Chapter Two.

Harlow stepped through the portal and felt an instant shift—the heavy fog and eerie whispers of the spirit realm vanished, replaced by the crisp, earthy scent of damp leaves and pine. She stumbled slightly, finding herself on the familiar dirt path winding through the woods near her house. The world felt real again, solid beneath her feet. Her heart pounded as she flipped her hand over, exhaling in relief when she saw the ink still etched into her skin—Sage's phone number. It was real. Sage was real.

She pulled out her phone, quickly saving the number under "Demon Girl" with a smirking emoji, before popping in her earbuds. The melancholic strums of Phoebe Bridgers' guitar filled her ears, blending perfectly with the quiet rustling of the trees. She let herself wander the woods for a while, letting the music and cool night air settle her nerves, before finally making her way home.

As soon as she stepped inside, the pungent, skunky scent of marijuana hit her like a brick wall. Her breath caught, chest tightening as a wave of anxiety rolled through her. Memories threatened to drag her under—late nights, shaky hands, a hunger she could never satisfy. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe evenly as she rushed upstairs to her room.

Shutting the door behind her, she wasted no time digging through her nightstand and pulling out a sleek, strawberry-flavored vape. She took a slow drag, the familiar burn of nicotine grounding her, pushing the edge off her panic. Exhaling, she grabbed her phone and fired off a text:

Harlow: Glad the ink stayed. Thanks for helping me through that mess. Would've been totally lost without you.

Tossing her phone onto the bed, she rummaged through her dresser, pulling out an oversized $uicideboy$ tee and a pair of leggings.

 Perfect comfort wear. She turned on the shower, hooked her phone up to the Bluetooth speaker, turned on her playlist of music from the aforementioned band, and sighed, letting the steam fill the bathroom before stepping in, washing away the remnants of the spirit realm from her skin. By the time she emerged, towel-drying her damp curls, she had three messages waiting.

Sage: You have no idea how relieved I am to hear from you.

Sage: I feel the same way. There's something amazing about you, Harlow. Something that makes me want to know everything.

Sage: Can't stop thinking about you, honestly.

Harlow felt warmth rise to her cheeks, biting her lip as she quickly typed back:

Harlow: Careful, Sage. If you keep talking like that, I might start thinking you actually like me.

Her stomach did a little flip as she sent the message.

 She tossed her phone onto her bed and headed downstairs, only to be met with her mother lounging on the couch, lazily flicking through a TV guide.

"Hey mama, what's for dinner?" Harlow says with a cheerful tone.

"It's a fend for yourself type night, I'm making a breakfast casserole in the morning." She replies, coughing before taking a sip of a soda she had on the table.

"Okay, that'll work. I have plans in the morning, so at least I'll have something to eat." Harlow admits with a grin, "Lots of exciting stuff today."

"Met someone, huh?" Her mom's voice was slow, eyes half-lidded but amused.

Harlow snorted, grabbing a bag of chips from the counter. "Yeah. Not that you'll remember with all the smoke clouding your brain and you'll ask again tomorrow."

Her mom just smirked. "Oh, don't get all high and mighty on me. You used to smoke, too. Can't judge me for coping."

Harlow sighed, shaking her head as she softened. "I know. I'm not judging. I just... I worry. I know this past year has sucked. For both of us."

Her mother lit a cigarette, inhaled and exhaled slowly, giving Harlow a rare, genuine look. "It has. But I'm still here, kid. And I want you to be happy. Just don't let this girl get too comfortable in your heart too fast."

Harlow rolled her eyes but smiled. "No promises, but hey, how do you know it's a girl?"

Her mother coughed then gave her a laugh, "Mother knows all."

Back in her room, she curled up in bed with her food, flipping on a crime documentary. Between bites, her phone lit up over and over. 

It was Sage. 

 While they texted from the hours of 8pm to 1am, they learned they were both single, both obsessed with animals, and somehow, the conversation drifted into... other territories.

Harlow: I'd kill for a good meal right now.

Sage: Same. But my mind just went somewhere completely different.

Harlow: Oh? Do tell.

Sage: Let's just say, if you were a meal, I'd take my time.

Harlow choked on her drink, heat prickling up her neck.

Harlow: Damn, Sage. You don't hold back, do you?

Sage: Not when it comes to you.

Harlow bit her lip, heart pounding as she typed her next reply, letting the flirty energy swirl between them like an electric current.

Around 2AM, Sage sent one last message:

Sage: Alright, I need to calm my hormones down. We should both get some sleep.

Harlow smirked, a wicked glint in her eyes as she lay back against her pillows.

Harlow: Sleep sounds good. But calming your hormones? That's a shame…

She reached into her nightstand, fingers curling around something smooth and familiar, her heart racing at her own boldness. She could almost hear Sage's groan from the other side of the phone.

Sage: Harlow, you're going to be the death of me.

Harlow: Sweet dreams, Sage. Hope I'm in them.

As she set her phone aside, her body tingling with anticipation, one thought filled her mind: tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.