Sofiii

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie nodded, already pulling out his phone. “That dive bar downtown. They’ve got the shitty pool table and even shittier lighting.”

“I’m down,” said Tyler, still smiling. “First round’s on me.”

Everyone started to move fast, grabbing jackets, finishing the dishes, and asking where their hats were.

Carmy was quiet. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his eyes following the sound of your laugh from across the room.

“You comin’?” Richie asked him, noticing the look.

Carmy shrugged. “I guess.”

You turned around at the sound of his voice, and for a moment, your eyes met his. Something unreadable passed between you. Not tension. Not warmth either. Something else entirely.

“Let’s go,” you said.

And just like that, the Ridge emptied for the night.

The group had been in The Crooked Saddle for more than an hour now.  Richie was already naming shots, and alcohol was flowing through everybody’s system. Some more than others, of course. 

Conversation and jokes were happening at the same time music was sounding in the background from the speakers of the stage where bands were playing. 

“So Tyler… Your brother left a few days ago, right?” Nat asked the boy who was sitting in front of her at the table. 

“Yeah… he was only staying for a week.” He answered as he took a sip of his beer. 

You hadn’t spoken with Ethan ever since he left, and nobody mentioned anything about what happened that dinner night. 

Everything was laughter and jokes at the table. If everything was already fun when the group was together, imagine how it was when half of the group was feeling more than tipsy. 

You went to the bar and asked for another drink while you still had a glass half finished in your hand; in comparison to other people, you were about to ask for your second one. So you could say you were still sober. You sat, waiting for your drink with no rush, until a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. 

“Didn’t expect you to drink that,” Carmen said, his voice low against the buzz of the jukebox.

Things were kind of weird between you after that night. You could tell how he was trying to save the situation after what happened, but you weren’t sure why. And you weren’t going to be resentful and answer in a cold, dry way to his attempt at conversation either. 

“Well, what were you expecting?” You asked

“I don’t know… something softer?”

You lifted an eyebrow and called the bartender over

“Give me an Old Fashioned. Heavy on the bourbon.”

He laughed, soft and surprised.

You stayed in the bar drinking with Carmy. To your surprise, the conversation was going steady. It didn’t take long for the rest to notice that both of you weren't with the group. You weren’t the only ones that weren’t on the table, but it was more surprising since it was both of you; everyone was so used to both of you always fighting or discussing that it was weird when they saw you actually enjoying your time together. Which didn’t happen every often.

The first one to notice was Nat, obviously. She sighed in excitement, causing Mikey to look at her with worry. 

“You alright…?” He asked, seeing that she couldn't take her eyes off the scene. 

Natalie just smiled and pointed in your direction. Mikey called Richie the moment he saw both of you laughing. Richie turned around to grab his phone off the table to take a picture of you and his cousin, “Just in case something happens,” like he told the siblings. It was a simple picture, both of you with drinks in your hands, sitting in the bar talking. 

“Let’s get outta here and leave the lovebirds alone,” Mikey added 

Sugar gave him a confused look, “Without telling them?” 

“Exactly.”

And just like that, the group finished their drinks, paid, and left. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, or when exactly the rest of the group had left without saying a word. You looked over your shoulder toward the tables—they were empty.

Carmen caught the confused flicker in your eyes as you scanned the room.

“–Shit,” you muttered under your breath when realization hit. You were alone in a bar. With him.

He raised his brows, half amused, half caught off guard. “They left?”

You glanced toward the door, then back to the bar. “Apparently.”

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable, but aware.

“Guess they figured we were… occupied,” he added, lips twitching into the hint of a smirk. It faded quickly. “Didn’t think we were that obvious.”

Your stomach flipped a little. The dim lights, the buzz of the music, the drinks—all of it suddenly felt heavier.

“Well,” you said, standing a bit straighter, trying to shake the tension off your shoulders, “I guess that makes this our bar now.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Guess it does.” 

You finished your Old Fashioned, and Carmen finished his Tequila Sunrise. You looked around, trying to figure out what you could do; you weren’t going to sit in the bar all night with him. 

A spark appeared in your eyes the moment you spotted the pool table. You stood up, and Carmy followed you until you got to the table. A big spotlight on top of it made a difference in the lighting in comparison to where you were sitting in the bar, where red and blue neon lights of the signs lit your faces. 

You grabbed a pool cue and started to accommodate the balls. Once they were in the right place, you leaned on the table, watching the perfect angle to aim. Carmen watched your movements attentively with his eyes wide open. 

“You playing or you just gonna stand there and watch my pants?”  You said without looking at him, hitting the ball you wanted, causing the rest of them to scatter around the table. 

He didn't answer, just grabbed a pool cue and started to aim at a blue ball, and just like that, it sank in the pocket. 

“Didn’t know you could shoot like that.” You said with a tone of surprise as you leaned on the table again. 

“Only when I want to impress someone.” He replied with a smirk on his lips. 

As the minutes passed, there were only four balls left on the table, without counting the 8 ball. Both of you ordered another drink, one less heavy this time, you didn’t want to get up with a headache tomorrow.

After you sank another ball in the pocket, you took a sip of your drink, and you could feel how everything was starting to hit differently, for better or worse. 

Carmen leaned again after chalking the cue. He was one ball ahead of you, meaning that if he sank the one he was aiming at to he would only have the 8 ball left. And you wouldn’t let him win, at least not without trying to distract him.

You positioned yourself right in front of the pocket he wanted to sink the ball in. You leaned a little more, now with your arms on the table. 

“Is that your strategy? Distract me with the view?” Your intentions didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Is it working?” You asked, trying to hide the smirk that was forming on your face. 

He closed his eyes when he saw the ball rolling to the other side of the table, where it wasn't supposed to go. 

“Guess it did work,” You said with a winning grin on your face. 

After a few minutes, you were on the last round. Only the 8 ball was left on the table, and both of you were trying to sink it. 

“Something tells me I'm gonna win tonight.” He commented with a smirk as he pointed to the 8 ball, focusing on his aim. But unfortunately, he missed the shot as he heard your voice. 

A familiar slow tune echoed from the bar’s old speaker, which made your eyes wide open, and a spark you hadn’t felt in a while lit up.  

“ Wait…” You stopped, trying to recognize the tune “I love that song!” You said as you tried to move the way music did as you walked. 

Carmen looked at you, how you were enjoying the music, moving to the side as you put the pool cue in its place. He finished his drink with a dry sip, and with one hand on his neck, he asked softly, full of doubt.

“Dance with me?”

You looked at him with surprise, trying to see if he was being serious. It was obvious that alcohol was the one giving him that courage. After realizing that he was being serious, you gave him a gentle smile before saying, “I thought you'd never ask.”

Together you walked into the front of the stage, where other people were enjoying the music. The lights were dim, and the sound of the speaker was louder. After doubting a bit, you started to dance, moving your hips at the rhythm of the song.  

You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey. 

You’re as sweet as strawberry wine. 

With a little hesitation, Carmy offered you his hand, and gladly, you accepted it. The dance started kind of stiff, maybe because you were shy to be seen by him like this, or maybe because he knew he wasn’t much of a dancer. 

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time 

Already on your fourth drink, you felt how everything was brighter, and you could feel how the music moved your spirit. You didn’t care if Carmen saw you in this state, confident, happy, but mostly free. 

I've looked for love in all the same old places 

Found the bottom of a bottle's always dry 

As the music kept growing, the distance between you shortened.  His other hand went up to grab your waist, pulling you closer, his fingertips brushing the skin that your white tank top left on sight. Your free hand ran along the muscles of his arm until you reached his shoulder, staying there. 

But when you poured out your heart, I didn't waste it 

'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high

As you both let the music take control of your movements, you appreciated his features, and so did he. You noticed how a stubborn curl was hanging on his forehead, sticking out of the cowboy's hat. When your hand moved from his shoulder to his chest, you felt how slow his heartbeat was. Just like the look in his eyes, full of calm and another feeling you couldn't name yet, but you sure noticed it. 

And you're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey 

You’re as sweet as strawberry wine 

He was also paying attention to you. The way your hips moved, and how you were taller thanks to the heel of your boots. He watched how the dim lights hit your face. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes half-lidded, pupils wide blown from the drinks. 

You weren’t trying to be seductive. That was the worst part. You weren’t trying at all. You were just being you. And somehow, that made it worse. Or better. Or both.

And something clicked. Something he didn’t want to name. Something serious.

Was it possible that he might be catching feelings for you? 

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

The guitar riff kept going, and the end of the song was close. None of you won the game since you left it to come dancing, but Carmy was sure he won something else that moment. 

After a very strong twirl, you took one step too far. You weren’t sure who leaned first. Maybe both. All you knew was that his breath was mixing with yours now. 

Suddenly, an upbeat, fast-paced rhythm interrupted your thoughts. Realization hit, you were close, way too close. Both stepped back, blinking several times to snap out of the trance. Your hearts began to beat faster, and red began to creep onto your cheeks. You fixed your hair, and Carmy fixed his hat, which was sticking up. 

It was he who broke the silence between you. “We should get back to the table…” 

You didn’t talk; you were too stoned to speak, still processing what almost happened. You followed him to the table, you sat down, and not knowing what to do with your hands, your fingers were playing with your hair, and your foot tapped quickly on the floor.

Carmen was no better than you were. He needed to be away from you to calm his heart down so he could act normally when he came back. “I’ll grab us another round.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he walked away. 

You were still trying to hide your smile as you waited for him when the stool next to yours screeched against the floor and a man — maybe late forties, someone clearly from around here — sat down with a friendly nod.

“Mind if I say something?”

You looked at him, surprised, but shook your head.

“That boy you were just dancing with?” he said, gesturing loosely in the direction Carmy had walked off to. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Not just now, all night.” He took a sip of his beer. “Kinda makes a man jealous — not the way he looked at you, but the way you looked back. Like he was the only one in the room.”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. The stranger just smiled.

“I’ve been tending bar long enough to spot that look when it happens. Don’t let it go cold, sweetheart.”

And with that, he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone with that tiny little light flickering in your chest.

Your smile grew wider when you heard that comment. But it faded the moment you saw Carmy standing next to a familiar girl. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but seeing their interaction was more than enough. The familiar “hey!” with her hand on his arm in a greeting. The smiles on their faces as they had a conversation that seemed to last forever. It got worse when you saw how they laughed together.

After all this time, were you still a fool?. The first time, you were just naive, but now? You felt like a fool. “So all the rumors were true?” You never knew, you never wanted to know exactly what happened between them. And maybe that made things worse. 

You tried to look away, but you just couldn’t. When Carmy came back with two glasses in his hands. “I-uh, I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered Tennessee Whiskey,” He said before letting out a chuckle. 

You avoided his gaze. “Thanks,” a dry and simple answer as you grabbed the glass, not because you wanted to taste it, but because it gave your hands something to do. You turned your chair to the side so as not to look at him directly. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he could tell that you were not the same as how you were a few moments ago. He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t. He just adjusted his jacket and wondered what had happened while he was gone. 

You finished your glass faster than the other times; every sip was bitter. The music started to sound just like noise, and the bar didn’t feel like yours anymore. “We should go home…” You muttered softly. He looked at you with a concerned look, but he didn’t talk back. He just stood up and got ready to leave.

Just a few minutes ago, the space between you had been full of possibilities. Now, it felt like a closed door.

The ride back to the Ridge was quiet. That type of silence means that something has happened. You couldn't even turn on the radio because it broke a few weeks ago. The silence began to feel heavy, the only noise being the tires against the ground and the usual sounds of the night.

Carmy broke the silence, “It’s been kinda nice, you know. Tonight.” 

You sighed, “Yeah… it has.” 

Your answer was short, kind of cold. But you didn’t know what else to say. Carmy just looked at the road. Eventually, he would give a glance at you, but you didn’t look back at him. But you did hear the tap of his fingers on the steering wheel. You turned completely to look at the window; you didn’t want to face him. The summer night breeze moved your hair, and the view of the stars and the hills from afar was a nice distraction from your thoughts. 

The porch lights were still on. Inside the house, Nat, Richie, and Mikey were dancing to soft music in the living room; the rest of the group had already left. When they saw you both entering the house, not with the mood they had or expected you to have, they exchanged glances, and you saw their faces change at the realization that things didn’t go as planned.  

Richie was the one who broke the silence. “The hell happened to you two?” he asked half-jokingly. 

Nat raised her eyebrows when neither of you answered the previous question, so as sweet as ever, she asked again, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah. Just tired.” Carmy and you answered at the same time in a reluctant tone. 

You were the first one to go upstairs, locking yourself in your room. Carmy planned on doing the same after pouring himself some water, but that’s when everyone started to question him about what the actual fuck had happened. 

“For Christ's sake, guys! I don’t know what the fuck happened, alright?” 

The oldest siblings and their cousin just looked at each other, confused. They were still doubting about what had happened, but it was clear that neither Carm nor you would say something about it. 

Carmy walked away and went upstairs to his room just like you did. He leaned against the door, sighed, and took off his jacket, remaining in the darkness. He lay down with his hands on his head, frustrated. He felt like an idiot; he should’ve explained what happened years ago, and he should’ve clarified that interaction too tonight. But for him, it was too late, and honestly, for you too. 

In two separate rooms, lit by the same moonlight, two fools laid awake — for very different reasons. Reasons that brought back many bad memories from the past.

In your room, you started to take your makeup off. When you left your earrings on the bedside table, you walked to the window and sat by it, watching the moon shine. Then, your eyes wandered to the tiny stuffed bear Carm gave you a few weeks ago, you held it in your hands, and left it on the bottom drawer of your bedside table. That's when thoughts started to run through your mind. You knew better. And yet, you hoped. You had this feeling in your stomach, that same old feeling you felt five years ago. 

You weren’t sure why it stung like that. He was never yours.

“Careful with that, it’s older than all of us,”  you warned, sliding a corner of the tablecloth straight so it wouldn’t hang unevenly.. 

You placed them, avoiding the corners to touch the grass and leaving enough space between the hanging part of the cloth and the chairs. 

“You sure this is where DD wanted the tablecloths?” Richie asked, looking at the tables in front of you in the yard. 

“I mean… I guess. There aren't any other tables here.”  You answered with one hand on your forehead, wiping away beads of sweat, looking around at what you and your friend had done, the sunlight bouncing off the white cloth so bright you had to squint.

There were two places for people to eat, the outside tables and the inside tables. Carm and Nat were in the kitchen getting the food ready. Everybody always brought something to share, but Donna still insisted on preparing something for the guests. 

It was already way past noon, you could tell by how the sun was hitting your eyes and the way your clothes stuck to your skin. You were hoping that the weather would get better by the time the dinner started.  

Everything was almost ready: the light bulbs clinging from the trees, the fine china already on each table, and the house spotless. You just had to wait for the guests to arrive and get dressed up, of course. 

After a while of laughing at Richie’s complaints about the heat and finishing putting all the plates and cutlery you went back to the house to see what else needed to be done.  

When the floorboards creaked under your steps halfway to the kitchen, the smell of butter and lemon in the air hit you. It smelled amazing. You were sure it would be even better when it was already cooked. 

Nat had a satisfied grin on her face, she was taking out of the oven a tray with two big cherry pies for dessert. Carm stood with his sleeves rolled up, a stubborn curl hanging on his forehead as he seasoned the chicken with said butter and lemon mixture. It was next to a lot of already-cut vegetables, carrots, cherry tomatoes, and basil. 

“Is there anything else that’s left to do?” You asked Donna, who was already sitting on a chair in the kitchen with her cigarette between her fingers. 

“If y'all already took the tablecloths, where I asked to, then we are all set and done. If you and Nat want to get ready, you are free to leave.” She said kindly, exhaling smoke toward the open window like she was already picturing the night ahead. 

You did as Donna said and went upstairs with Nat. An hour and a half passed by, and you were just getting ready. You started with the hair, doing your usual routine in the shower, and then your hairstyle once it dried. The weather did get better as the afternoon went by, so you could leave your hair down without worrying about it sticking to your back. 

You moved on with your makeup, blue and silver eyeshadow, something subtle but sparkly, with a nice eyeliner to bring out the shape of your eyes. In all this time you were in Nat’s room, it was in the middle of the hallway, with two rooms apart from yours. 

The air was full of the smell of hairspray and perfume, you were with background music as you always did when you two got ready together, and of course, the laughs and jokes weren’t missed. 

“Something tells me that this is going to be quite a night,” You told the girl beside you as she painted her lips. 

“I already told you, it isn't dinner if something doesn't happen,” Sugar replied, walking to the speaker to turn up the volume of the song that was playing.  

Time passed flying, the sun was setting, and you were almost ready. Nat was already in her green dress, just finishing the last touch-ups of her outfit. You stepped out of the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror with doubt; something was missing. 

Nat noticed the look on your face.

“You look good. Don’t overthink it.” She said with a kind smile as she caressed your arm gently, and you smiled back at her. She analyzed your face and body. “I know what’s missing!” Nat pulled out of your jewelry box a silver necklace with a star in the middle that matched your hanging earrings.  

Both of you were officially ready to go downstairs. It was 5:30 pm. There were probably a few things that still needed to be accommodated. As soon as you left the room with Nat, you heard laughter and new voices, the porch doors opened, and a lady entered with a steaming pot between her hands. Donna welcomed her, and Richie took the hot pot to the kitchen, where the Berzatto brothers were. 

The kitchen was warm, the scent of roast chicken and basil heavy in the air. The outside lights were already on, and golden light from the sunset was entering through the porch windows. You stepped into the doorway, Carmy looked up from slicing bread and froze for a second, his eyes analyzing your entering being. Mikey noticed immediately.

“Wow, you ladies are lookin’ stunning,” he drawled, loud enough for the whole damn room to hear, “you’re wearin’ that in front of my brother? Man’s gonna drop dead.”

You shot him a smirk. “Well, thank you, cowboy. Didn’t realize my fashion choices had an audience.” You said doing a 360, trying to maintain balance on your silver heels. 

Carmy didn’t say anything,  but the corner of his mouth twitched and he couldn't help but stare probably longer than he should've. He was wearing a plaid white and light blue shirt, his curls weren’t as messy as they were in the morning, you noticed how they were even curlier. 

The three boys wore their everyday boots, cleaner this time, and their belt buckles. They definitely took their time getting dressed up, too; their shirts were steamed, and the smell of men’s cologne didn't go unnoticed in the air. 

As the minutes passed, more people started to arrive. The burst of laughter coming from the different groups of guests was louder, the smell of food stronger as it cooked, and the pink and orange tones in the sky were fading. Dinner hadn't even begun, but the night was already settling in. And you could feel it, it was going to be a very interesting night.   

The food was almost ready. The light bulbs hanging from the tree were already turned on. Distant conversations and the sound of clinking glasses filled the air, and everybody was getting ready in their seats.

The adults were at the biggest table inside the house, the one in the dining room. There were two other tables outside, the ones you accommodated with Richie; one was for the kids and pre-teens that came with their parents. And a third one, the one you were sitting at, was for young adults. It was far from the kids' one because it was obvious that inappropriate language was being used, and kids shouldn't be listening to that, but you were sure that with how loud everyone was talking, they heard anyway. 

You spotted Donna grabbing a young man’s arm, taking him to the table while they laughed. She pointed to the empty seat next to yours before kissing the young man on the cheek and walking away, blowing the smoke of her cigarette. 

“Mind if I crash here? Donna said this seat was free, but she didn’t mention it came with such a pretty company.”

You didn’t see him walk in your direction; you felt the redness on your cheeks as soon as you heard his unexpected comment. 

“Depends. Are you the kind of dinner guest that talks through the whole meal or the silent type that just stares awkwardly?” You smiled at him and tried to follow his vibe.

“I like to think I’m the intriguing type. But I guess we’ll find out.”  

His head turned to the side, like asking for permission, you nodded softly and watched him sit down on the wooden chair. 

“You’re Tyler’s brother, right? He told us you were only staying for a week.”

Ethan Moore was the smiley and kind type of guy. Those who would flirt with you for no serious reason. Those who are quite friendly and easy-going with people, and confident in what they say.

“Yeah. Quick escape from LA. Needed fresh air, new faces. And this place? It’s got good energy. The kind that makes you want to slow down.”  

He said, pouring himself a glass of water,

“That’s exactly what it’s like. Feels like a movie sometimes.” 

You adjusted your posture and sat up more attentively, excited to have a conversation with someone new.

“You're the main character, then?” He asked with interest in his voice. 

“Guess I’m still figuring that out.” You replied with a teasing smile on your lips. 

The food arrived, interrupting your conversation. Bowls and platters were passed around the table. You reached for a tray of roasted vegetables just as Ethan leaned slightly toward you again.

“You know,” he said, keeping his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the chaos of overlapping conversations, “You’ve got that look though… like someone who’s been through a lot and still hasn’t lost her softness. That’s rare.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “That’s… oddly nice. Thank you.”

He smiled, relaxed, like he had all night to talk to you. “Just don’t tell your boyfriend I said that. I’d hate to cause trouble on my first dinner here.” 

You scoffed, “Who said I had a boyfriend?” and with a half smile, you grabbed your glass of wine, taking a sip.  

From the other side of the table, your best friend watched the scene in silence. Nat discreetly nudged Richie in the ribs. He turned to look at her in confusion, and she nodded for him to look in your direction. It was like she was saying "uh-oh, look at that," with her eyes. 

Richie looked and muttered a soft “shit” under his breath, and like the good cousin he is, he nudged Carmy, repeating Nat’s actions a few seconds ago. Carmen’s breath caught for a second. He watched the movements of your hands, like you always do when you explain something. He didn’t hear what any of you were saying, but he saw your smile and Ethan's body leaned in interest. Carmy rubbed the back of his neck, clearly annoyed, but trying to play it cool.

“Relax, cowboy”. Richie’s voice got him out of that haze of discomfort. 

The rest of the dinner went on with laughter, shared stories, and more wine being poured than necessary. You barely noticed when Ethan got up to talk to someone else. Your plate was already empty, and your eyes kept drifting toward the inside of the house.  

Ethan came back after a few minutes, and you stepped inside the house to leave the dirty dishes in the kitchen. You realized you hadn't asked for each other's names properly. “Sorry for asking at night at this point, but what's your name?” You let out a nervous laugh, waiting for his answer. 

 “My name’s Ethan Moore,” He answered, “What’s yours?”  

When you opened your mouth to say your name, someone in the distance already did. 

“Yo… I see you’ve already met Ethan,” Mikey said before greeting his friend, “A bunch of us are sneaking off to the old stables, come if you’re brave enough.h He gave both of you a glare before he walked away.  

The stars were out, and the moon was high above the trees. You were walking through the back trail that led into the woods. Ethan was at the front talking to Mikey and Richie, and Nat was discussing something with other people that decided to come with you. And Carmy? He didn’t want to go, he said that it was a waste of time and that there was no need to take the dinner outside of the Ridge. But still, he followed you in silence, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. 

“You’re not seriously going to the stables, are you?” He said, speeding his steps.

You turned to him with a spark in your eyes. “Why not?”

“They’re basically a storage dump now. And kinda off-limits.”

“Kinda,” you echoed with a grin, stepping through the tall grass anyway.

You hadn’t been to the old stables in years. No one really had. They were mostly used for storage, broken saddles, crates, and dust now occupied the place where horses once slept. But you remembered the small cabin at the end of it. Some said it used to be a resting place for workers, others thought it had been part of a guesthouse long ago. No one really talked about it. Either way, it was off-limits. Which, of course, only made it more tempting. You remembered how it used to feel like a secret. And tonight, it felt like one again.

Nat came back to where you were. With clear discomfort on her face, her heels were now dirty due to the trail you were walking wasn't the most traveled. 

“How come none of us brought any flashlights? And the phones are dead, so,” She started to complain, as she closed her coat from the edges just like her mom does, supporting Carm's idea of going back to the house before it was too dark or too late. You just laughed at her expressions, your heels were a mess too, and the chilly night breeze was getting colder. 

Nat decided to go and ask Mikey how close you were to the stables. Leaving you and Carmy alone. You had no problem staying silent, and you would’ve, but the four glasses of wine started to kick in, causing you to lose any type of resentment that was in your mind. At least that moment. 

“Food was really good, Carm. I really enjoyed the chicken. I think that butter mix you made was the best.”

 You tried to start a conversation with him, hoping that it would flow. But to your surprise — or maybe not — it didn’t.

“It wasn’t a butter mix, and it wasn’t a big deal anyway.”  He rolled his eyes as he spoke, barely looking at you.

You frowned. “Okay... Sorry for complimenting your not-butter mix, I guess.”

You kept walking for a few steps in silence, but something about his tone made you pause.

 “You’ve been weird all night,” you added softly, not even trying to hide the concern in your voice.  “Did something happen?

Carmy exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated. “No. Nothing happened.”

You looked at him, still unconvinced.

“Is this about the stables? Or…”

That hit a nerve.

“I just didn’t know you were so into LA guys with charming lines and shiny teeth.” He couldn’t take it anymore; he had to say something about what was annoying him so much. 

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” You snapped back at such a comment

 “Is he your type or something?”

 “Are you asking as my boss or as someone who was clearly eavesdropping?” 

You crossed your arms, waiting for an explanation about this sudden behavior. 

 “Nothing. Just–forget it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, speeding up his steps. 

 He knew he fucked up. There was no reason why he would’ve answered your attempt at conversation like that. You were literally complimenting his food, a nice comment, but he just couldn’t help the weird feeling, that mixture of emotions. If you were clueless about his reaction, imagine how clueless he was. 

Was it possible that Carmen Berzatto was… jealous? There was no valid reason why he could be, you were his… friend, if you can call each other like that after these weeks. And there wasn’t any other reason any of you knew about. 

He kept walking ahead, leaving you behind with the sound of gravel and questions swirling in your head.

After walking a little more, the group stopped. The main doors to the stables creaked when Richie pushed them open. Inside, everything smelled like dust and old wood. Piles of forgotten things were stacked high: crates, tools, furniture that had seen better days.

There wasn’t much to see, really; it was just the thrill of changing the environment and doing something that was kinda forbidden. Donna made clear that the stables were forbidden, but she never mentioned anything about the old ones.  

Everyone stepped inside the old stable, old wood creaking at every step. The group dispersed through the stable, just looking around and making jokes. The only thing that gave light was the lighter that your friends had, one good thing about them smoking.  

You walked and found an old cowboy’s hat hanging on a hook. It was out of your reach, so you grabbed a chair that was near the hat and stepped up on it. The hem of your dress was in one hand, and the other was grabbing the wall to keep you steady on the old chair. When you finally reached for the cowboy’s hat, the chair creaked, scaring you a little. 

When you turned around, Ethan was right beside you. 

“Need any help?” He already had a hand extended in the air to help you get down from the chair. 

You accepted the help, placing your hand on top of his and stepping down slowly. You mutter a soft “Thank you” while fixing the hem of your dress. You looked around, trying to see where everyone was, and then your eyes stopped scanning the room when you saw Carmy watching you. He immediately removed his eyes from yours, like he did most of the time. 

You showed Ethan the hat you reached, continuing the conversation with him. But avert your eyes every once in a while to see if he was still watching. 

He didn’t know, he didn’t understand why, but the moment Carmen saw your smile and heard your laugh at a joke, Ethan said, and your hand on his, he realized it. He was actually jealous. He turned away, jaw tight, forcing himself to focus on anything but the sound of your laugh. But it echoed in his head anyway, louder than the creaking wood or the sound of voices.  

The group gathered again, ready to go back to the house. He took a glance at you one more time, how the breeze moved your hair and how the satin fiber reflected the moonlight on your dress.

He could never say it, and he tried not to show it when he first saw you in the kitchen, but he did think. God, you looked beautiful. Your hair a little messy, your lipstick glossy, the blue dress hugging your figure. He could stare at you all night if you let him, but unfortunately for him, it was time to go back home. 

Most of the guests had already left, and only a few who helped settle and clean things up stayed. Almost everything was already in its place. Of course, there were things left to pick up and clean, but you could do it tomorrow. 

You accompanied Ethan to the front door. 

“Shame I’m leaving so soon this week. Feels like something was just about to start, you know? Summer always does that.” He spoke as he put his coat on, “You should visit LA sometime. We’ve got sunshine, beaches, and... way more guys who’d kill for a chance to sit next to you at dinner.” 

You smiled at him and chuckled at his flirty comment. “It was quite an intriguing night," you said, repeating the words he said earlier. 

Richie and Mikey appeared to say goodbye to their friend. He shook hands with you, but not after giving you a cocky smile, and then left with his friends who walked him to the front gate.

You stepped outside to the porch in need of fresh air before going to bed. You needed to clear your mind. But what you didn’t know was that there was someone else out there, too. 

Carmy was sitting in one of the wooden rocking chairs with a cigarette between his fingers. You sat next to him; the tension was clear in the air due to your last conversation. 

Ethan’s comment left you anxious, flashbacks of the past and possible scenarios for the future were running through your mind, and a question was taking up the most space in your head.

“Do you ever think what’ll happen when summer’s over?” You looked at the boy next to you with tired eyes and a spark of hope that he noticed. 

He blew out the smoke from his cigarette before answering. “I try not to.”  Without hesitation, he offered you the cigarette, and you accepted it. Your fingers brushed when you grabbed it; you didn’t notice, but he did. 

You took a drag out of the cigarette, smoke filling your lungs while you were formulating your next sentence, you were going to ask him why he tries not to, when a sudden voice called you from inside the house. You left the cigarette on the glass ashtray of the table that was between you before sharing a look with Carm.  Inside the house, you found Donna already in her pajamas. She asked if everyone had left already, and you nodded in response. 

“Good night, sweetie, we’ll finish the rest tomorrow.” She said as she walked up the stairs.

It was a short conversation, probably less than two minutes.

 You walked out to the porch again, only to find both rocking chairs empty and the cigarette still where you placed it. The only thing left was the lingering warmth of the cigarette now between your fingers and a question you weren’t sure you wanted answered. 

You sighed as you stared at the empty rocking chair for a second longer than you should’ve.

He was gone. Again.