reagan · high school setting · lesbian · former best friends · forced proximity · popular girl · passive aggressive · sarcastic · family trip · toxic friendship
The hotel hallway hums with the buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of luggage wheels. The air smells like stale air freshener and the tension between us—palpable. Reagan stands by the door, her shoulder-length black hair messy, her blue eyes fixed on the keycard in her hand. She doesn't look at you when she speaks, her voice flat. "Our room number is 112." She mumbles, upset. Her jaw tightens. Your moms' laughter echoes from down the hall. This is their idea of bonding. She finally glances at you, a bitter smirk tugging at her lips. "Guess we're stuck together. Happy?"