The new girl

"This is wrong," she whispered again, but it was weaker now, more of a breathless confession than a protest.

His fingers traced the curve of her hip, his grip firm, possessive. "And yet, you're not stopping me," he murmured against her lips before claiming them once more.

She lost herself in the moment—the heat, the intensity, the delicious thrill of knowing they were teetering on the edge of something forbidden.

And then—

A sharp intake of breath. A voice, raw with disbelief.

"What the hell?"

Jackie's stomach plummeted.

Mr. Jones went rigid against her, his hands still resting on her body as they both turned toward the source of the sound.

Taylor stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide with horror, her face pale under the dim kitchen light.

For a long, agonizing second, silence stretched between them.

Jackie scrambled away from Mr. Jones, her pulse hammering in her ears. "Taylor, I—"

But Taylor had already taken a step back, her expression twisting from shock to anger, to something even worse—betrayal.

Her voice trembled, but her words cut through the thick air like a blade. "Are you serious right now?" Her gaze darted between them, realization settling in, dark and suffocating. "My dad, Jackie? Are you kidding me?"

Jackie's throat tightened. Shame and panic warred inside her, but no words came.

Mr. Jones exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Taylor, listen—"

But Taylor let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "No. No. I don't wanna hear this. This—" Her voice cracked. "This is messed up."

Jackie took a shaky step forward, guilt pressing heavy on her chest. "Taylor, please, I didn't—"

"Save it." Taylor's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with hurt. "Just… don't. I don't even know who you are right now."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving nothing but the sound of her retreating footsteps and the unbearable weight of what had just happened.

Jackie felt like she couldn't breathe.

Mr. Jones exhaled, rubbing his face. "Well," he muttered. "That could've gone better."

Jackie could only stare at the empty doorway, her heart pounding, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

The soft rustling of fabric filled the room as Gleed smoothed the corners of her bed, adjusting the last few items in her space. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm streaks across the floor. The air still smelled of new furniture and a hint of lavender from the scented wipes she had used earlier.

Then, the door creaked open.

Gleed turned, expecting to see an RA or maybe a curious neighbor, but instead, a girl stood hesitantly in the doorway, clutching the strap of her duffel bag like a lifeline. Her wide brown eyes flickered uncertainly across the room as if she wasn't quite sure she belonged here.

"Hi, I'm Lily," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gleed leaned against the desk, tilting her head slightly. The girl was delicate—like a pressed flower in an old book, her presence so quiet it barely made a ripple. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, a silent giveaway of her nerves.

A slow, easy smile spread across Gleed's face. "I'm Gleed. Yeah, new intake, huh?"

Lily gave a small nod, her shoulders slightly hunched as if she were bracing herself.

Gleed gestured to the other side of the room with a casual wave of her hand. "That's your side."

A soft, relieved smile touched Lily's lips. "Thank you."

As Lily carefully unzipped her suitcase, folding each piece of clothing with almost reverent precision, Gleed flopped onto her bed and pulled out her phone. The contrast between them was striking—Lily moved as if afraid to disturb the air, while Gleed sprawled effortlessly, tapping out messages with ease.

A few quick texts later, Gleed sat up, slipping her feet into her shoes. "I'll be stepping out for a bit. Bye," she said offhandedly.

Lily's hands stilled over a folded blouse. It was a tiny pause, almost imperceptible, but Gleed caught it—the way her shoulders sank slightly, the flicker of disappointment in her eyes before she masked it with a polite nod.

Gleed hesitated, then exhaled through her nose. "Hey, do you want to come along?" She leaned against the doorframe, watching Lily closely. "My friends and I are just going to hang out. I can introduce you to them; they're cool people."

Lily's lips parted in surprise. "I—" She glanced down at herself, fingers clutching the hem of her sweater again. Her instinct was to decline, to retreat into the safety of the room. But something in Gleed's expression—open, inviting—made her hesitate.

For once, maybe she didn't have to hide.

She swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Thank you, that would be great."

Gleed's smile widened. "Alright, let's go."

Lily took a breath and followed.

The door to Andrea and Taylor's room flew open with zero warning as Gleed strolled inside like she owned the place.

"Hey, girls!" she called out.

Taylor, standing by her closet mid-change, yanked a fitted top over her head before turning to glare. "Ever heard of knocking?"

Gleed smirked. "Nope."

Andrea, lounging on her bed, barely lifted her head before her gaze landed on Lily, who stood just behind Gleed like a shadow. Andrea's brows lifted slightly in mild curiosity.

"Who's that?"

Gleed nudged Lily forward. "Oya, this is Lily, my new roommate. You know, since the other girl moved out."

Lily mustered a shy smile. "Hi," she said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Andrea gave her a once-over—not unkindly, but with quiet assessment—before nodding in greeting. Taylor, however, barely spared Lily a glance before turning to Gleed.

"So… what's she doing here?"

Gleed shot her a look. "Don't be rude." She slung an arm around Lily's shoulders, her easy warmth serving as a bridge between them. "She's new, she's shy, and I figured she could meet some people. Hang out, you know?"

Taylor finally gave Lily a proper look, her eyes flicking over the oversized sweater, the long skirt, the closed-off posture. "Yeah, well, I don't think what she's wearing is 'hanging out' material."

Lily stiffened, her fingers tightening at the fabric of her sleeves. It wasn't the words that stung—it was the confirmation of what she had already suspected. She *didn't* look like she belonged here. Not with them.

Gleed rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. We're not running a fashion contest."

Taylor smirked. "No, but maybe we should." She tapped her chin theatrically before grinning. "Maybe… a little makeover?"

Lily's eyes widened. "Makeover?"

Taylor chuckled. "Yeah. If this were the nineties, this would be a total movie moment."

Andrea, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "Let her be, Taylor." Her voice was calm, but there was an underlying firmness to it.

Lily glanced at her in surprise, and for the first time, some of the tension in her shoulders eased.

Gleed nudged Lily playfully. "Come on, let's get going before Taylor decides *we all* need makeovers."

Lily let out a small laugh—soft, hesitant, but real. A spark of warmth flickered in her chest.

She still felt out of place, still unsure. But for the first time since arriving, she wasn't completely invisible.

And maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to be.