed it."
Berdly nods, adjusting his glasses, posture still stiff but clearly less tense than it was ten minutes ago. "Objectively speaking, our presentation met all rubric criteria. Cohesive structure, clear analysis, effective visuals—"
He glances at Kris.
"—and excellent technical execution."
Kris blinks.
"…Okay." They say.
It comes out quieter than they mean it to. Just one word. Almost lost under the noise of the classroom.
But Berdly hears it.
Noelle does too.
She smiles at Kris, warm and sincere. "You really did great. I know… that was probably hard."
Kris nods.
Susie squints at them, expression shifting from smug to something more observant. "You alive in there?"
Kris shrugs.
"Cool," Susie says. "Blink twice if you need me to kill someone."
That earns a faint huff of air from Kris's nose. Not quite a laugh. But close.
They start packing up together, movements slow and slightly disjointed on Kris's end. Their hands still feel heavy, like they belong to someone else. The Soul is quiet now. Mercifully so. But the echo of its presence lingers, a pressure behind the eyes, a dull ache in their chest.
Berdly is the first to speak up. "So, gaming sesh at mine?"
"Oh—" Noelle says softly. "I… I have to go home right after school."
Susie tilts her head. "Huh? Why?"
"My mom," Noelle replies, apologetic. "She told me this morning. No stopping anywhere."
Susie nods, casual, but her shoulders tense almost imperceptibly. "Yeah. Makes sense."
Berdly frowns slightly. "That is… unfortunate. But understandable. ...Kris?"
Kris snaps their head up. "...huh?"
"You coming to mine? Gaming?"
Kris hesitates, blinking a few times, somewhere else entirely. "Um. Yeah."
Noelle smiles. "Okay. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"
Kris nods again.
She lingers for a moment, clearly wanting to say more, then doesn't. She gives Susie a quick hug, waves at Berdly, and heads out.
The hallway feels emptier after that.
They don't talk much at first.
The three of them move through the school together, the adrenaline from the presentation wearing off in uneven waves. Susie's confidence deflates just a little with every step toward the exit. Berdly seems deep in thought, replaying moments of the presentation in his head, already analyzing what could've been improved.
Kris just… walks.
Their head feels fuzzy. The lights are too bright. The chatter too loud. But they're upright. They're moving.
That's something.
Outside, the air is cool and sharp, grounding.
Susie cracks her knuckles. "So. That was a thing."
"Indeed." Berdly says. "And statistically speaking, the most stressful portion of the day is now behind us."
Susie laughs, sharp and humorless. "Yeah. Lucky us."
She shoves her hands into her pockets.
Kris notices the way she avoids looking at her phone. They don't comment.
Berdly smiles. It's small. Real.
---
Berdly's house
Berdly's room is loud within minutes.
Controllers click. The TV flashes bright colors. The menu music blares a little too cheerfully for how drained all three of them are.
"Alright," Susie says, plopping onto the floor, legs crossed. "Mario Kart. No mercy."
"Objection," Berdly says. "Mercy is inefficient."
"Exactly."
Kris sits between them on the bed, controller warm in their hands. At first, they're quiet, focused, eyes tracking the screen, body reacting on instinct.
The first race starts.
Susie immediately drives off the edge.
"WHAT—"
Berdly laughs. Actually laughs. "Skill issue."
"Shut the FUCK up BERDLY." Susie snaps. "I got distracted."
Kris snorts.
Susie whips around. "Oh, now you're laughing?"
"...Maybe."
The second race goes better. Worse, actually. Kris and Susie decided to play as a team. Blue shells fly. Kris screams. Susie accuses Berdly of cheating. By the third race, they're leaning forward, shouting without thinking.
"Susie, left— COME ON! LEFT—"
"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"
"ITS A FUCKING SHORTCUT!"
She veers straight into a banana peel.
"…Okay, that one's on me." Susie mutters.
Berdly cackles. "Justice."
Kris laughs. Loudly.
It surprises them.
It surprises Berdly too. He glances over, just for a second, but doesn't say anything. Doesn't make it weird. Just admires their laugh.
They keep playing.
Switching games. Button mashing. Shouting. Losing. Winning. Accidental elbowing. Insults that aren't meant to hurt.
Somewhere along the way, Kris starts talking more. Not a lot. But more.
The weight in Kris's chest loosens with every minute.
---
Later, when they're sprawled on the floor, exhausted and sweaty and laughing too hard at nothing, Susie goes quiet again.
Her phone buzzes.
Once.
Twice.
She doesn't look at it.
Berdly notices this time.
"…You do not appear relaxed." He says carefully.
Susie shrugs, forcing a grin. "I'm fine."
Kris sits up slowly.
They don't ask. They don't need to.
"You can stay here. With us." Kris says quietly.
Susie looks at them.
"…Yeah?"
"If you want."
Susie exhales. Long. Shaky. "…Yeah. I do."
Berdly nods immediately. "Of course."
They don't bring up the messages. They don't need to.
The game menu hums quietly in the background as the evening stretches on. Loud, messy, imperfect, and safe.
For now.
---
The sky has shifted by the time they finally power everything down.
Berdly stretches, cracking his back. "That was… statistically effective stress relief."
Susie snorts, grabbing her jacket. "Yeah, yeah. Nerd therapy."
Kris stands a little slower, the fatigue settling back into their limbs now that the noise has faded. Their head feels clearer than it did earlier, but heavy, like they've been running on borrowed energy.
Outside, the evening air is cool. The streetlights hum faintly.
They pause on the sidewalk.
Susie rocks on her heels, hands jammed into her pockets. She looks… reluctant. Like she's trying not to think about where she's headed.
"…Thanks," she says finally, not looking at either of them. "For letting me hang out."
Berdly blinks. "You did not require permission."
"Still," Susie mutters.
Kris shifts their bag on their shoulder. "…You okay?"
Susie meets their eyes.
For just a second, the grin drops.
"…Yeah," she says, lying badly. Then she smirks. "I mean. I survived group projects. I'll survive anything."
Kris nods. They don't push.
They step closer, awkwardly bumping shoulders with her instead of hugging. Susie stiffens, then relaxes.
"Later, Kris," she says. "Don't do anything dumb."
"…I won't." Kris replies. "You too."
Susie grins. "Heh. No promises."
She waves once, sharp and casual, then turns and heads down the street, boots heavy against the pavement.
Kris watches until she's gone.
Then they turn the other way.
---
Home is warm.
It feels unreal how gentle it is after the day they've had.
Kris opens the door quietly.
"Hello?" Toriel calls from the kitchen. "Is that you, my child?"
"…Yeah," Kris says.
They slip their shoes off, set their bag down. The smell of something familiar, cinnamon, maybe, hangs in the air.
Toriel appears in the doorway, wiping her paws on a towel, smiling. "You're home a later than usual."
"Project." Kris replies. "Then Berdly."
"Oh, right!" She says, eyes lighting up. "How did it go?"
Kris hesitates.
Their chest tightens. not painfully, just… full. "…It went okay. We presented."
Toriel's smile widens. "I'm proud of you."
The words land gently. They don't feel like pressure. Just… warmth.
Kris shrugs, staring at the floor. "I... didn't say much."
"That's alright," Toriel says immediately. "You don't have to speak a lot to do well. You showed up. That matters."
Kris swallows.
"…Susie came with me after," they add, almost as an afterthought. "We played games."
"That sounds fun." Toriel says. Then, softer, more perceptive, "You look tired..."
Kris nods.
Toriel steps closer, resting a hand on their shoulder. "Why don't you go get comfortable? Dinner will be ready soon."
"…Okay."
Kris goes upstairs, closing the door behind them.
For the first time all day, the quiet doesn't feel loud.
They sit on the edge of their bed, breathing slowly.
Tomorrow can wait.
For now, they're home. Safe.
At least they are.
---
Susie walks slower the farther she gets from the lights.
Her boots scrape the pavement, uneven, lazy kicks that don't line up with her steps. The neighborhood changes as she goes, houses closer together, lights fewer, porches darker.
Her phone is heavy in her pocket.
She doesn't take it out. She doesn't need to.
The last message is burned into her brain.
“You're dead when you get home.“
Now, with her house in sight, fear spikes.
The porch light is on.
That's never a good sign.
Susie slows to a stop across the street, debating to turn around, run away to a different town, sleep on a bench, anything.
"Whatever." She mutters to herself. "Get it over with."
She crosses the street.
Each step feels louder than the last.
The door opens before she can knock. Her mom is standing there.
She's already angry.
Not surprised. Not confused. Angry in that sharp, coiled way, like she's been waiting, building momentum.
"Where the hell have you been?" Her mom snaps.
Susie opens her mouth. Closes it. Shrugs.
"Out." She says.
Wrong answer.
Her mom's face twists. "Out." She repeats, mocking. "You think that's cute?"
Susie steps inside without being invited. The door slams shut behind her. The sound echoes too much in the narrow hallway.
"I texted you," her mom says, voice rising. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you didn't come home?"
Susie drops her bag by the wall. "I was with friends."
That earns her a laugh. Not amused. Sharp.
"Friends," her mom spits. "You think I give a shit?"
Susie keeps her eyes on the floor. The carpet is worn thin near the door, fibers flattened from years of pacing.
Her mom steps closer.
"You're skipping responsibilities. You're embarrassing me. And you don't even have the decency to answer your phone."
"I didn't skip—"
Her mom's voice cracks like a whip. "Don't talk back."
Susie flinches despite herself.
The air feels smaller.
Her mom paces, hand dragging through her hair as she takes a drag of her blunt. "Do you have any idea how this makes us look?"
Susie swallows. "I told you I had a project."
"You didn't tell me anything!" Her mom snaps. "You disappear. You lie. And then you stroll in like nothing happened."
Susie's hands curl into fists at her sides.
She doesn't say what she's thinking.
She wishes it had been nothing.
Her mom stops pacing.
That's worse.
She turns slowly, eyes cold. "Do you think you can just do whatever you want?"
Susie shrugs again. It's instinct. Defense. It always makes things worse.
Her mom steps forward so fast Susie barely has time to register it.
"Don't you shrug at me."
The first shove isn't hard.
But it's enough to send Susie stumbling back a step, shoulder hitting the wall.
Her breath leaves her in a sharp exhale.
Her mom's voice is louder now. "I should call your father."
The words hit harder than the shove.
Susie freezes.
Her heart slams against her ribs.
"No—" She says immediately. Too fast. Too scared.
Her mom smiles.
That's the worst part.
"Oh?" She says. "You don't want that?"
Susie shakes her head, jaw clenched so tight it hurts. "Please."
Her mom's eyes glitter. "Then maybe you should remember your place."
She steps closer again. Susie presses herself back against the wall, palms flat against the peeling paint. Her mom grabs her arm. Not violently, but firmly, nails digging in just enough to hurt.
"You think you're tough?" Her mom hisses. "You think running around with those freak kids makes you something?"
Susie bites the inside of her cheek. She tastes blood.
Metallic. Warm.
Her jaw aches from how tightly she's holding it shut. She doesn't move. She doesn't breathe right.
Her mom's voice keeps going, words blurring together, sharp and relentless, but Susie isn't really hearing them anymore. She's counting instead. The ticks of the old clock in the living room. The hum of the fridge. The distance between this moment and something worse.
Then—
The front door opens.
Her stomach drops.
Her mom straightens instantly, fury rearranging itself into something colder. More deliberate.
Susie's head snaps up.
Footsteps. Heavy ones. Familiar ones.
Her dad's home.
"Finally," her mom says, loud enough for him to hear. "Your daughter decided to show up."
Susie's blood turns to ice.
Her dad appears in the doorway, coat still on, face already set in irritation. He looks at Susie like she's something he stepped in.
"What now." He says.
Her mom doesn't hesitate.
"She thinks she can ignore us," she snaps. "Disappears all night. Mouthy. Acting like she doesn't answer to anyone."
Her dad exhales sharply through his nose. "Is that so?"
Susie's fingers dig into her palms.
She shakes her head. "No— I—I I had school—"
Her mom cuts her off. "Don't you dare lie."
Her dad steps closer.
Each step feels like the floor tilting.
"You hear that?" He says. "Still talking back."
Her mom folds her arms. "Handle it."
That word handle hits harder than anything else. Or so she thought.
Susie's vision blurs.
"No." she says, the word tearing out of her before she can stop it. "Please—"
Her dad doesn't raise his voice.
That's worse.
He reaches out.
The first hit is sudden. Fast.
A sharp crack of sound. The world jerks sideways.
Susie stumbles, catching herself on the edge of the table. Her ears ring. Her face burns with the same familiar pain.
Her dad looms over her. "You think you can say no to me?"
Her mom watches from the side, expression tight, satisfied in a way that makes Susie's throat close.
"I told you." Her mom says. "She needs discipline."
Susie doesn't hear the next words clearly.
Everything narrows to noise and instinct.
Another shove. She nearly falls.
"Get up."
She does. Because not getting up is worse.
Her heart is pounding so hard she feels dizzy. Her hands won't stop shaking. She tastes blood again. Cheek, lip, she doesn't know.
She doesn't look at them.
She doesn't cry.
She doesn't give them that.
Eventually, she's not sure how long, it stops. Her dad steps back, breathing hard, like he's the one who's been wronged.
"Go." her mom says sharply. "Get out of my sight."
Susie doesn't need to be told twice.
She bolts.
She grabs her jacket from the hook, yanks the door open, and runs. Every step hurts. Every bit of weight put on her left leg sending her into pain. She sobs, pain stinging both inside and out.
Cold air slams into her lungs.
She doesn't stop running until her chest burns and her legs start to give out. Streets blur past. Houses. Trees. Nothing looks familiar anymore.
She doesn't know where she's going.
She just knows she can't go back.
By the time she slows, she's shaking violently, adrenaline crashing all at once. Her hands are numb. Her jaw aches from clenching it.
She stumbles toward a park.
The benches are empty. The swings creak faintly in the wind.
She collapses onto one, curling in on herself, jacket pulled tight. Her breath comes out in ragged bursts.
She laughs once.
It sounds wrong.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She doesn't check it. She doesn't need to.
She stares up at the sky instead.
Clouds roll slowly overhead. The air smells clean. Too clean for what just happened.
She tells herself she'll just rest for a minute. Just until her hands stop shaking.
Snow starts falling sometime after that.
At first it’s light. Barely noticeable. Just cold flecks melting against her skin. Then it gets heavier.
Susie doesn't move. She's too tired.
The bench grows colder beneath her. Snow dusts her jacket, her hair, the tops of her boots. Her breath fogs weakly in front of her face.
Her eyes flutter shut.
Snow settles quietly over her shoulders as the night deepens.
No one comes.
And Susie sleeps.
Freezing.