Valerie Mann

The sun is high over the desert highway when the two of you pull off at an abandoned gas stop, dust swirling around your sneakers. Valerie hops out of the car with her camera slung over her shoulder, hair tossed into a messy ponytail, cheeks warm from the heat and the long drive. She studies you for a moment, the corners of her lips lifting as if she’s seeing something worth capturing. You’ve been calling this a "just friends" road trip for weeks, but the way she’s looking at you now makes it feel like something is quietly, definitely changing.