The community room might be the happiest place on earth today, and I’m not even exaggerating. Not even Disneyland could compete.
The girls are everywhere—spread out at tables, leaning over sketches, passing things back and forth, trading compliments like it’s second nature. It’s loud in the best way, full of laughter and the kind of focus you only get when no one’s overthinking it.
I move between them, answering questions, offering suggestions, trying to keep up. It’s been a good morning. A really good one.
Ty claps his hands once, sharp and bright, like he’s calling a team back to center ice. “Alright, that’s a wrap, ladies. Let’s clean it up.”
I glance over my shoulder, already smiling. “You’re not the boss in here.”
He shrugs, completely at ease. “Feels like I could be.”
“It absolutely does not.”
“Agree to disagree.”
The girls start filing out anyway, backpacks slung over shoulders,voices overlapping in that end-of-session chaos that somehow feels louder when it’s winding down.
“Thank you, Vivian!”
“Today was so fun!”
“Don’t forget charms next week!”
“I won’t,” I promise, laughing as I dodge a last-second hug. “Go, go—before he makes you run drills.”
“I heard that,” Ty calls out from his spot at the back of the room. One of the girls’ moms has pulled him to the side, and from the looks of it, they’re having a bit of a convo about something.
“You were meant to,” I toss back easily.
A few of the girls still linger, hovering near the table. They take their time packing up, comparing pieces, holding them up to the light like they’ve created something far more important than charms on a chain. And maybe they have. That’s kind of the point.
“Okay, out,” I say finally, clapping my hands once. “I need to lock up before I get charged rent for being here after hours.”
They groan, but it’s half-hearted. They’re already heading for the door, when I notice the pair who’ve stayed back.
Hannah and Clara. I can’t ignore the quiet tension threading between them. It’s subtle if you’re not looking for it, yet obvious if you are. It showed up during the trophy design. Twenty minutes of focus that felt just a little too argumentative. It’s like watching two alphas trying to figure out who the “big dog” is when they’re really just puppies.
So, I don’t step in. Instead, I lift Clara’s sketch. “You forgot this.”
She turns, shoulders tight, then loosens just a fraction when she sees me.
“It’s good,” I say. “I like the stars.”
Her lips twitch. “Thanks.”
Hannah edges closer, quick and almost defensive. “It was my idea to layer them like that.”
Clara glances at her, something tense passing through her expression before it fades. She takes a breath and nods, the moment already slipping away.
“It was. Thanks, Hannah. It does look nicer.”
I watch as Hannah nods her head, accepting the praise. They’re not fixed, but something is a little bit better. By the time they head out, even I can’t deny the air feels lighter.
The room shifts in energy once they’re gone. Less noise, less movement. What does linger is the echo of a great workshop, evidence that something good has happened here.
I turn, catching sight of Ty as he wraps up his conversation with one of the moms—Ava’s, I think. She says something to him with a tight smile, then glances past him toward me and threads her arms tightly across her chest.
The look she gives me could take someone out at the knees.
