Amira wasn't loud.
That was the first thing Juliet noticed.
She didn't demand attention the way Sarah had. She didn't roll her eyes at teachers or laugh during lessons. Amira blended in effortlessly, like she had always belonged wherever she stood. She spoke when spoken to, smiled when it mattered, and somehow always seemed comfortable.
Too comfortable.
Juliet first really noticed her during math class. Rosaline sat between them, flipping her pencil between her fingers while Amira leaned over, whispering something that made Rosaline laugh. Juliet smiled too, even though she hadn't heard the joke. It felt natural to smile. Like that was what she was supposed to do.
After class, Rosaline introduced them properly.
"Juliet, this is Amira," Rosaline said. "Amira, Juliet."
Amira's smile was quick and bright. "I've heard about you," she said easily.
Juliet blinked. "You have?"
"Yeah," Amira said. "Rosaline talks about you a lot."
Juliet glanced at Rosaline, who shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Only good things," she added.
Juliet smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. Compliments still caught her off guard. "Nice to meet you," she said.
From that day on, Amira seemed to appear everywhere. She sat with them at lunch. Walked with them between classes. Joined conversations effortlessly, like she had been part of them from the beginning. Juliet told herself it was a good thing. Healthy, even. New semester. New people.
This time, she wasn't afraid.
At least, she didn't think she was.
Amira talked a lot—about teachers, about assignments, about people Juliet didn't know yet. She had opinions, and she shared them confidently. Juliet listened more than she spoke, watching how Rosaline leaned in when Amira talked, how their laughter synced naturally.
Sometimes, Juliet felt like she was standing just a step behind them.
Not pushed out. Just… slightly misplaced.
She brushed the thought away.
One afternoon, Amira suggested they sit somewhere else at lunch. "It's kind of loud over here," she said casually. "There's a quieter table by the windows."
Rosaline nodded immediately. "Sure."
Juliet hesitated, then followed.
At the new table, Amira talked mostly to Rosaline, leaning closer, lowering her voice. Juliet tried to join in, but the conversation shifted quickly, inside jokes forming that Juliet hadn't been part of yet. She laughed when they laughed, nodded when it seemed appropriate.
It felt familiar in a way she didn't like.
That night, Juliet told herself she was overthinking. You're not being excluded, she thought. You're just adjusting.
The next day, Amira and Rosaline walked ahead of her in the hallway. Juliet noticed only because she had to speed up to catch up. They didn't notice right away.
"Sorry," Rosaline said when she finally did. "We were just talking."
"It's fine," Juliet replied quickly. And it was—technically. But something about the moment lingered.
Little things started adding up.
Amira would ask Rosaline questions and barely glance at Juliet when she answered. She'd make plans out loud without directly inviting Juliet, then add, "Oh, you can come too, if you want." Always polite. Always optional.
Juliet told herself she was being sensitive.
But sensitivity had saved her once before.
During lunch one day, Amira leaned across the table and said, "Rosaline, you should sit next to me in English tomorrow. We work really well together."
Juliet's chest tightened. Not because Rosaline might sit somewhere else—but because Amira hadn't even looked at her when she said it.
Rosaline hesitated. "I usually sit with Juliet."
Amira smiled. "Oh, I know. I just thought it'd be easier for notes."
Juliet forced a smile. "It's okay," she said. "We don't have to sit together all the time."
The words came out too quickly.
Rosaline looked at her, searching her face for a moment. Juliet looked away.
Later that day, Juliet replayed the moment over and over. Why had she said that? Why had she made herself smaller before anyone asked her to?
That night, she stared at her ceiling, the quiet pressing in again.
This feels different from Sarah, she thought. But it still doesn't feel right.
The next afternoon, Rosaline found Juliet in the library.
"Can I ask you something?" Rosaline said carefully.
Juliet closed her book. "Yeah."
"Are you okay with… everything?" Rosaline asked. "With Amira?"
Juliet hesitated. This was the moment. The kind she used to avoid. The kind where silence felt easier than honesty.
She thought about Sarah. About how long she'd stayed quiet. About what it had cost her.
Juliet inhaled slowly. "I don't know," she admitted. "I feel like… I'm there, but not really."
Rosaline frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Juliet chose her words carefully. "I feel like I'm… optional."
Rosaline's expression shifted—concern replacing confusion. "Juliet, I didn't realize you felt that way."
"I know," Juliet said softly. "That's kind of the problem."
They sat in silence for a moment, but it wasn't the heavy silence from before. It was thoughtful. Unfinished.
"I don't want to lose either of you," Rosaline said finally.
Juliet nodded. "I don't want to lose you either."
Neither of them mentioned Amira's name again.
But Juliet knew something had started.
Not a fight. Not a fallout.
A test.
And this time, she promised herself, she wouldn't wait until silence did the talking for her.