One stormy Friday, Molly's car broke down outside school. Everyone else had already left, including Adam, who didn't answer her texts.
She stood in the rain, hair sticking to her cheeks, heels soaked, shivering.
That's when Jessica pulled up in her beat-up corolla, blasting punk rock. She slowed, rolled down the window.
"You look like a wet cat."
"Charming as ever," Molly grumbled.
Jessica leaned over and unlocked the door. "Get in, Hastings. Before you catch a disease."
Molly hesitated…then got in.
The inside of the cat smelled like cinnamon, gum and bookstore dust. A black Keys song hummed from the speakers.
"Why you being so nice?" Molly asked, hugging her arms.
"I'm not," Jessica said. "I'm preventing you from becoming a viral 'rich girl dies dramatically in storm' headline."
Molly glanced over. "You ever just…hate being who you are?"
Jessica blinked. "That came out of nowhere."
"I don't know. Everything I do is expected. My friends expect me to be a bitch. My boyfriend expects me to act perfect. My mom expects Ivy Leagues." She stared out the window. "No one expects me to want anything different."
Jessica drove in silence for a moment, then said, "Screw what they expect."
Molly looked at her. Really looked.
"You don't care what anyone thinks of you," she whispered.
Jessica smiled softly. "That's not true. I care what you think."
They both froze.
The silence was electric.
Outside, the rain hit harder. Inside, everything shifted.