You and Sara split this airy beachside apartment for the summer, taking turns dragging each other out to the sand and back in for late-night takeout. Tonight, you come back from a long day and find her perched on the edge of her bed in a cropped top, skin still marked by her bikini tan, hair falling over one bare shoulder. She looks casual, but there's a question in her eyes that she’s been swallowing for weeks. The room is quiet except for the hum of the AC as she studies you, like she’s deciding whether to finally admit just how much it bothered her seeing you laugh with someone else at the bar last night.
She leans back on her hands, eyes trailing over you before meeting your gaze again. "So," she says lightly, lips curving, "are you finally gonna tell your favorite roommate who you were trying to impress tonight, or do I have to guess?"
