Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I ducked my gaze back down to my phone, pretending to read a notification that wasn’t even there. No one had ever called me that before. Not in a way that sounded… safe.
“Want to know the origin story of the girls and me?” Jennie suddenly blurted, her voice playful but her eyes curious, searching my face. “Maybe it’d make you like us a little more.”
I turned toward her slowly. She grinned, teeth catching her bottom lip like she was trying to hold back her excitement.
“We’re pretty cool, you know.”
They do seem really cool. Cool in a way I wasn’t.
I gave a small nod. That was all the encouragement she needed. Jennie pulled her legs up onto the bench, crossing them like a kid about to share a secret. Her bright smile tugged at her lips as she tapped her fingers against her knees, drumming out her eagerness.
“So,” she began, drawing the word out like she was settling into a story. “I met Layla first. We lived in the same building. I’m twenty, by the way—born January, ‘99. Older than those two.” She paused with a chuckle, eyes flicking up as though daring me to call her old.
I didn’t. She went on.
“We met in the lobby. She asked me for directions to Silverwood, and I was already in my second year, so I told her to come with me. We took the bus together that day. And…she’s a peach.” Jennie’s voice softened, fondness lacing every syllable. “Actually, she reminds me of you.”
Heat crawled up my neck at that. Compliments always made me flinch, but Jennie threw them so easily, so genuinely, that I didn’t know how to deflect. She’s the real peach here.
“And from there, it just… clicked. We became close. Really close, fast. She’s everything to me. Layla understands me in waysmost people don’t even try to. I loved her right away.” Jennie lowered her gaze for a moment, her smile turning smaller, softer.
I understood that. When people didn’t try to understand you, and suddenly someone did, it was impossible not to want to keep them. To hold them close. To love them fiercely.
“We met Aly last year. Well, technically, we already knew her, but she ran with her own group. And she was…” Jennie hesitated, lips pursing, searching for the right word. “Troubled. That’s putting it nicely. She smoked, hung out with people who were constantly stirring shit. Honestly, we all wondered how she even got into Silverwood, seeing that she was in jail for a few months.” She glanced at me then, eyes gleaming with disbelief before softening. “But that girl? Fucking genius.”
I nodded slowly, intrigued.
“She wasted years with the wrong people, though. And then, out of nowhere, she cut them off. Walked away. Became… well, a loner. People actually called her that.” Jennie laughed quietly to herself, shaking her head. “She scared me back then. Honestly, she still scares me sometimes. But Layla? Nothing scares Layla. Her kindness is too damn loud. Too stubborn.”
I could picture it. Layla’s open smile against Aly’s sharp edges, neither willing to bend.
“Aly pushed us away at first. Every time. She’d snap, roll her eyes, act like we were wasting her time. I couldn’t stand the way she talked to Layla, so I pushed back. Aly and I fought all the time because I wouldn’t let her talk down to Layla. And she hated that we kept showing up, kept bothering her.”
Jennie’s grin widened as she leaned closer, voice dropping like she was letting me in on something sacred. “But then… around two months later, she caved. Completely. And I swear toGod, it was all Layla. She never gave up on Aly. And now? Aly never gives up on us.”
Her laugh was softer this time, tinged with affection. “She’ll actually kill for us. Like, I’m not exaggerating. You so much as look at Layla or me wrong? Retired rebel or not, she’ll bury you.”
Jennie gave me a cheeky smile as she continued.
“You know…she sees her old self in you. A lonely, misunderstood girl who just needed a little pull. Someone to reach out and not give up. You were lucky Aly pulled. So lucky.” She tapped the bench once emphatically. “Aly helps people. That’s literally her thing. She makes it her life. But the fact that she chose you, she ran into the mud for you, that means something. She doesn’t do pity. She does choice.”
My throat tightened at the memory of that day. I hadn’t thought of it like that before… like a choice, not charity. Jennie’s words made it feel less like an accident and more like permission.
“She’ll keep pestering you to have lunch. She’ll keep bringing you things. Hate to say it, Aurora, but she’s keeping you. And we want to keep you, too.” Jennie’s grin softened into something almost protective. “If you meet Layla, you’ll love her. She’s the reason we’re what we are; she’s the glue. She’s why this group feels like home.”
She paused, eyes bright and earnest. “We don’t open our door for people. We like our trio the way it is. But we’re opening it for you. That’s not small. It means we want you here. We want you with us.”
The bench felt warmer under me. For the first time that week, something inside me loosened, tiny, cautious, like the first thaw after a long winter. I swallowed, and the nod that escaped me this time felt less automatic and more like an answer.
Okay,I signed, fingers clumsy but steady.
“So I can invite Layla over?” Jennie asked, already pulling her phone out, thumbs hovering over the screen.
I turned to Jennie and nodded, slowly but firmly. Her whole face lit up like I’d handed her a gift. She typed so fast I could barely follow her fingers, then held up her phone with a mischievous grin. “Done. No take-backs, Aurora. You belong to us now.”
My lips parted, air catching in my chest.No take-backs.Like I finally found something little me has been searching for her whole life. It took eighteen years, but I have friends. Ones that actually want me, too.
Jennie tucked her phone away and leaned back against the bench, looking smug in the most harmless way. “Trust me,” she said, her voice softer now, gentler. “You’re going to love her. Layla has this…way. Like she makes you feel like you matter just by breathing near you.”
