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The bar had the kind of low ceiling that made everybody’s voice climb whether they meant it to or not, heat pressed down from too many bodies, too many jackets shrugged halfway off and forgotten over chair backs, and Dani felt it the second she stepped in behind Kourtney and Carlos—the usual Thursday crowd, the same bad lights, somebody already arguing near the jukebox like the night had been underway long before any of them arrived. She should have liked that, usually did, because noise gave her something to disappear inside when she wanted it, but tonight even before she saw Gabby she had the sharp, ridiculous awareness that she had checked whether Gabby's team had posted anything from track an hour earlier and then hated herself for knowing the answer before she reached the table.
Kourtney slid in first, purse against the wall, Carlos still talking about somebody from rehearsal who had nearly missed an entrance, and Dani dropped into the seat opposite them, smoothing her hair back over one shoulder because it had caught under the strap of her bag. The crop top had felt right in her mirror before they left—blue, orange, purple, bright enough that she looked awake even after a long day, jeans fitted close enough that sitting required the tiny adjustment she pretended not to make in public—and now she tugged once at the hem beneath the table, mostly because the bartender had already glanced over and she had not picked a drink yet.
She did not need to look up when the chair at the end scraped. Hanna’s laugh came first, Jai saying something too low to catch, then Gabby’s voice underneath both, late enough that Dani turned before she could stop herself.
The white T-shirt should not have been a problem. Neither should the bomber jacket left open, sleeves still down, hair pushed back in that low ponytail she must have tied after track because a few shorter pieces near her temple had already loosened. Jeans, dark enough to look nearly black under the bar lights. Nothing arranged, nothing trying. Dani watched Gabby pull the chair out with one hand, apologize to nobody in particular for being late, and sit like she had come straight from somewhere that mattered more than deciding how she looked getting here.
The bartender came back around before Dani had made herself look away.
Gabby barely glanced at the menu. “Guinness.”
It came easy, immediate, like she had known before sitting down, and Dani heard herself answer before the pause after it finished existing.
“Same.”
Carlos stopped halfway through reaching for the napkin holder. “Since when did that happen?”
The question landed with exactly enough surprise that Kourtney’s eyes lifted over the rim of her glass before Dani even finished leaning back. She smiled because that was easier than taking it back now, fingers folding around the edge of the table.
“What? I’m full of surprises.”
Carlos kept looking at her another beat, not convinced, then let the corner of his mouth move like he had filed it away for later. Across from him Jai had already turned back toward Hanna, talking about some professor who had apparently changed deadlines twice in one week, and Dani used the opening to breathe once through her nose, slow enough that nobody would notice she had nearly ordered a Paloma and somehow not done it.
The drinks arrived fast, two dark pints set down first, and the second one looked wrong in front of her immediately, heavier somehow than she had expected once it belonged to her hands instead of Gabby’s.
Gabby noticed before she touched it. Noticed everything, apparently. Her eyes dropped to the glass, then came back.
“You drink Guinness?”
A laugh escaped Dani too quickly, thin enough that she heard it herself and hated hearing it. She lifted the pint anyway, because hesitation now would have made Carlos unbearable.
“Of course I drink Guinness.” The first sip touched her mouth and she kept her face still through the swallow by force more than grace, setting it down with care she hoped looked deliberate. “What, do I look like I only order citrus and tequila?”
Kourtney made a noise into her own drink that could have been a laugh or restraint; Dani did not check which. Gabby had shifted one arm onto the table, sleeve nudged up a little without seeming aware of it, and that was when Dani saw the bracelet.
Dark braided cord, worn enough near the knot that the threads had gone pale in one spot.
Her stomach dropped in the stupidest way because she knew it. Knew it instantly.
One old track picture, taken outdoors in hard light, Gabby half turned away while somebody else leaned into frame, that same bracelet near the bottom edge where Dani had stopped scrolling because she had already been on the account longer than she meant to be. There had barely been anything there—too few posts, captions that said nothing useful, one backstage photo where Gabby had not even been centered—and she had kept looking anyway until her thumb hit follow by mistake and the number at the top of her own page changed from five to six so fast it almost felt louder than the room around her. She still remembered the cold jolt of seeing it, the immediate flood of notifications, fan accounts quicker than mercy, one screenshot already posted before she had even unfollowed.
Back to five in seconds.
Still long enough that Gabby could have seen it.
Still long enough that Dani had spent two full days pretending her phone had not become unusable.
“Why is it so thick?”
The question left before she could stop it, dragged back into the present by the taste still sitting wrong on her tongue. Gabby looked at the glass, then at her, mouth shifting faintly.
“It’s stout.”
“Yes, I know it’s stout.” Dani took another sip because pride had become its own punishment. The displeased pull of her mouth came before she hid it. “Love that for me.”
The laugh Gabby gave then stayed low, close enough that Dani heard it separate from everything else in the room. Not loud, not offered to the table, just that brief drop of breath with her head dipping once, fingers still curved around the glass.
Something in Dani tightened strangely around that smallness. She reached for her own pint again though she did not want more yet, laughed too because not laughing would have meant sitting there with the feeling fully intact.
To her left, Kourtney leaned in toward Carlos while Dani kept her eyes down a second too long on the bracelet still visible near Gabby’s wrist.
“Oh, she’s too far gone.”
Carlos did not answer out loud. The silence after came with one quick glance across the table, enough agreement in it that Dani felt looked at without catching why, and by then Gabby had pushed the sleeve higher again because the room was warm, bracelet settling closer to her hand, forearm bare now against the table.
Dani took another sip she regretted halfway through and set the glass down more carefully than necessary.
“What’s your sign?”
The question arrived into a gap nobody had prepared for. Hanna looked up briefly from whatever Jai had just said, then back down at her phone. Kourtney’s brows lifted a fraction.
Gabby’s attention moved to her without hurry, like she was figuring out whether Dani had asked that on purpose or simply reached for the nearest thought.
“Uh..Capricorn.”
Dani turned the word over for a second she did not fill, thumb damp where it traced the side of the glass. “Mm.”
A loose strand had fallen from Gabby’s ponytail by then, barely touching near her cheek until she pushed it back with the hand wearing the bracelet, and Dani missed half of whatever Carlos started saying because she had looked too long at the movement, then at Gabby’s mouth when she lowered her hand again.
The room had become louder somehow, everybody else leaning into separate conversations, and Dani heard herself laugh at something Gabby said a minute later that had not deserved quite that much laughter, enough that Gabby’s eyes narrowed slightly—not suspicious, just curious now—and held there.
That look stayed long enough Dani finally tipped her chin, trying to make lightness appear where it had started failing.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Gabby did not answer right away. Her thumb shifted once against the side of the glass, the bracelet sliding nearer her wrist bone as she looked down and then back.
“Trying to figure out what got into you tonight.”
The words settled low, almost swallowed by the noise around them, and Dani felt the heat rise under her skin before she had anything ready to throw back. She laughed because silence would have said too much, but the laugh arrived unfinished. Her fingers found the edge of the glass again, adjusted it though it did not need moving, and when Kourtney stood to head toward the bar Dani followed the motion almost gratefully.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, already halfway up, voice aimed nowhere in particular, and the chair scraped behind her hard enough that Carlos moved his knee aside without comment while Dani reached for her bag she did not need and left the table before anyone could ask for anything.
The hallway outside the bathrooms held a different kind of heat than the bar, thinner somehow, trapped under fluorescent light that flattened everybody waiting there into tired faces and crossed arms, a line already bent halfway toward the wall by the time Dani got there. She stopped near the back, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder though it kept slipping because she had brought it only to avoid looking like she fled the table with nothing in her hands. The music from inside reached the corridor as a dull pulse through plaster, bass more than melody, enough that conversation came in pieces when people farther up the line tried for it.
Her mouth still tasted faintly bitter.
That alone annoyed her.
The Guinness sat badly enough she considered blaming the whole thing on that, on ordering something she did not even like because Gabby had said one word first and that had been enough to derail basic decision-making, but the thought barely formed before footsteps came down the hall behind her, familiar even before she turned.
Gabby slowed when she saw the line, one hand already at the edge of her jacket as though she had nearly reached for the pocket and changed her mind. She took the place beside Dani because there was nowhere else to stand that did not look taken.
Neither of them said anything for a second.
The fluorescent light should have helped. Dani had counted on that without admitting she had counted on it at all—bad light made everybody ordinary again—but Gabby still looked unfairly untouched by it, hair loosened more now than at the table, one piece resting near her jaw until she tucked it back again, bracelet visible because the sleeve had stayed pushed up.
Two people ahead shuffled forward. The line compressed.
Dani looked toward the bathroom door before she realized she had been looking at Gabby’s wrist again.
“So...Do you always order Guinness?”
The question came out softer than she intended, nearly folded into the music leaking through the wall.
Gabby leaned just enough to hear her without making it obvious. “Mostly.”
“That’s a choice you made early, huh.”
A faint breath of laughter touched the side of Dani’s face before Gabby answered, not quite looking at her yet. “It’s beer.”
Dani let that sit, mouth pulling once at one corner because she knew how little she had given herself to work with there. Somebody farther up the line pushed the door open, another person stepped out, and the row moved again in a small uneven shift that carried everybody forward half a step at once.
A shoulder from behind brushed her harder than expected.
Her foot caught slightly wrong against the floor, not enough to stumble properly, but enough that Gabby’s hand came up on instinct and found her elbow before she corrected herself.
It lasted a second, maybe less.
Warm through denim, fingers closing just enough to steady and then gone again almost before Dani had registered the pressure.
Still, she felt the absence the moment it lifted.
“You okay?”
The question came low, close enough that Dani could have ignored it and still heard it.
She pushed hair behind one ear though nothing had fallen loose there, eyes fixed ahead because turning too quickly felt dangerous now. “I’m fine.”
The answer came whole, but the breath after it did not. She pressed her lips together once, then glanced sideways despite herself.
Gabby was already looking at her.
Not heavily. Not pinned there. Just that same quiet attention from the table, like whatever had started there had followed them down the hall and had not decided to leave yet.
The line barely moved. Somebody at the front laughed too loudly at something inside the bathroom and the door swung shut again.
Dani held the look a second longer than she meant to, then glanced toward the floor, mouth tightening around a thought that should have stayed there.
“You keep doing that.”
Gabby did not ask what she meant right away. Her shoulder shifted against the wall instead, jacket brushing lightly when she adjusted her stance.
“Doing what.”
“Looking at me like you know something.”
The answer came before Dani had fully thought whether it sounded ridiculous, and once it existed she wished she had chosen almost anything else.
A small pause sat between them, not awkward yet, just full enough that Dani heard somebody farther back in line unzip a bag.
Gabby’s thumb dragged once along the seam of her jacket, bracelet slipping when her wrist turned.
“Maybe I do.”
“you do?”
She meant it lightly. It came out thinner than that.
Gabby’s mouth shifted at one corner, almost a smile, gone before it settled.
“You ordered a Guinness you don’t even like.”
Someone behind them sighed dramatically, another shuffle forward, and Dani stepped with the line before realizing Gabby had moved at the same time, close enough now that their sleeves brushed once and separated.
The contact stayed with her longer than it should have.
The door opened.
Two people came out talking over each other, one girl fixing lipstick in the mirror by the sinks before she even cleared the doorway, and the line shortened enough that Dani knew she would be inside in another minute.
Gabby shifted back half a step, making room she had not asked for.
At the table Dani had managed words because words kept things from settling. Here every sentence was thinner, half-used before she touched it.
“You knew, didn’t you.”
The thought escaped before she decided whether it should, and Gabby tipped her head slightly, waiting.
Dani regretted it immediately, but she had started now. “The follow.”
A flicker crossed Gabby’s face—recognition first, then something close to amusement she did not fully let out.
“The one that lasted ten seconds?”
Heat climbed straight into Dani’s face.
“It did not last ten seconds.”
“Long enough.”
The answer came dry enough that she heard the laugh tucked under it, and because the girl ahead of her stepped into the bathroom right then Dani had nowhere to put the sudden urge to smile except down at the floor.
“Those people notice everything,” she muttered, almost to herself.
Gabby’s hand lifted once, then stopped short of her sleeve this time, settling instead against the wall beside her shoulder.
“So do you.”
Dani looked up before she meant to.
The bathroom door opened again.
Someone called that there was room.
For a second she only stood there, hand already on the strap of her bag, not moving because Gabby’s words had stuck with her.
Then she pushed the door open and stepped inside before her face could betray more than it already had, catching one last glimpse in the mirror as it swung shut—blue hair down her back, mouth still parted slightly, expression giving away far more than she liked.
By the time she came back out, the hallway had emptied.
Gabby was waiting near the wall, one shoulder against it, looking up only when the door clicked behind her.
Neither of them mentioned that part.
They walked back toward the bar side by side, slower than the hallway required, and Dani knew before they reached the table that sitting through the rest of the night was going to be harder now than it had been before she stood up.
Back at the table, the night loosened around everyone else faster than it did around Dani. Carlos had somehow acquired fries nobody admitted ordering, Kourtney stole half of them without asking, Hanna was already halfway through a story Jai kept interrupting to correct in ways that only made her talk louder, and all of it should have given Dani enough ordinary noise to settle again. It did not. The Guinness stayed in front of her mostly untouched now, damp ring widening under the glass, because every time she reached for it she remembered the hallway, Gabby’s hand at her elbow, the bracelet shifting when her wrist turned against the wall.
Kourtney noticed before anyone said anything aloud. She always did. When she stood and reached for her bag, she tipped her chin toward Dani first.
“We’re heading out.”
Carlos slid out after her, still chewing, one hand already digging his keys from his pocket. Dani looked up too fast, like she had been pulled back from farther away than she meant to travel.
“You need a ride?” Kourtney asked it lightly, but the look attached to it had more weight than the words.
“No.” Dani reached for her own bag though it was already in her lap. “I’m good.”
The answer came quick enough that Kourtney’s mouth moved once, almost smiling, almost not. She did not press. That mercy felt deliberate.
Hanna and Jai peeled off a few minutes later—Jai answering a text, Hanna complaining about an early class —what stayed at the table felt thinner than before, quieter not because the bar had emptied but because Dani had run out of things to hide inside.
Gabby stood when she did, like it had already been decided somewhere neither of them needed to mention.
Outside, the air hit cooler than she expected, carrying the stale sweetness of spilled beer from the doorway before the street opened wider and cleared it. Dani tucked hair behind one ear as they started walking, then pulled a packet of gum from her bag almost immediately because her hands needed something.
“You want one?”
Gabby took the piece she offered without looking surprised by the question, fingers brushing hers only long enough to matter because Dani noticed it anyway.
The wrappers crackled in the quiet between them. She folded hers once, twice, tucked it back into the packet; Gabby folded hers neatly and slid it into her jacket pocket like she had done that same thing a hundred times before.
That should not have been interesting either.
It was.
The campus had gone softer this late—windows lit in scattered squares, voices carrying from farther off, somebody laughing near the dorm steps before a door shut and took the sound with it.
“Have you ever been to Japan?”
The question came out before Dani chose it, somewhere between one sidewalk crack and the next.
Gabby glanced over, chewing once before answering. “No.”
“You’d go?”
“Yeah.” A beat passed while they crossed another stretch of sidewalk, then, almost as an afterthought, “Wouldn’t mind seeing Tokyo. Trains run on time there.”
Dani turned toward her properly at that, one brow lifting before she caught herself doing it.
“That’s the selling point?”
Gabby’s mouth shifted before the laugh reached it.
“It’s a city.”
The answer came dry enough that Dani caught the joke a second late, which made the small giggle after it worse somehow—lighter than the laugh at the bar, brief enough she nearly wondered if she imagined it until Gabby glanced down and the corner of her mouth gave it away again.
Dani looked ahead before she could get caught staring at that too.
“I just know you’d get there and know exactly where everything is by day two.”
Gabby adjusted her hands deeper into her jacket pockets, shoulders lifting once against the cold.
“I’d read whatever was in front of me.”
“Very Capricorn of you.”
That finally earned another laugh, quieter this time, with Gabby turning her head just enough that Dani caught it in profile.
This time the laugh stayed a little longer. Dani caught it and felt something loosen low in her chest before tightening again when silence returned.
They crossed at the corner near her building, the light already blinking though no cars were coming. Dani hooked the gum packet back into her bag, then took it out again almost immediately just to have something to do.
She took the gum packet out again, thumb worrying the edge before she tucked it back into her bag.
She took the gum packet out again, thumb worrying the edge before she tucked it back into her bag.
“Do answers always come that fast with you?”
The line bent halfway through because she had not decided whether it was teasing or not.
Gabby kept her eyes ahead for a few steps, hands still in her jacket pockets, shoulders easier now than they had been an hour ago.
“Questions tonight haven’t exactly been forgettable.”
That should have embarrassed her more than it did.
Dani smiled into the dark, faint enough that nobody passing would have seen it, the expression staying there a second longer than she meant for it to.
“Right...”
The word barely counted as an answer. She shifted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, then, quieter, “Some nights make it worse.”
Gabby looked over then, not long, just enough that Dani felt it before she turned toward her.
“Could be worse.”
A beat passed, the corner of her mouth moving slightly before she added, “None of it’s been bad.”
Dani thought about the earlier conversation—Guinness, the follow, the hallway.
She slowed at her steps, turning because the front door was there now and that gave the night an edge she had not prepared for. One more step and it ended.
Streetlight caught the side of Gabby’s face unevenly, left one eye brighter than the other, the loose strand near her temple still out from the ponytail entirely now. From here, standing one step lower on the pavement while Dani stayed on the first stair, the height changed just enough that she noticed her mouth again before she wanted to.
Too long this time.
No room to pretend she had been looking somewhere else.
Gabby noticed. Of course she did. Her hand came out of her pocket and settled against the railing instead of reaching farther, fingers closing once around the cold metal.
Neither of them said anything.
The quiet stretched—not awkward, not empty, just full enough that Dani heard her own breathing and wished she did not.
The almost-kiss arrived there without movement first, in the way both of them stopped speaking and did not fix it. Dani felt it before either of them leaned anywhere, in the pause where leaving should have happened and did not.
Gabby’s mouth shifted a little, the hint of something that almost became a smile before she glanced past Dani toward the darkened street.
“Um..Early class tomorrow.”
Dani caught that it was more like an explanation than a goodbye.
Dani let out a breath that turned into a small laugh before she could stop it. “Right. Responsibilities.”
Gabby’s hand moved along the railing once, fingers tapping the metal as if checking it was there.
“Someone has to uphold them.”
That earned a quiet shake of Dani’s head. The sound that left her then barely counted as another laugh.
The door handle felt colder than she expected when she reached for it.
“Night, Gabby.”
A second passed before the answer came, softer, already a step back toward the sidewalk.
“Night, Dani.”
The door closed between them before either of them tried to add anything else.
The door shut behind her with the heavy click she had heard a hundred times before and never noticed. Tonight it felt loud enough to separate two different versions of the same hour.
She stood still for half a second, then turned, dropped back against the door, and slid down until the floor caught her, face already in both hands before she finished exhaling.
"One more second and I was going to drop dead."
The words came muffled against her palms, though the laugh underneath them betrayed her immediately.
Her phone buzzed almost at once.
She pulled it out too fast.
A message from gabby waiting before she had even unlocked the screen fully.
We can take it slow. Promise.
Dani stared at it long enough that the screen dimmed once before she touched it again, shoulders still against the door, smile arriving where nobody could see it now except the dark apartment and herself, which somehow made it worse.