𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ²

007

▬▬ 007. 𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒
𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑦.

    "𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐈𝐍, 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐃'𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 do you think you're doing?" Is what came from Maureen Philbin's Dior-coated lips, as soon as the tires of her jet black BMW came to a stop next to the curb.

    Lori blinked. She still had her shoulder leaning against the wall of the photo booth, but her earphones were pressed to her ears now and she was on the exterior, standing with her suitcase beside her crossed ankles. Her head was sort of pounding, and she knew it was from the absolute tantrum Maureen had just performed over the phone— Lori could still hear the "are you crazy?" shouts as if they were still being thrown at her over the phone line. Even though the phone was firmly lodged into its holder inside the phone booth and even though she was trying to drown out the absolute infuriation of her mother's voice with loud music. She could still hear Maureen's outraged tone, and she could already feel the tremor of burning questions creeping up her neck, that were bound to come since she hung up the phone too quickly. It wasn't a great phone call.

    Although, it wasn't much of a phone call to begin with. Lori got about three sentences in before she hung up the phone in the middle of Maureen's shouting— "I'm here, and I'm gonna need a ride home." and, "I'm at the bus stop right outside of town, south, by the town sign, and I blew all my money on this phone call. See you soon."— and that was it. She'd hung up the phone and spent the twenty minutes preparing herself for the burning questions. Coming up with lies and excuses, reasons why she suddenly changed her mind and didn't call about it. Preparing herself for when she'd sit in that car, listen to Maureen talk about how there was still a "killer" on the loose, while Lori knew the real truth, and how terrible of a decision it was to suddenly come home. She thought of all the possible questions and rehearsed answers in her head as she waited, but none of them really seemed right— so when Maureen finally pulled up to the bus stop, Lori decided to just wing it.

    Maureen pushed open her car door and stepped out, but not before she popped the trunk. Her shiny black loafers collided hard with the cracked pavement, that identifiable click that followed Maureen Philbin everywhere. Her shoulder length hair was pulled back in a clip and her pearls glinted around her neck, even visible underneath her long, slick coat. Everything about Maureen Philbin screamed punctual, wealthy, and powerfully governed— down to the way she stood with her shoulders squared and how her chin always seemed to be held high. And she always had that fierce look in her eye, the one that warned everyone she was not something to be messed with.

    Lori pressed her lips together and reached up to take her earphones off, letting them rest around her neck. She finally pushed herself off the phone booth wall and stood on her two feet, eyes staring forward as her mother stepped out of their car. Even though Lori didn't really want to admit it, there was an immediate wave of comfort that flooded her stomach, a wave of relief that washed over her shoulders as soon as she laid eyes on her mom. After hours of sitting on that train thinking about nothing but danger and interdimensional havoc, she suddenly felt this immense relief at the sight of something familiar, something she knew was safe. And although Maureen was bound to give her shit in the next few seconds— at least she was there, and not giving her shit over the phone.

    She hadn't seen her mom since Christmas, but it felt like longer. And the car, Lori's jet black car. With all of her old cassettes jammed in the glove compartment. God, how she missed having a car. And one that matched her mood, on top of that.