Becoming social

The living room stretches around you—vaulted ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the manicured grounds, furniture that probably costs more than a year's rent on any apartment you could afford. It's beautiful. It's silent. HAVEN's climate control hums its perpetual lullaby, and somewhere a cleaning drone is probably vacuuming a room you haven't entered.

You set The Language of Cloth face-down on your knee and stare at the ceiling.

When did this happen? When did being alone stop being comfortable?

You've always been fine by yourself. College was years of solo study sessions, library corners, the quiet satisfaction of your own company. But that was before. Before you had people to miss. Before Priya's sharp laugh echoed in your memory, before Margot's dry observations made you grin, before Theron's hands on that bicycle made your stomach do something complicated.

The house feels like a display case. You, the only exhibit.

You pick up your phone and type back to Priya:

that sounds amazing!! but honestly is there anything sooner? i'm gonna start climbing the walls if i spend too many more days in this big house with nothing to do

You hit send and watch the three dots appear almost immediately. Priya types fast—she's probably been holding her phone since she sent the first message.

omg SAME. janelle's been begging me to come over and help her reorganize her closet (nightmare situation, like three garbage bags of donations) but i've been putting it off. you could come help?? we'll order pizza. janelle's mom makes the best iced tea.

Another message follows before you can respond:

orrr wren's doing a photoshoot for her blog tomorrow afternoon at the park. she needs models. you'd be perfect, you have that whole effortless-chic thing going on

A third:

or we could just hang at the coffee place on main st tonight if you're free?? janelle gets off her shift at 6

Three options. Three invitations. Three people who want you around.

Three people who want you around.

The thought lands softly, like a hand on your shoulder. You sit with it for a moment, letting the warmth of it spread through your chest. Six days ago you were a stranger in this town. Now you have a job, a social calendar, and teenagers texting you about closets and photoshoots.

Your phone buzzes again.

also wren says hi and that the lace blouse you picked for her got sixteen likes in two hours which is basically viral for her

You laugh out loud—a real laugh, surprised and delighted—and catch yourself smiling at the screen like an idiot. The living room still stretches empty around you, but it doesn't feel quite so vast anymore.