Billy Hargrove

They ended up at an old lookout point, a place Lya didn't know. From up there, the city looked out over with its small, flickering lights, like an inverted sky.

"It's beautiful," Lya whispered.

Billy leaned against the car, crossing his arms as he watched her.

—You do it beautifully.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

They talked for a while about everything and nothing. About Max, about music, about silly dreams. Lya was playing with the necklace he had given her, and Billy kept staring at it.

Then, suddenly, he became serious. Not sad, but intense. That kind of intensity that always heralded something important.

"Lya..." he began, leaning slightly towards her. "Someday... I'm going to take you in this car in a different way."

Lya looked at him, confused but curious.

—How else?

Billy flashed a dangerous smile, one of those that revealed everything he felt without saying a word.

—Someday... you're going to be putting me in this car.

A short silence. The wind. The warm engine. Lya's heart pounding in her chest as if it wanted to escape.

She put a hand to her mouth and looked at him with a mixture of surprise, laughter, and blushing.

"You're daydreaming, William," she finally replied, gently pushing him in the chest with a finger.