e, warm and familiar, came through the speaker. "Describe your car, Mister World Traveler. Don't tell me you're still driving that beat-up sedan from college?" Jerry chuckled, pu

, dropping her bag onto the floor. She spotted Sophie immediately. Her roommate was tangled on the sofa with James, his shirt half unbuttoned, their mouths locked together in a fervent kiss. Sophie wasn't scheduled for classes until later that afternoon, a detail Eugina knew well, just as she knew Sophie's schedule often revolved around James whenever he was free. Eugina stood there for a moment, watching them. Sophie's eyes were closed, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, lost in the moment. "Hey, Gina," Sophie mumbled, pulling away briefly. James offered a grunt of acknowledgement without looking up. "Hey, Soph," Eugina replied softly, managing a faint smile. Sophie turned back to James, their lips meeting again with renewed intensity. Eugina watched them, her gaze lingering on Sophie's flushed face. Oh, Sophie, she thought, a silent lament echoing in the quiet space between her ears. You really still believe in all that, don't you? It was a cruel, beautiful lie. She knew the script by heart. The intense connection, the promises whispered in the heat of the moment, the slow fade, the inevitable heartbreak. James wasn't different from any of the others. He was just another boy, another animal who would use and dump. It was the way of things. It was inevitable. She turned away from the sight, heading towards her room, leaving them to their fleeting, fragile illusion. Jerry and Ruby's journey through the city streets was a comfortable rhythm of shared laughter, overlapping stories, and the simple pleasure of each other's company. They talked about everything and nothing – college misadventures, awkward jobs, family updates, dreams for the future. Jerry recounted funny anecdotes from his time abroad, and Ruby shared the latest gossip from their hometown circle. As they drove, Jerry occasionally glanced over at her, catching her mid-laugh or deep in thought, noticing the subtle ways she had changed and the fundamental ways she was still the same R