Time slipped by faster after lunch, like the school day had decided it was done pretending to care.
The final bell rang, sharp and loud, and the classroom immediately dissolved into noise. Chairs scraped back. Bags were slung over shoulders. Sam stretched beside Emily, groaning like she'd just survived something traumatic.
"That's it," Sam said. "I'm officially dead."
Emily smiled, tired but lighter than she'd felt that morning.
Michael stood, already halfway ready to leave. "I'm heading out," he said, glancing at Sam. "Stuff at home."
"Yeah, yeah," Sam waved him off. "Don't be late tomorrow."
Michael nodded, then looked at Emily. "See you."
It was small. Barely anything. Still, Emily felt her face warm and hated that she did. She waved back. "Bye."
He left, disappearing into the crowd.
Sam watched him go, then turned to Emily. "Well. Guess it's just us now. You survive day one?"
Emily let out a soft laugh. "I think so. It could've been worse."
"That's the Silvergrove spirit," Sam said. "Low expectations."
They walked together through the halls, students pouring out around them. At the main entrance, a group of girls called Sam's name. She paused, turning back to Emily.
"I'll catch up, yeah?"
Emily nodded quickly. "It's fine."
And it was. Mostly.
Emily stepped outside alone, the afternoon air cooler than she expected. She scanned the area, nerves creeping back in. The bus stop was farther than she thought, but eventually she spotted the Silvergrove bus parked near the gate.
She climbed on, keeping her head down. There weren't many students inside. Just scattered bodies, quiet conversations. Emily headed for the back, until—
"Hey."
She looked up.
Sam waved at her from a seat halfway down, grinning. "No way. The universe is obsessed with us."
Emily's shoulders relaxed instantly. She walked over and sat beside her. "I'm glad it's you."
Sam smirked. "Obviously. Did Christmas come early or what?"
Emily laughed, soft and real.
The bus started moving.
They talked about nothing important. Teachers. Homework. Emily listened more than she spoke, but she didn't feel invisible. That was new.
Then Sam leaned back, glancing at her. "So. Study session. You coming?"
Emily hesitated. The word maybe sat heavy in her chest. "I don't know. I'll see."
Sam made a sound of fake agony. "That's not an answer."
Before Emily could react, Sam gently took her phone. "Relax. I'm not robbing you."
She typed quickly, saved her number, and handed it back. "There. I'll text you the library address. No pressure. Just… come if you want."
Emily looked at the screen. Sam's name was already there.
"I'd like to," Emily said quietly.
Sam smiled, softer this time. "Good."
The bus slowed.
"That's my stop," Sam said, standing. She slung her bag over her shoulder, then looked down at Emily. "Text you."
"Okay," Emily said.
Sam stepped off, turning once to wave before disappearing down the street.
Emily leaned back against the seat as the bus pulled away, phone warm in her hand, heart doing something unfamiliar.
The bus ride home felt longer than it should have.
Emily stared out the window, phone resting in her palm, Sam's contact still open like proof the day had actually happened. Silvergrove blurred past her, buildings giving way to quieter streets. Her mind kept looping back anyway. Fiona's look. Terra's warning. The way Michael hadn't defended fiona. The way he hadn't cared.
And Sam. Loud, sarcastic, solid.
Somehow easing the weight without even trying.
When Emily finally stepped off the bus, the sky was already softening into evening.
Home was quiet when she unlocked the door. She dropped her bag onto the couch, the sound heavy in the still room.
"Emily?" her aunt called from the kitchen. "You're back."
Emily walked in to find her aunt stirring something on the stove, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy. She turned with a smile that carried more concern than curiosity.
"So?" her aunt asked. "How was your first day?"
Emily hesitated, then shrugged lightly. "It was… okay."
"Just okay?" her aunt raised an eyebrow. "You make any friends?"
Emily nodded. "Yeah. One. Her name's Sam."
"That's good," her aunt said immediately, relief obvious. "I was worried you'd spend the whole day alone."
Emily smiled faintly. She didn't mention Fiona. Or Terra. Or the way being stared at still made her chest tighten. She talked about classes instead. Literature. The teacher being weird. The food being bad.
Her phone buzzed.
Emily glanced down.
Unknown Number:
Library's on Westbrook Street. Old brick building. You coming?
Her heart skipped.
Her aunt noticed. "That Sam?"
Emily nodded. "Yeah. They do study sessions after school sometimes."
Her aunt studied her for a second, then smiled. "That sounds nice. You should go."
Emily blinked. "Really?"
"Yes," her aunt said gently. "You don't have to hide here just because the world feels loud again."
Emily swallowed, then nodded. "I'll be back before dark."
She changed quickly. Baggy hoodie. Loose jeans. Hair pulled into a messy bun like always. She grabbed her bag, hesitated at the door, then typed back.
Yeah. I'm coming.
The reply came almost instantly.
Good. I'm waiting.
Emily took a breath and stepped out.
The evening air felt different. Less heavy.
Like something was shifting, slowly, without asking permission.
And for once, she didn't turn back.
---
Emily walked for another block, her bag swinging lightly against her hip. The library came into view, tucked between a small café and a closed bookstore. Its old brick walls were softened with ivy climbing one side, and the tall windows glowed with warm yellow light, spilling a calm invitation onto the sidewalk.
Westbrook Library a name felt too plain— looked cozy and surprisingly safe. She paused at the steps, taking a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
That's when she saw Sam. Leaning against the front steps, jacket half-zipped, hair falling perfectly across her face, she had a phone in one hand and a coffee in the other. Her eyes lit up the moment she noticed Emily approaching.
"Knew you wouldn't ghost me," Sam said, pushing herself upright.
Emily gave a small, shy smile. "Of course I wouldn't."
"Good," Sam replied, grinning. "Because that would've hurt my feelings, and then I'd have to glare at you all day while pretending not to care."
Emily chuckled softly, feeling some of the tension melt.
Sam tilted her head, squinting slightly.
"You look like you're about to bolt. Nervous?"
Emily hesitated, then nodded. "A little. First day at a new school… and now this. I just… don't want to mess anything up."
Sam laughed, the sound low and teasing. "Mess anything up? Emily, you survived Silvergrove already. I think that's enough proof that you're tougher than you look."
Emily felt a small flush creep up her cheeks but laughed anyway. "Thanks, I guess."
Sam's grin softened. "Don't thank me yet. That's just step one. Step two: join the study session."
Emily hesitated, chewing her lip. "I… I think so. I mean, I'm not sure. I don't want to be in the way or–"
Sam rolled her eyes.
"Relax. You just show up and sit. Or talk. Or stare at books like a normal human. Or have a coffee. Your choice.
Emily blinked, the nervous flutter in her chest. "Alright… I'll come."
"Good," Sam said, looping her arm lightly through Emily's as she tugged her toward the door. "Now, let's get you inside before you rethink your life choices and run back home."
As they stepped inside, the library wrapped around them like a quiet bubble.
Rows of bookshelves towered over the tables, the soft murmur of other students studying filled the space. Sunlight fading through the high windows cast warm, golden beams across the wooden floors.
Sam released Emily's arm but stayed close, whispering as they walked toward the table where a small group had already gathered. "See? Nothing scary. Books are friends, not enemies. And we're all harmless. Mostly."
Emily's chest lifted slightly. For the first time since Silvergrove, she felt… welcome. Safe. And maybe, just maybe, a little excited.
"Here's the gang," Sam said, gesturing to the table.
"And now, officially, you're one of us."
Emily swallowed, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks… I—this is… really nice."
"Yeah, yeah," Sam said, waving a hand.
"Now sit, let's see if you survive our terrible study habits."
Michael looked up first.
Emily felt it before she processed it. The way her chest tightened. The way her fingers curled slightly around her bag strap
.
He wasn't doing anything special. Just sitting there, sleeves rolled up, notebook open, pen resting between his fingers. But when his eyes met hers, something shifted. Subtle. Unavoidable.
Sam nudged Emily gently. "Sit next to me."
Emily nodded and carefully slid into the chair beside her, setting her bag down like it might betray her by making too much noise.
"Guys," Sam said, clapping her hands once softly. "This is Emily."
Then she turned to Emily. "That's Cameron," she said, pointing across the table, "and next to him is Liliana."
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "Same grade. Different section. And yes they are dating, and yes they hate Fiona and Terra just as much as we do."
Liliana laughed immediately. "Hate is a strong word."
Cameron snorted. "No it's not."
Liliana smiled at Emily, warm and curious. "Welcome. I've been wanting to meet you ever since Sam wouldn't shut up about you."
Sam scoffed. "That's a lie."
"It's not," Cameron said. "She said and I quote 'the new girl seems normal and I like her.'"
Emily blinked. "Normal?"
"Highest compliment at Silvergrove," Liliana said. "Trust us."
Emily laughed quietly, tension easing just a bit.
Michael hadn't said anything yet. He was writing again, head tilted down, lashes low.
Then he looked up.
"Hey," he said, voice calm, not awkward, not forced. Just… there. "Emily,?"
Emily straightened slightly. "Yeah."
He hesitated for half a second. Just enough for Liliana to notice.
"Do you want the notes from earlier?" he asked, sliding his notebook a little closer to her. "You missed a bit."
Sam was busy flipping pages, completely clueless.
Emily hesitated. "I- I took some already."
Michael held out his hand anyway. "Can I see?"
She passed him her notebook, fingers brushing his for a split second. She felt it all the way up her arm.
Michael scanned the page, eyebrows lifting slightly. "These are neat."
Emily's face warmed. "They are?"
"Yeah," he said simply. "You organize things well. Makes it easier to actually study."
Liliana watched the exchange quietly, a slow smile tugging at her lips.
Michael handed the notebook back. "You can keep doing it your way. If you want the rest, I've got them."
Emily nodded, heart doing something annoying and fast. "Thanks."
Sam finally looked up. "Alright, can we pretend this is a study session before I fail everything?"
Cameron groaned. "Fine."
They settled into studying, pages turning, pens scratching, the occasional whispered comment breaking the silence. Emily found herself relaxing, leaning closer to the table, feeling less like she was trespassing.
Every now and then, Michael would point something out. Quietly. Not hovering. Just helpful.
And every time he spoke to her, Emily felt that same small, stupid flutter.
Liliana noticed all of it.
The glances. The pauses. The way Emily's shoulders tensed whenever Michael leaned closer.
Interesting, she thought.
Very interesting.
And for the first time since stepping into Silvergrove High, Emily didn't feel completely alone.