Lucy wasn’t sure when it had started.

  Maybe it had been gradual—small moments piling up, ten little things becoming one big thing. The feeling of being on the outside again. The fear of not belonging. The quiet, creeping dread of being left behind.

  Maybe even a hint of jealousy.

  She had kept it all inside, swallowing it down like medicine she wasn’t allowed to spit out. But today? Today, it was getting harder to bear.

  Emily and Lily had been the center of attention since the accident and Emily’s recovery. Teachers still smiled a little extra kindly at Lily. Cssmates whispered about how brave Emily had been. Staff members muttered about how lucky they were—to have survived, to have each other.

  Emily never asked for attention—if anything, she shut down conversations about it, shifting topics whenever someone brought it up.

  Yet - it bit at Lucy somewhere.

  And then there was the way Emily and Lily had changed.

  They ughed together more easily now, shared inside jokes Lucy wasn’t always part of. Emily had even given Lily a new nickname—"Lilypad." Lily, in turn, had grown more confident, still quiet but more willing to put herself out there. More pyful. More daring.

  And Emily - sometimes her best friend felt like a different person. Sometimes, Lucy would catch a look in her eyes—something distant, something unreadable. Like her friend was there, but also someone else.

  Lucy pushed the thought away, shaking her head, dismissing it as an idiosyncrasy.

  However - the bottom line? She didn’t know where she fit in anymore.

  —

  One afternoon at school, Lucy walked a step behind Emily and Lily in the hallway, listening to them giggle about something she wasn’t part of.

  Her stomach twisted.

  She thought back to California.

  Her cousins, her aunts, uncles, her friends—her family. The warmth, the ocean, the bustle of the city. The people and life she’d been forced to leave behind.

  She understood why her family had to relocate—she knew the financial stress her parents had been under, knew they had to move for their family to survive.

  However, understanding and appreciating it didn’t make it hurt less.

  If anything, it made her loss more tangible. It made the sting worse.

  It didn’t change the fact that starting over in a new school, in a new town, in a new world had been hard. It didn’t change the fact that part of the reason she was so boisterous, so loud, so mischievous… was because she felt invisible.

  Because she felt alone.

  Because she felt like an outcast.

  And she hated it with every fiber of her being.

  Then she had found Emily. Another lost soul—the new kid turned best friend. Through Emily, she had met Lily.

  Together, they had established a sisterhood.

  A trio of outcasts.

  And yet, now?

  Lucy felt on the outside.

  She hated this feeling.

  She was the fun one. The prankster. The mischievous one. The one who made people ugh.

  But if Lily was confident now—if she was the one making jokes, taking risks—then who was Lucy supposed to be?

  She stole another gnce at Emily and Lily, feeling her heart skip a beat.

  What if somehow, she lost them too?

  What if they didn’t need her anymore?

  What if she was just the extra?

  A sharp ache settled in her chest as the fears tore through her like a sharp wind.

  She felt scared. Angry. Alone. All at once.

  And the worst part?

  She knew they weren’t ignoring her.

  She knew they weren’t trying to make her feel this way - and somehow, that only made it a hundred times worse.

  —

  Lucy hadn’t meant to snap.

  Maybe it had been building for weeks. Maybe even longer.

  As the three of them walked down the hallway, Lucy a step or two behind, she saw Lily nudge Emily pyfully and whisper something that Lucy couldn’t quite hear. Subsequently, both girls broke into a series of muffled giggles as their eyes nearly watered with suppressed ughter.

  Lucy frowned as she saw the camaraderie, the frown turned into a scowl and suddenly - something in her just snapped. She didn’t even think before she blurted out, “Oh, sorry, am I not good enough to join your super-duper exclusive club?”

  The words came out sharper than she intended.

  Emily and Lily whirled around, eyes wide, mouths slightly open. Stunned.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  “Huh?” Lily finally squeaked.

  “Uh—” Emily echoed, looking just as lost.

  Somehow, their confusion made it more frustrating.

  The weeks—maybe months—of feeling like the unwanted stepchild, the outsider. The memories of California, the fear of losing her friends, the shame of maybe being overly sensitive—it all pushed her over the edge.

  “You two just look so happy over there,” she said, her voice quieter now, but just as blunt, her arms crossed and eyes on the floor as she felt herself tremble.

  She could feel her heart pounding, fast and uneven.

  The hallway felt too quiet and too loud at the same time.

  “Guess I didn’t get the memo.”

  Lily frowned. “Lucy, what are you talking about?”

  Lucy looked up, meeting her eyes—really meeting them.

  And then the dam really burst.

  It wasn’t just one thing.

  It was every moment she had been left standing at the edge of the conversation, feeling like an afterthought. It was the times Emily and Lily had exchanged gnces over some inside joke that Lucy wasn’t part of. It was the times she had felt like a ghost in her own friend group.

  She could hear her own voice rising, but she couldn’t stop.

  “Oh, nothing,” she snapped. “Just that some people get to be heroes, and some people get to be the ones who almost die, and then some people just—I dunno, stay alone. Got nothing special about them. Just filler. Background noise.”

  She let out a dry, humorless ugh.

  “For weeks, it’s been Emily this, Lily that. Do you ever stop and think that maybe—just maybe—Lucy would like to be part of the club, too?”

  She paused to catch her breath, and then the words kept pouring out.

  “I mean, I left California for this pce and thought, hey, maybe people will be nice. They weren’t. Then I met you guys, and I thought, maybe—just maybe—someone actually likes me. I finally had friends. Best friends. But no.”

  She took another sharp breath, suddenly pulling specific moments from her memory, hurling them into the open.The time they pnned a sleepover and she was the st to know, the time Lily had forgotten to save her a seat in css, waving apologetically from across the room, the time Emily and Lily had worked on a project together, and Lucy had sat alone, pretending not to care.

  It all felt so stupid when she said it out loud, but it wasn’t stupid to her.

  Emily and Lily just stared.

  Lily’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide.

  Emily’s lips pressed together, her eyes narrowing—not in anger, but in something else.

  For a second, just a split second, Lucy had the strangest feeling that she wasn’t looking at just Emily anymore.

  That only made everything worse.

  Then, suddenly, she realized the hallway had gone quiet. Not silent, but too many ears were listening. Murmurs. Whispers. A few curious gnces from passing students.

  Lucy felt her face flush.

  Her hands trembled.

  Her stomach churned as fear crawled up her spine.

  “Oh God—what have I done?” she thought as her breath caught. She needed to get out of there - now. Instead, what came out was a blunt statement. ““You know what? Forget it” as she turned on her heel and bolted.

  “Lucy! Wait!”

  Lily’s voice barely reached her.

  Emily called after her too, but it only made Lucy run harder.

  Her thoughts were a whirlwind. Her chest felt tight.

  She ran and ran—until she found an empty cssroom.

  The lights were mostly off. Desks stood abandoned. It was quiet.

  She hurried to the back of the room, sliding down against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest.

  And that’s when the cold hit her.

  The floor was freezing, the kind of unforgiving school tile that trapped the chill. The air was just as bad—the AC was off, but it might as well have been subzero.

  Her arms broke out in goosebumps.

  She could smell the old furniture, the dust in the corners of the room. The faint scent of pencil shavings and dry-erase markers.

  Outside, the faint glow of hallway lights crept under the door, flickering slightly. A reminder that the world was still moving, even as she sat here, unraveling.

  She was trembling.

  Fear. Anger. Regret. Guilt.

  She had yelled at them.

  She had never yelled at them before.

  They didn’t deserve it.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, curling her hands into tight fists.

  She didn’t understand any of it.

  She just felt so angry. At everything. At nothing.

  And beneath the anger…

  She felt alone.

  “Why? Why am I such an idiot? Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? What if they don’t forgive me? What if they don’t want to be my friends anymore? What if—

  What if I just pushed them away forever?”

  The thought was too much.

  A few hot tears slipped down her cheeks, threatening to overwhelm her completely.

  —

  Lucy hadn’t realized Emily had slipped into the room until she looked up—and nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Emily sat beside her, cross-legged, waiting patiently.

  “Oh gosh, you gargoyle!” Lucy whispered, tensing up and hurriedly rubbing her face.

  Her heart thumped as embarrassment swelled in her chest. How long had Emily been sitting there? She quickly turned away, hugging her knees tighter. “Go away,” she muttered reluctantly. “Leave me alone.”

  Emily didn’t move.

  Lucy waited, sniffling, wondering if she’d take the hint—but when the silence stretched, she finally gnced sideways. Not directly at Emily, but close enough.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper—both hopeful and dreading the answer.

  Emily sighed and nudged her lightly with her elbow. “Because my friend feels awful, dummy.”

  Lucy’s throat tightened again. Her chest ached. She wanted to argue. To tell Emily to just go - but she couldn’t. Deep down, she didn’t want to.

  Emily nudged her again, pyful but gentle. “We’re okay, Luce. Lily’s cool too. She would’ve come, but…” Emily hesitated, then smiled softly. “You know Lily—all braver now, but still sensitive. She thought you’d feel cornered if we both came.”

  Lucy sniffled. She had a point.

  “…I didn’t mean to yell at you,” she admitted quietly.

  Emily nodded. “I know.”

  “I didn’t mean to say all those things…”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t think you’re actually jerks.”

  “I know.”

  Lucy narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at Emily. “Do you know any other words?”

  Emily paused. Then—“I don’t know?”

  That did it.

  Lucy snorted before dissolving into giggles. Emily grinned as she joined in, their snickers and giggles echoing in the empty room.

  The tension cracked, just a little.

  A moment passed, the two of them just sitting there.

  Then, Emily spoke, her voice quieter. “I didn’t realize you were feeling left out, Luce.”

  Lucy didn’t answer right away - she didn’t want to say it out loud. Eventually, however, she mumbled, “Yeah.”

  Emily exhaled, staring up at the ceiling. “That sucks. I’m sorry we made you feel that way—even if we didn’t mean to.”

  Lucy looked up at Emily again and blinked. That wasn’t the response she expected.

  Emily sighed, shifting slightly. “Y’know, being alone sucks in general. And you’ve been through a lot, huh? Moving here, leaving your friends, your family, the ocean—everything behind?”

  Lucy shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, yeah, but—”

  Emily shook her head. “No, it couldn’t have been easy.”

  She gnced at Lucy with an understanding smile. “You put on such a brave front—the naughty, lively girl. Sometimes, we forget that you’re sensitive too.”

  Lucy blinked. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

  Emily groaned, flopping back against the wall. “People can be such assha—asses,” she quickly corrected, her cheeks flushing slightly.

  Lucy snorted despite herself.

  Emily waved a hand. “School groups were already set in stone when you got here, weren’t they? And you? The California girl, from halfway across the country?”

  She tilted her head. “And now, you’re scared of being left behind again, huh?”

  Lucy’s breath caught.

  Emily had nailed it.

  Perfectly.

  Emily nodded knowingly. “I get it.”

  Then, softer, with an almost wistful sadness, she murmured—

  “…He had to go through it, too.”

  —

  Lucy sniffed, wiping at her eyes. The cssroom still felt cold, too empty, like a forgotten space outside of time. Emily was there - waiting, observing, but something about her felt different.

  Even with the dim lighting, Lucy could see it. A shift. A subtle change in posture—more grounded, more certain. It was still Emily - but she was more commanding. Not stiff or aggressive, just more certain.

  It was still Emily.

  But at the same time, it wasn’t.

  Lucy swallowed. “Who had to go through it too?”

  Emily’s fingers curled into a loose fist against her thigh, tapping lightly, like she was thinking—or, Lucy considered, deciding how much to say.

  “Someone I know,” she murmured.Her voice was calm, low, not unkind but measured and with a note of mencholy. “Or knew. From far, far away.”

  Lucy nodded and simultaneously squinted, trying to make out her expression in the dim light.

  That was when Emily stood up—abruptly—and pulled Lucy with her, eliciting a squeaky yelp from her friend. “What the—? Em?”

  Emily didn’t answer right away. She just smiled—not mischievous, not teasing, but something steadier, calming, knowing.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s help you work through this.”

  Lucy blinked, still dazed from everything that had happened. “Work through what?” she cautiously asked.

  But Emily wasn’t waiting.

  She raised her hands, palms out. “Punch my hands.”

  Lucy stared at them. “Huh?” she said bnkly.

  Emily wiggled her fingers. “You heard me. Not too hard, but make it count. One-two motion—right, then left.”

  Lucy hesitated, trying to process what was happening here. She expected something, anything, maybe a hug, maybe an ‘it will all be better’ ptitude but - not this

  “Why?” she asked bluntly.

  Emily smirked, shifting her stance slightly. “Because sometimes, you girls talk too much. Sometimes, you need action to get you out of your own head.”

  Lucy snorted. “What do you mean you girls? You’re one too.”

  Emily grinned, but there was something sharp in her eyes now. “I am,” she admitted cheekily. “And some days? I like to take a leaf out of the guys’ pybook.”

  Her stance broadened slightly, just enough to look anchored, steady. This wasn’t how Emily normally stood, but Lucy was nevertheless intrigued.

  She shook her head but lifted her fists anyway. “Okay but don’t yell at me if I hurt you!”

  She tapped Emily’s hands lightly.

  Emily rolled her eyes and sighed. “Oh, come on, Luce. You can do better than that. Again.”

  Lucy smirked, adjusting her stance. Something about Emily’s energy was contagious, propelling her and she punched again. Harder.

  And again.

  And again.

  Emily absorbed the impacts effortlessly—her hands barely shifting. It should have felt like hitting a pillow, but somehow, it didn’t. Lucy saw her move her hands, change her posture just at the st second, conceivably to absorb the impact.

  Lucy frowned. “How’d you do that?”

  Emily smirked. “Physics, we’ll learn more about it one day.”

  Then she wiggled her fingers again. “But did I ask you to stop, California girl? Did I show you a stop sign?”

  Lucy huffed, getting competitive. “Fine, you asked for it”

  She punched again.

  Then another.

  And again.

  The movement settled into her muscles, the repetition steadying her mind.

  Each punch felt cleaner. Sharper. The rhythm felt right - and then it came”

  “Now talk” Emily commanded, her voice serious but still kind.

  Lucy faltered mid-punch. “What?”

  Emily didn’t waver. “Talk,” she repeated. “About what’s really bothering you. And keep punching.”

  Lucy’s fists tightened. She punched again.

  Her heart pounded.

  One-two. One-two.

  “…I feel invisible,” she blurted.

  She felt it in her knuckles.

  The weight of the words hitting as hard as her fists.

  One-two.

  “I feel like I’m extra.”

  One-two.

  “I don’t fit anywhere.”

  One-two. One-two.

  Her breathing hitched.

  “I hated moving here.” Punch. “I had no choice.” Punch.

  She punched harder.

  “I had to leave everyone behind.”

  One-two. One-two.

  Emily absorbed every hit, smoothly adjusting—never stopping her, never flinching.

  Lucy’s hands stung. Her shoulders ached.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Her chest was too full, her throat too tight.

  “I don’t fit in here.” Punch. “I don’t know if I ever will.” Punch.

  “I thought people here were supposed to be nice.” Punch.

  They weren’t.

  “They were jerks—just polite jerks. No one wanted to let me in, everyone just thought I was weird for existing!”

  Her breathing grew uneven and her fists slowed.

  “Mom and Dad don’t get it.” Punch. “I know why we moved.” Punch. “They were miserable, but—”

  Her hands curled tighter.

  “Damn it—I HATED IT.”

  She swung her hardest punch yet.

  Emily caught it again, smoothly, effortlessly.

  Lucy gasped, chest heaving.

  “I HAD NO CHOICE! NO ONE ASKED ME IF I WANTED THIS” she yelled, as her arms shook, tears streaming.

  She paused, heaving in and out, and then unched another exhausted punch.

  Slower, weaker.

  “And I finally—finally—found you and Lily.”

  Her hands felt too heavy.

  “My two best friends.”

  Her breath hitched.

  She threw another, shaky punch.

  “…I’m scared,” she whispered, voice cracking.

  “I’m scared of being left behind.”

  One st punch -barely a tap.

  “…Again.”

  “I’m scared that you and Lily don’t want to hang with me anymore. That I’m the weird kid again.”

  Her arms dropped.

  Her whole body trembled.

  For a moment, the only sound in the room was her uneven breathing.

  —

  Lucy stared at the ground, panting, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Sweat dripped from her brow, cooling against her flushed skin. She felt lighter, drained, raw—like something heavy had finally been pulled out of her.

  But the vulnerability? That still cwed at her.

  She waited for judgment and awkwardness -for Emily to say something soft, pitying, too much.

  Instead—Emily simply took her hands.

  “Luce—” Emily said gently, cupping Lucy’s hands within her own. “It’s okay.”

  Her voice was calm, even, firm—but there was something in it that felt like a warm bnket being wrapped around her.

  Lucy looked up, blinking, startled.

  No teasing. No joking. Just Emily - but somehow more.

  Emily tilted her head slightly, studying Lucy before speaking again, her voice softer now. “Lucy, can I tell you a story?”

  Lucy frowned. “Huh?”

  Emily didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Once upon a time,” she began, “a lost soul walked into this school. A year or two ago, maybe. That soul was alone. New school, no friends, didn’t know where their cssroom was—heck, one could even say it was a new world.”

  Lucy stilled as she listened carefully, wondering where this was going.

  Emily’s voice was steady. “That soul was scared. Walking in a daze, trying to blend in, trying not to be the imposter. Trying not to screw it all up.”

  Then, she smiled. A small, knowing smile.

  “You know who helped that lost soul out?” Emily asked. “You know who had her own problems but still stuck out a hand anyway? When she didn’t need to?”

  Before Lucy could answer, Emily reached out and tweaked her nose.

  Lucy snorted and rubbed it instinctively. The gesture was new, unexpected - but for some reason, it was comforting.

  Emily grinned and whispered. “It was you, Lucy.”

  Lucy’s breath caught again.

  Emily’s voice softened, but her eyes were unwavering. “I was the lost soul. And I would have stayed lost if it hadn’t been for you.”

  Lucy stared. The weight of those words settled deep.

  “You didn’t even hesitate,” Emily continued. “You, this chaotic little hobgoblin, saw me standing there like an awkward lump and just—decided. Decided I was your friend. Decided I was worth knowing. And I don’t think you even realize how much that meant to me.”

  Lucy felt something catch in her throat.

  Emily nudged her lightly. “So, yeah, things are changing. It’s scary. I get it. But nothing—NOTHING—is going to change the fact that we’re your friends. You’re stuck with us.”

  Lucy bit her lip, looking away.

  Emily let the moment settle, then sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. “And maybe Lily and I can do a bit better, pay more attention, make sure we aren't being exclusionary” she admitted, shaking her head.

  Lucy opened her mouth, but Emily held up a hand.

  “Buuuut—” Emily continued, “you gotta meet us halfway, okay? We’re not mind readers. If you ever start feeling like this again—alone, or sad, or like you don’t belong—tell us.”

  She leaned in suddenly, wrapping Lucy in a tight, near rib-crushing hug.

  Lucy froze for half a second—then melted into it.

  “You’re one of us, Lucy,” Emily murmured. “And we’re never letting you go.”

  Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. The lump in her throat was still there—but it didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

  Her eyes shot open when Emily uncharacteristically added. “Now, stop freaking out, or I’ll have to tickle the snot out of you.”

  Lucy gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!” not sure if perhaps her friend would really carry through with her threat? Seeing an opening, Emily wiggled her fingers in warning. “Oh, you forget who you’re dealing with.”

  Lucy squealed, scrambling away. “TRAITOR! You’re supposed to be the responsible one!”

  Emily ughed and lunged—but stopped short. Instead, she grinned wickedly and tweaked Lucy’s nose one st time.

  Lucy groaned. “Why do you keep doing that?”

  Emily shrugged. “Because it annoys you.”

  She paused and whispered “And I dunno. Feels kinda safe, I guess.”

  But before Lucy could question it, Emily grinned again, quick and sharp, and tilted her head. “Long lost family member. Long story.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight pressing down on her chest felt lighter. Manageable.

  Emily stretched like a cat, yawning and exhaling. The serious moment had passed—but something about the air between them had shifted. Then, gently, knowingly, she nudged Lucy’s shoulder. “Come on,” she said. “Lily’s probably freaking out.”

  Lucy huffed. “Ugh. She’s gonna be SO dramatic about this.”

  Emily snorted as she extended her hand to Lucy “Oh, you’re one to talk.”

  Lucy let herself be pulled up.

  Before they stepped out of the dim cssroom—before the real world came rushing back in—she paused.

  She realized she wasn’t scared anymore.

  She turned to Emily.

  “…Thanks.”

  Emily blinked, caught slightly off guard before a smile broke across her face.

  Back to that warm, easy, unshakable Emily smile - the confidence, the command and control fading away. Back to her silly, happy, sweet friend.

  “Always.”