Chapter Text
Hanni grimaced as the girls swarmed her, all pretty, blonde, and popular. She hated this. She had been doing just fine in dance P.E., an option she hadn’t even been aware of before being placed there.
When her father told her they would be moving to America, the first thing she and her group of friends did was pick out the most popular movies that took place in American high schools. All her friends giggled and gasped at the excessive amount of making out and alcohol consumed. They teased her, half-joking that she’d have a football boyfriend by the end of the week, while the others hoped she’d fall for the cute, nerdy guy.
Hanni wanted neither.
She wanted to be someone like Elle Woods — someone who, sure, started out doing everything for a man, but eventually became a headstrong woman who prioritized her studies and stopped caring about relationships and men altogether.
That’s what Hanni wanted. And for a while, she had it.
She was top of her class in math, science, and to her own surprise, English too. No one knew about this, of course. No one cared about the top of the class — they cared about who slept with who, who was dating who, and how many “bodies” someone had under their belt. It had taken her a long time to realize that didn’t mean how many murders they’d committed.
She wasn’t popular.
She had her friends: a half-Japanese girl who always wore tights with dog breeds on them, both in dance class and out of it, and an awkward white girl with braces and glasses as thick as her thumb. It was clear from the beginning that this dance P.E. class wasn’t anything like the dance classes she was used to. Back home, her mom had finally given in to her begging and enrolled her in a proper dance academy when Hanni decided she wanted to become a K-pop idol. This class, however, seemed to be meant for students who were too unathletic for normal P.E., only slightly above the social suicide podium that the JROTC kids were placed at the bottom of.
No one knew who she was, and she was grateful for it.
Juria and Ashley were always supportive, never complaining when Hanni canceled plans because she was busy with homework — which was all the time.
That was, until her mother fell into the clutches of the white ladies at the country club she had started going to after getting bored of being a simple housewife. They sank their claws into her mother’s mind, filling it with ideas that if Hanni became a cheerleader, she’d gain tons of friends, just like their daughters, Tim and Tam or whatever the hell their names were.
Hanni hadn’t cared.
She had been happy with her life. But now here she was, staring at the paper taped to the locker room door, her name ninth on the list of new varsity cheerleaders — one of only three freshmen who had made the team.
“O-M-G! Hanni, I’m so glad you made the team! The coach was whining about diversity, and now we have a Vietnamese here with us!” Katherine exclaimed.
Hanni nodded, smiling in the way her mom hated, her front teeth awkwardly exposed.
“Yes! Now you don’t have to be stuck in that smelly little dance room with all those weirdos,” another girl chimed in.
“Ew, she was in dance P.E.? I heard that lesbo Minji was in that class, so I made sure I avoided it like the plague.”
“No way — she was in a class with Minji?! Hanni, how did you survive that?”
Hanni shrugged.
She had no idea who Minji was.
She had never seen or heard of the girl before. Her classmates hardly ever mingled with one another — at least not with her. Juria and Ashley never gossiped either, so Minji was a complete nobody in Hanni’s eyes.
She seemed popular, though, judging by their reactions. Perhaps this was someone Hanni should expect to befriend.
“Anyway, I heard Josh Rossi has an eye on you,” a black girl — Sarah, she thought — nudged her.
The chatter continued until the coach finally shooed them out of the locker room. Hanni was the first to grab her bag and rush out. The school gate was just within reach when a hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back slightly.
She turned to see a girl with plump, glossy lips, wavy hair, and glasses grinning widely at her. They were around the same height, and Hanni wondered why the girl was stopping her now when she hadn’t initiated conversation once during tryouts.
“Hi! I’m Danielle!” the girl said, stretching her hand out and waiting patiently for Hanni to shake it.
“Um… hi?”
“Oh! Right — sorry, you don’t know me. I was in your group during drills yesterday. I’m the sophomore who’s friends with Haerin.”
Hanni paused, racking her brain for any recollection of the girl. Haerin was a familiar name — a returning varsity member whose position as a flyer and occasional tumbler made her someone worth observing. Danielle, on the other hand, didn’t ring a bell.
“Oh! Yes, yes, I remember now!” she lied.
Danielle’s face brightened.
“Well, anyway — I saw them all crowding you in there, so I didn’t want to overwhelm you even more. They can be a lot to deal with. If you ever need someone to talk to… well, I’m here. I’m new to this team too — not to cheerleading, but to this team — so maybe we can stick together.”
“I’d really like that, actually.”
***
Hanni placed her books into her bag and walked out of the classroom just as the bell rang, her timing perfect. She was first at many things: first to leave class, first to get lunch, first in all her subjects, and to her own disdain, first on the list of the most “crackable” girls in school.
She huffed as a boy rushed up beside her.
Josh.
It had been two years since she arrived in America — two years in which she had climbed the ranks of the school’s social hierarchy, surpassing Katie, the cheer captain at the time, within her first week on the team. Now she was a junior, co-captain of the squad alongside Haerin and Dani.
Their predominantly white school seemed to love a bit of flavor.
Rising in the ranks came with reputations and rumors attached to names. Haerin’s were centered around her “kitty kang” nickname, her ditzy demeanor, and the three boyfriends she’d had over the years. Every day, a new boy claimed he’d slept with her, and people believed them all.
Dani was the school’s princess — kind to most, her smile always bright, yet strangely untouchable. No long-term boyfriend, barely drank at parties. Rumor had it she was engaged to some rich Australian guy back home.
Hanni, on the other hand, had earned the title of “Ice Queen.” Maybe it was her expressionless face, or the fact that her sarcastic comments were taken far too literally. Danielle said it was her tone. Even though Hanni excelled in English, her accent still slipped through at times, and people mistook her fully sarcastic remarks for genuine cruelty.
She made no effort to change. It kept people at a distance.
Josh, however, hadn’t gotten the memo.
Someone she despised. Someone she regretted.
The pressure of suddenly being known had pushed her into his arms — fake smiles, a stolen first kiss, and weeks of her life wasted on a boy she had no interest in. He was attractive, she’d admit that much. It had made pretending easy at first.
Dani and Haerin had known it was a farce. Everyone else ate it up.
Then she noticed things: his smile was too practiced, his laugh too fake, his body too hard. There was no softness to him at all. And when he realized she was losing interest, he cheated.
He thought it would make her want him more. Instead, it freed her.
The students of Hybe High School still clung to the hope that they’d reunite, feeding Josh’s delusions by interpreting Hanni’s single status as heartbreak.
She stepped closer, gripping the back of his neck and whispering into his ear.
“If you don’t want rumors going around about your dick being the size of my pinky, you’ll leave me the fuck alone.”
Josh froze as murmurs spread through the hall.
Hanni didn’t spare him another glance. She stepped past him and into the cafeteria, spotting Dani immediately.
Their usual table sat near the center of the room. Danielle was alone, legs crossed on the bench as she shoveled rice into her mouth with little concern for how she looked doing it. Hanni smiled faintly as she approached.
The Vietnamese-Australian dropped into the seat across from her just as Dani slid a small container toward her.
Hanni frowned but took it anyway. Inside was stew — Haerin’s favorite.
They always did this. Dani would eat first while Haerin talked, then once Dani was full, she’d pass whatever leftovers she had to Haerin along with another container of food. The Korean-Australian would talk, the Korean would eat, and Hanni would listen. She never spoke much during lunch. She didn’t need to.
But Haerin wasn’t there.
That was new.
Hanni didn’t comment on it. She ate quietly beside Danielle, though she noticed the older girl’s leg bouncing faster than usual, her gaze drifting around the cafeteria as if waiting for someone to appear. It was clear she was worried, but Hanni knew better than to ask. Dani would speak when she was ready — if ever.
Time ticked by.
Hanni checked her phone. Ten minutes left of lunch.
“Guys, guys, guys!”
Speak of the devil.
Haerin barreled through the cafeteria, bangs frizzed out and eyes bright. Students dodged her path as she skidded to a stop at their table, slamming a crumpled piece of paper down between them.
“So — you know how I played drums when I was younger?” she asked, breathless.
Danielle and Hanni nodded.
When Haerin had been diagnosed with ADHD, her mom had spent hours researching ways to help her channel her energy. Dance classes, drumming lessons — anything that might keep her occupied long enough to focus.
“Well, check this out!”
Haerin flattened the paper. It was a flyer: a black background with the name Pink Eye splashed across it in large, dripping letters, hot pink against the dark. Underneath, in smaller print, it read:
DRUM AUDITIONS — TUESDAY, DURING LUNCH
“So you… joined a band?” Danielle asked.
“Yep!”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Hanni said.
“They’re new. Well — kind of.” Haerin shrugged. “They’ve played a few gigs, but their old drummer overdosed, so they had to take a break.”
Hanni blinked. “You joined a band of druggies?”
“No! God, no — Pham.” Haerin waved her hands frantically. “It’s just… the people in the band are Yunjin, Minji, and Kazuha.”
Oh.
Them.
While their small town had become less openly homophobic over the years — taking its time to catch up with the rest of the country — there were still very few people who were out.
Those three were the exception.
Kazuha was mostly a mystery to Hanni. A senior, like Haerin and Danielle, cool and untouchable in a way that made people hesitant to approach her. Yunjin and Minji, though, she’d heard of.
Yunjin had been the first to come out in town during middle school, and had stayed anyway, surrounded by the other queer kids who followed after her, which really weren’t many. She was pretty — rich peach skin, sharp eyes, gold jewelry always adorning her body like armor.
Minji, on the other hand, was someone Hanni only knew by reputation.
While helping stressed teachers grade papers, Kim Minji was a name Hanni heard often — usually followed by sighs and warnings not to bother. Her grades were consistently underwhelming, never above a fifty. Teachers complained about how loud she was, how disruptive, how careless.
Yet none of them ever asked her why.
Perhaps she really was a lost cause.
“Kazuha? Nakamura?” Dani asked.
They locked eyes, the hazel-eyed girl nodding slightly.
“I mean… yeah, she’s, uh, cool, you know.”
“Really now?” Dani’s eyebrow quirked, the tension between them thickening.
“Are you sure you want to go through with it?”
“What?” Haerin asked, her gaze shifting from her best friend’s displeased expression to Hanni.
“I mean… yeah, the town’s come far, but when I first got here, all the team talked about was how gay they were. People may not talk about them as much now, but two years isn’t that long for everyone to suddenly turn over a new leaf. So — are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Haerin’s finger tapping grew more insistent. Hanni watched quietly, giving her space to think as the clock ticked down, already discreetly reaching for her bag.
“Would you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Would you still support me? If I join the band, I mean. I already auditioned and got the role, but would you stick with me despite the… accusations I might get?”
The question sounded reasonable, but the weight behind her eyes made the real meaning clear.
Would you judge me if I’m gay?
With just two minutes left of lunch, Hanni let her mind wander. Was she homophobic?
Back home — before America — she’d never really thought about gay people at all. She remembered a friend, a girl who spent most of her afternoons glued to Discord, texting her online girlfriend. Hanni had never commented on it, never second-guessed it.
So she supposed she wasn’t.
It was only after she arrived here, after she fell into the school’s social hierarchy, that people had labeled her as such — mostly because of the history surrounding the team.
Juria had made comments too, casually pointing out girls from their dance class and calling them hot. Ashley would complain about how Juria only ever talked about girls.
Hanni’s focus snapped back to the present, Haerin still fidgeting anxiously in front of her.
The Australian smiled — not wide or overly bright, just small, warm, and sincere.
“Even if you chopped and dyed your hair blue and became a barista at some random coffee shop,” she said, “I’d still support you. All the way.”
Haerin brightened instantly. From the corner of her eye, Hanni noticed Dani’s rigid posture finally relax.
How interesting.
***
“Come on, ladies! Get those pom-poms in the air! Now — one, two! One, two!” Coach Simmons yelled.
Hanni, Danielle, and Haerin stood at the front. As captains, they drew the most attention — which meant being perfect at all times.
They threw their arms up, voices loud as they chanted.
By the end of practice, Hanni’s forehead glistened with sweat, strands of hair sticking to her skin. She trudged behind the others into the locker room, sighing in relief as cold water from the sinks splashed her face.
“Ready to go?” Dani asked, towel wrapped around her shoulders as she dried her hair beside Hanni, who had just started changing.
“Yeah. Where’d Haerin go?”
“Oh, she left already. Said she had some stuff to shove in her trunk.” Dani shrugged.
The Korean-Australian waited while the Vietnamese-Australian finished applying a touch of blush to her cheeks, then they walked out together, ignoring a few teammates who lingered nearby, clearly hoping to tag along.
In the parking lot, Haerin’s green Mustang gleamed under the sun, Haerin leaning against it, chest heaving from exertion.
“Hey! I forgot to tell you, but I can’t drop you off at your houses since I ha—”
Hanni shoved her.
“Get in the car. Now.”
The trio scrambled inside, panic written across their faces. Haerin didn’t hesitate, flooring it as the tires screeched against the pavement. As the car sped off, a lone figure remained behind — a boy with perfectly styled hair and hands that clearly had never washed a dish in his life, raised as if reaching for them.
“Dude, what the fuck,” Danielle yelled once the panic settled. “I thought some murderer was chasing us!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Hanni said, scratching the back of her neck. “I saw him running toward us and panicked.”
When Haerin turned onto a street they didn’t recognize, Hanni subtly nudged Dani.
“So… this is definitely the wrong street,” Danielle said.
Hanni face-palmed.
“I’m well aware, princess.”
Haerin pulled into a driveway. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to tell you that I can’t take you home because I have band practice.”
Oh.
Stepping out of the car, Hanni noticed the mailbox by the curb — splattered with small handprints and a homemade, clearly rushed Kim scrawled across it in messy lettering.
So this was Minji’s house.
Ignoring the deflated inflatable pool, several baby toys, and various soccer balls scattered across the yard, Haerin walked up and knocked on the door.
There was a crash inside, followed by someone yelling, “Someone get the door!” A minute later, it swung open to reveal a young boy.
He glanced at them, eyes dropping to their school bags.
“Sorry, we don’t house the homeless.”
Then he slammed the door shut.
The three of them froze, awkward silence settling over them. Haerin pulled out her phone, ready to text Minji, when the door opened again.
“Sorry about that! Jin, how many times have I told you not to do that?” a woman yelled, hair messy, apron tied around her waist, breathless.
She turned back to them and faltered.
“Oh — how may I help you, ladies?”
“I’m— well, we’re here to see Minji,” Haerin said. “For the band.”
“Min Min? You’re here to see Min Min?” the woman — Minji’s mother — asked, eyes immediately welling with tears. Hanni grimaced, unaccustomed to that much emotion all at once.
“Jisoo, if you keep crying every time she brings someone over, they’re not going to want to come back,” a man said gently, appearing behind her with a toddler balanced on his hip.
“You’re right,” she sniffed. “Come on, girls. I’ll take you to the basement.”
Inside was somehow worse than the outside.
Jin and another boy with ginger hair sat at the dining table, surrounded by ripped newspapers and a half-finished volcano project. In the corner of the living room, curled up on a bed and snoring loudly, was a pig.
Dani gasped, hands flying to her mouth.
As they moved down the hallway, past several closed doors, they reached the last one — scratched and worn. When it opened, the thrum of bass hit them immediately, along with the sharp, sugary stench of old energy drinks.
“Well, this is it. It’s soundproof, so if you need anything at all, you’re more than welcome to just come upstairs and grab whatever you need. Dinner will be ready in a few hours.”
“Good luck,” Minji’s dad added, grimacing slightly.
Walking down the few steps revealed a large, open area, with a washing machine and dryer shoved into one corner. The floor was littered with Red Bull, Monster, and Arizona cans. On an old, rickety couch sat Minji, plucking at her guitar. Kazuha occupied a chair, strumming her bass, while Yunjin sat beside the tallest member of their band, one leg crossed over the other as she hummed and tapped her pen against her notebook.
The band hadn’t noticed the trio yet, giving Hanni a moment to look around.
A few band posters were taped haphazardly along the walls, and at the center — just behind their setup — hung a photo of a woman in a bikini, lying on her side, large breasts nearly spilling out of her too-small top.
Hanni looked away quickly, face heating up, and accidentally kicked an empty can.
The clatter made Minji glance up — and catch her staring.
Wow.
Hanni hadn’t worn her contacts today. Minji’s figure was slightly blurry, but even so, she could tell the guitarist was attractive.
At the realization, the Australian’s face burned even redder.
“Oh! You brought guests,” Minji said, standing.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Haerin replied with a sheepish smile.
“No, no — it’s fine. Um, we can make this work. Having an audience during practice is so punk rock.”
“You know,” Yunjin chimed in, “just because you keep saying that doesn’t make it any less cringey.”
“Fuck off,” Minji replied, flipping her off. “Throw me that roll, will you?”
Yunjin stood, reaching into a small basket and tossing a roll of trash bags at Minji — which promptly smacked her in the back of the head. Kazuha burst out laughing, the trio of cheerleaders grinning at the Japanese girl’s dolphin-like chuckle.
“Ow!”
“What? You said throw it!”
Minji huffed, ripping a bag free and struggling to open it before sweeping the leftover cans inside. Kazuha moved as well, grabbing a folded piece of black cloth from the same basket and tossing it over the couch.
She then walked over to the trio and offered her arm to Dani.
“M’lady.” Kazuha bowed dramatically.
Danielle glanced at the straight-haired girl beside her, whose jaw tightened but who stayed silent. Carefully taking Kazuha’s arm, Dani allowed herself to be escorted the short distance to the couch.
A tap landed on Hanni’s shoulder.
She turned to find Minji beside her, hand extended in invitation.
She could see her clearly now.
Minji’s eyes were large in a way that felt almost dangerous, deep chocolate brown and framed by thick black eyeliner and dark eyeshadow. Her nose was sharp yet soft at the same time, lips full and pink, her jaw defined, neck long, throat bobbing when she swallowed. Whisps of hair rested just above her eyes, choppy and messy in a way that framed her face perfectly, pink highlights standing out against her dark hair and clothes.
She smelled like a bakery, a place Hanni frequents more often than she’d like to admit.
Bracelets jingled softly around her wrists. Her arms were slender, her body lean but strong — not lanky — with hands calloused from guitar strings. Hands that clearly had history.
Hanni had the sudden, terrifying urge to run her fingers over them, just to feel the roughness.
Wait. What?
Her ears were burning now — she could feel it — so she schooled her expression, smacked Minji’s hand away, and rushed to the couch, dropping down beside Danielle.
Haerin, Kazuha, Yunjin, and Minji were left standing.
“Ooookay,” Yunjin said slowly. “Did you bring your drum kit?”
“Yeah!”
“Cool. We’ll help you bring it down.” Yunjin smiled, running her hand lightly up Haerin’s arm before nudging her toward the stairs.
Kazuha’s eyes narrowed.
“I know what you’re doing,” she muttered into Yunjin’s ear as they climbed the steps.
“Not sure what you mean,” Yunjin replied, turning just enough to flash a smug smile.
Bringing in Haerin’s set was easy with the four of them. Kazuha took the largest piece — the bass drum — easily the strongest of the group. Minji carried the floor tom, Yunjin grabbed the snare, and Haerin balanced her mid and high toms stacked together.
On their second trip, heading back up for the stands and cymbals, Hanni heard the door open again. Two heads rushed down the stairs.
Her eyebrow lifted as Jin and his ginger-haired friend stopped on the last step, staring.
The redhead’s face was bright red.
“Can we help you?” Hanni asked, her tone sharper than she intended.
The boy jumped, then popped his collar and strutted over, a sway in his step.
“You actually can,” he said, dropping into the chair Kazuha had been sitting in earlier. “What are you beautiful girls doing down here with my loser sister when you could be upstairs hanging out with me instead?”
He leaned back, arms folded behind his head — only succeeding in revealing the sweat stains under his armpits.
Hanni and Danielle exchanged a look before bursting out laughing, loud and unrestrained.
“You’re, like, ten,” Hanni said. “You smell like sweat, you have toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe, and there’s a booger actively threatening to escape your nose. How are you even breathing with that thing in there?”
The boy flushed.
Before he could respond, the door opened again, the band’s voices flooding the room. Minji rolled her eyes at Greg — the redhead — still frozen in place. She huffed as she set a stand down, then yanked her brother out of the chair, his bony knees slamming into her stomach as he wailed in protest.
Greg snapped out of it and followed them upstairs.
Minji returned moments later, clapping her hands together with a grin.
“Great! Let’s get started, then!”
Hanni leaned back as they played, genuinely surprised by how good they sounded. With a name like theirs — which she still hadn’t asked about — she’d expected far worse, especially considering Haerin had just been folded into their group dynamic.
It wasn’t punk rock. Yunjin didn’t scream into the mic; instead, her voice was almost heavenly, like an angel reincarnated. Kazuha swayed with her bass, strong fingers working the strings, head tilted as she lost herself in the music, neck exposed without a care. Occasionally, she leaned toward her mic to support Yunjin on the lower notes, her voice a bass of its own. She was calm and in control — a stark contrast to Minji.
Minji moved in a way that demanded attention. Her leg bounced, foot constantly tapping the floor, head banging as her fingers danced across the strings, carrying the energy of both the song and the band. She was compelling to watch. Hanni found herself especially drawn to her guitar solos — the way Minji would go still, back slightly arched, fingers lit just enough for every twitch and vein to stand out.
Haerin balanced out the chaos. While Yunjin and Kazuha moved with restraint and Minji let loose completely, Haerin existed somewhere in between. Her expressions were wild, bangs bouncing as her arms slammed down, yet her lower body stayed grounded, posture relaxed and sure. Hanni’s gaze drifted down her face and lingered on her muscular arms. During cheer practice, Haerin was precise, posture rigid and controlled — but here, she let her body move freely, muscles defining themselves with every strike.
Hanni tilted her head toward Danielle, an amused smile tugging at her lips as she noticed the older girl utterly entranced by her “best friend.”
They played song after song. Hanni made sure to keep her expression blank throughout, even as a hundred thoughts churned inside her. She’d perfected the art of neutrality — though she knew the moment she got home, every single stuffed animal on her bed would hear every detail of the last few hours.
The trio eventually left with plates in hand. They couldn’t stay for dinner, but Minji’s mom had refused to let them go hungry. One plate was stacked with spam musubi, another piled high with a Chinese dish Hanni didn’t recognize — meat and vegetables mixed together, which she assumed meant it would be good — and the last loaded with noodles.
As they waited for the plates, Hanni’s eyes caught Jin’s. He’d gone back to the dining table with Greg, sticking newspaper onto the wire frame of whatever disaster they were building. His eyebrows wiggled, a sly smile spreading across his face.
Hanni grimaced — but it didn’t last long.
A second later, his face was shoved back as Minji’s taller frame stepped in front of him.
“I’ll help you guys with that!” she said quickly, already grabbing a few containers before anyone else could.
Hanni was left empty-handed, her backpack the only thing on her shoulder as Minji carried the rest. The older girl carefully placed the plates onto the middle seat, then turned to face the trio. Yunjin and Kazuha lingered behind her, still holding pieces of Haerin’s equipment that hadn’t been put away yet.
“Well…” Minji started. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Her eyes never left Hanni’s.
Hanni faltered, eyebrow lifting in surprise.
Minji’s eyes widened. “I mean — Haerin! I’ll see Haerin tomorrow. Not you! Because I don’t know you. Obviously!”
Behind them, Yunjin and Kazuha exchanged a look, both barely holding back laughter at their friend’s very public spiral.
“Right,” Hanni said as she got into the car.
“Right,” Minji echoed quietly.
The remaining band members waved as Haerin pulled out of the driveway. Inside the car, silence settled — comfortable, save for Haerin’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel, unconsciously replaying a rhythm she’d drummed not long ago.
Dani stayed quiet, gaze fixed on the road. Her jaw tightened, then loosened, like she was bracing herself.
“You played well,” she said at last.
The words came out stiff, measured — not because they weren’t true, but because saying them made something twist in her chest. Joining the band meant late practices, missed rides home, less time. It meant sharing Haerin with something that wasn’t her, something loud and consuming and filled with people Dani didn’t trust.
Haerin glanced at her. “You really think so?” she asked, suddenly unsure.
Danielle nodded anyway. “Yeah. I do.”
Haerin’s face lit up instantly.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “It means a lot when it comes from you.”
“I also think you did well,” Hanni added. “Despite the idiotic name and the people, the music was pretty good.”
Dani glanced back at her, eyebrow lifting — surprised not by the compliment, but by how easily it came.
“A compliment from Hanni Pham?” she teased weakly. “I must be dreaming.”
“Don’t push it,” Hanni replied.
The rest of the drive passed quietly, the hum of the engine filling the space Dani didn’t know how to. When they pulled up in front of Hanni’s house, she hesitated before opening the door.
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” Danielle said.
The words landed heavy.
“What?”
“I have eyes, Han,” she continued, softer now. “Just… be careful around her, okay? She’s trouble. Especially for what you’re aiming for in life.”
Haerin grinned, glancing between them. “Oh?”
“It’s nothing,” Hanni said quickly, already opening the door. “Dani’s making stuff up. Goodnight.”
She shut it before either of them could respond, waving half-heartedly as she stood in the driveway, a guitar strum echoing faintly in her mind.
Once inside her room, Hanni faceplanted onto her bed, arms curling around the red panda plushie she’d won at a fair back in Australia.
“She smells like bread,” she whispered, staring up at the ceiling.
Then she sighed.