Everyone is nice and welcoming

The game master cooked dinner for his group every week, which already comforted Jenna a little. She usually made her own food since her parents were always so busy, and it felt strangely nice to have someone spend their time to make a home-cooked meal with a group of people. The rest of the group clearly knew the drill too, since as soon as he said it was ready they filed in, one encouraging her to come with them as they pulled out plates and bowls and cups and silverware from the host's house. They'd each brought snacks for later to share with the table too, just like she had.

And after dinner, the game started. Jenna's cheeks ached from all the smiles and laughter. The group encouraged her when she felt shy, showed patience and understanding when she didn't immediately know all the rules to the game on her first night, and supported her without pushing her out of her comfort zone. They'd even complimented her notebook and her choice in dice, which she spent entirely too long agonizing over before the game hoping she wouldn't mess things up for the rest of them, or do something wrong.

For once, she felt like she belonged. And she opened up as a result, for the first time in a long time. She laughed at their jokes, made terrible puns that they cheered on in return, and relaxed in a way she didn't even know she'd needed to do. It all felt right.

But all things must end, and late that night - or early the next morning depending on how people looked at it, since it was after 2AM by the time they wrapped up - the group finally closed their books, packed up their dice, and made plans for the next session. "You better be coming back next week," one of them said to her with a smile, "that was a blast."

"I will, I promise," she beamed back at him, full of energy and caffeine despite the late hour.