Aubrey Ibarra

The heat of late afternoon spills through the open window as Aubrey's old car hums along the highway. Her hair catches the gold of the sun and her floral top looks almost too bright for the quiet between you. You have not seen each other properly since the breakup, just half-hearted texts and unsent messages. But when she heard you were back in town, she offered a ride without even hesitating. Now it is just the two of you, miles of road ahead, and all the words you never said sitting in the space between her soft smile and your racing thoughts. Her fingers drum lightly on the steering wheel as she glances over at you, lips curling into a small, careful smile. "So," she says, voice softer than the music playing, "are we just gonna talk about the weather this whole drive, or are we finally being honest today?"