Chapter Text
The house on Bramble Row looked smaller than it had in the photos.
Not tiny, exactly just worn. The kind of place that had seen generations of students pass through it, each one leaving behind scuffed walls, mismatched furniture, and the faint, permanent smell of burnt toast.
Inside, two bedrooms were already half-lived in.
Lisa Swain had claimed the smallest room.
Not because she had to just because it felt right. Tucked at the back of the house, overlooking a narrow strip of overgrown garden, it was quiet. Contained. Hers.
Half her clothes were already folded away. Books stacked neatly on the desk. Laptop set up. Bed made with precise corners.
Controlled.
Downstairs, chaos.
Abi Franklin had arrived three days earlier and unpacked like a storm had hit.
Her room door was open, revealing a pile of clothes that hadn’t quite made it to the wardrobe, boots kicked off wherever they’d landed, and a toolbox sitting inexplicably beside the bed.
Music blared from her phone as she dragged another crate across the living room floor.
“Swain!” Abi shouted. “You seen the kettle?”
Lisa didn’t look up from where she sat at the table, notes spread out in front of her. “Kitchen.”
Abi appeared in the doorway, frowning. “Yeah, I know that. I mean have you seen it?”
Lisa blinked at her. “Yes. In the kitchen.”
Abi stared for a second, then snorted. “Right. Yeah. Fair.”
A beat.
Then
“Oh, today’s the day, isn’t it?”
Lisa nodded slightly. “Everyone else is moving in.”
Abi grinned. “Good. Place needs more life.”
Lisa didn’t say it out loud, but she wasn’t sure more life was what the house needed.
She was about to find out.
The first car pulled up just after ten.
Then another.
And another.
Within minutes, the quiet street was full of noise, car doors slamming, voices overlapping, the scrape of suitcases being dragged over pavement.
Abi was at the window instantly. “Bloody hell, it’s like a clown car out there.”
Lisa stayed where she was, listening.
“Oi!” Abi called over her shoulder. “You gonna come say hello or just observe like a creep?”
Lisa sighed softly, closing her notebook. “I’m not observing like a creep.”
“You definitely are.”
From here, the house began to split.
Not in any dramatic way just the natural drift of people claiming space. Doors closing, music starting up in different rooms, voices muffled through thin walls.
Everyone finding their own corners.
Carla Connor and Michelle Connor had taken their rooms right next to each other but had both joined into one room deciding against doing little unpacking.
Within minutes, the room was a tip. Clothes half out of bags, shoes kicked under the bed, random bits scattered across every available surface.
Michelle sat perched on the windowsill, cigarette in hand, window wide open despite the chill.
“You’re not even unpacking,” she pointed out.
Carla shrugged. “I will. Eventually.”
Michelle exhaled smoke, watching it drift out into the grey sky. “You always say that.”
“And I always get there in the end.”
“Debatable.”
Carla grinned. “You love me really.”
Michelle didn’t even hesitate. “Unfortunately.”
Downstairs, Lisa stayed in the kitchen.
It was quieter there. Or at least, quieter than the rest of the house. The noise upstairs felt distant, like background static she could choose to ignore.
She filled the kettle. Waited. Watched the steam curl as it boiled.
Controlled. Simple.
The door burst open.
Abi Franklin appeared, full force, full energy, and without warning jumped straight up onto the kitchen island, legs swinging slightly as she settled there like it was completely normal.
Lisa didn’t even flinch. “You’re going to break that.”
“I’m not,” Abi said, completely unconcerned. “It’s sturdy.”
A beat.
Then, with a grin “What do you think to me suggesting a girls’ bonding night tonight?”
Lisa glanced at her briefly, then back to her mug as she poured the water.
A shrug. “Meh.”
Abi gasped, mock offended. “Meh? That’s all I get?”
“We’re going to have to at some point,” Lisa said simply, stirring her tea. “We’re living with them for the next year. Might as well know who we’re dealing with.”
Abi pointed at her. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying.”
Lisa lifted another mug slightly. “You want one?”
“No ta,” Abi replied, hopping down from the counter in one smooth motion. “Right. I’ll go suggest the idea to everyone.”
Lisa nodded faintly, already turning back to the counter.
Abi didn’t knock.
She just walked straight into Shona Ramsey’s room.
Shona was halfway through unpacking, clothes draped over the bed, music playing quietly from her phone.
“Girly bonding night tonight?” Abi said instantly. “Alcohol, takeaway, plenty of gossip.”
Shona looked up, blinking for a second before breaking into a smile. “Sounds brilliant.”
She stepped forward slightly. “Shona, by the way.”
Abi grinned. “Nice to meet you, love. I’m Abi.”
And just like that, she was gone again.
Next door
Sarah Platt’s room.
A lot neater. Softer. Already starting to look like someone actually lived there.
She was unpacking framed photos when Abi leaned against the doorframe.
“Hey up,” Abi said, nodding at one of them. “Who’s them two lads?”
Sarah glanced down, smiling slightly. “My brothers. David and Nick.”
“Cute,” Abi said easily. “Girly bonding night tonight.”
Sarah nodded, a little shy but clearly on board. “Yeah… yeah, sounds nice.”
Abi gave her a quick smile and moved on.
Becky Falconer’s room was loud.
Even without music, it just felt loud. Half-unpacked, chaotic, clothes everywhere but in a way that somehow worked.
Abi leaned in. “Same offer. Bonding night. You in?”
Becky zipped open another bag. “Yeah, alright. Could be a laugh.”
A pause.
“What’s the deal with the quiet one?”
Abi frowned slightly. “Which one?”
“Kitchen. Blonde hair. Looks like she’s judging everyone.”
Abi huffed a laugh. “Lisa?”
“Yeah.”
Abi shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “We’ve only known each other three days. Not done much gossiping.”
Becky raised an eyebrow.
“She doesn’t strike me as the opening up type,” Abi added. “But she’s lovely. Honestly.”
Becky nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”
Then went straight back to unpacking like the conversation hadn’t even happened.
Last stop.
Abi pushed open the next door without knocking
and immediately laughed.
“Wow. You two look…busy.”
Carla and Michelle hadn’t unpacked a thing.
Suitcases open, yeah. But untouched. Clothes still folded, shoes still packed.
Michelle was still on the windowsill, cigarette between her fingers.
Carla was sprawled across the bed like she lived there already.
“Oh, always, darling,” Michelle said, taking a drag.
Abi stepped further in, glancing between them. “You both smokers?”
Carla raised a hand lazily. “Social smoker. Carla Connor.”
Michelle didn’t miss a beat. “It’s Donovan, really. She just fancied me brother that much she always dreamt about marrying him and it just stuck the name.”
Carla groaned. “Oh, here we go”
“Me mum and dad changed Carla’s name to Connor when they took her in,” Michelle continued, completely ignoring her. “Love her more than me.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
Carla swatted at her feet. “Shut up.”
“That’s Michelle,” Carla added, nodding toward her. “Michelle Connor.”
Abi grinned. “I’m Abi Franklin.”
She tilted her head slightly. “So are you Connor or Donovan?”
“Please stick to Connor,” Carla said with a laugh. “The official name change proves it.”
Abi smirked. “Fair enough.”
Then, clapping her hands once “Right, business. Girly bonding night tonight. You in?”
Carla exchanged a look with Michelle.
Michelle shrugged. “Why not?”
Carla smirked. “Yeah. Could be interesting.”
Abi pointed at them both. “Good. Living room. Tonight. Don’t bail.”
“We won’t,” Carla said.
But her tone suggested she might cause trouble instead.
As Abi disappeared back down the hallway, the house settled again into its scattered rhythm.
Seven girls.
Seven rooms.
Seven very different personalities.
And by the time night came
They’d all be in the same room.
No escaping it then.
By half six, the house had shifted again.
The earlier chaos had settled into something softer. Rooms were no longer just piles of belongings, they were starting to feel lived in. Clothes hung up mostly, beds made somewhat, little pieces of each of them scattered around like quiet claims of ownership.
Downstairs, though
That was where it all came back together.
Abi had taken charge.
Of course she had.
The coffee table in the lounge was now covered, bottles of wine, mismatched glasses, a couple of questionable-looking snacks she’d clearly grabbed last minute.
“Right,” she announced, hands on hips, surveying her work. “This is what I call effort.”
“Debatable,” Lisa Swain murmured from the doorway.
Abi pointed at her. “Don’t start.”
Lisa just moved further into the room, curling up on the edge of the sofa, tucking one leg under herself, mug swapped for a glass she hadn’t yet touched.
One by one, the others filtered in.
Shona was first, dropping onto the floor cushions like she owned them.
“Alright,” she said, looking around. “I rate this.”
“Course you do,” Abi grinned. “You said yes before I even finished the sentence earlier.”
“Because you said alcohol first.”
“Fair.”
Sarah hovered for a second in the doorway before stepping in properly, clutching her glass a little too carefully.
“Is this okay?” she asked, gesturing vaguely.
“Sit down, babe,” Shona said, patting the space next to her. “No one’s judging. Yet.”
Sarah laughed nervously and sat.
Becky came in next, already mid-sentence about something no one had heard the start of.
“and I’m telling you now, if anyone touches my food in that fridge, there’ll be problems.”
Carla Connor followed right behind her, snorting. “You’ve been here five minutes, calm down.”
“Boundaries are important,” Becky shot back, flopping onto the other end of the sofa.
“Yeah, but you don’t need to declare war over a yoghurt,” Carla said, dropping into a seat opposite.
Michelle came in last, slower, more composed, a glass already in hand like she’d been ready for this from the start.
“God, you’re all loud,” she said, though there was no real bite to it.
For a moment, it was awkward.
Not painfully so.
Just that strange, in-between silence where everyone was aware of everyone else.
Seven people who didn’t quite know each other yet, suddenly sitting in one room with the expectation that they should.
Glasses clinked lightly. Someone shifted. Someone else laughed a bit too quickly at nothing.
Lisa stayed quiet, watching over the rim of her glass.
Carla noticed.
Of course she did.
Abi clapped her hands once. “Right! No backing out now. Bonding night is officially underway.”
Becky groaned. “Do we have to call it that?”
“Yes,” Abi said firmly. “We do.”
Shona raised her glass. “To bonding, then.”
A few of them laughed, awkward but genuine, and lifted their drinks.
“To bonding.”
They drank.
“Okay,” Abi continued, settling herself cross-legged on the floor like she was hosting a proper event. “Simple rules. We go round, say our names”
“We know each other’s names,” Carla cut in.
“and three things about ourselves,” Abi carried on, ignoring her. “No boring ones. No ‘I like music’ rubbish. Make it interesting.”
Becky leaned back. “This is gonna be painful.”
“You’ll survive,” Michelle said, taking a sip.
Abi pointed. “You first, then.”
Michelle rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Michelle Connor. I hate mornings, I smoke too much, and I have zero intention of cooking for any of you.”
“Good to know,” Becky muttered.
Carla grinned. “Explains a lot, that.”
“Your turn,” Michelle shot back.
Carla shifted slightly, leaning forward, elbows on her knees.
“Carla Connor,” she said, easy, confident. “I get bored easily, I’m always right”
“Debatable,” Michelle cut in.
“and,” Carla continued, ignoring her, “I don’t do awkward.”
There was a small pause.
Then Becky laughed. “Well, you’re in the wrong house for that.”
“Yeah,” Shona added. “Bit late now.”
Carla just smirked, unfazed.
“Oh we’re all going to be best friends” Abi commented.
They went around slowly after that.
Shona was open, playful, a bit cheeky.
Sarah was softer, a little nervous but warming up quickly.
Becky they gathered was loud, unapologetic, exactly as expected.
Each one loosening the room a little more.
Laughter came easier. Silences didn’t last as long.
Lisa.
Abi nudged her lightly. “Go on.”
Lisa looked up, clearly aware that all eyes were on her now.
She didn’t rush.
Didn’t fidget.
Just took a small sip of her drink before speaking.
“Lisa Swain,” she said simply. “I like things organised. I don’t talk much”
“Noticed,” Carla muttered, just loud enough.
Lisa’s eyes flicked to her briefly.
Not annoyed.
Just noting it.
“And I’m better at listening than most people are at talking.”
A beat.
It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud.
But it landed.
Carla leaned back slightly, studying her now in a way that was a little more deliberate than before.
“Right,” she said quietly. “Yeah. I can see that.”
Lisa didn’t respond.
But she didn’t look away this time either.
Abi clapped her hands again, breaking the moment before it could linger too long.
“Perfect! See? Already bonding.”
Becky snorted. “If you say so.”
But the tension had shifted.
Something easier now. Warmer.
Seven strangers, a few glasses in, starting to become something else.
Not quite friends.
Not yet.
But getting there.
And across the room
Carla and Lisa still found themselves looking at each other, just a second longer than necessary.
Like they were both trying to figure something out.
The bottles didn’t last long.
By the time the second one had been opened and then the third, the room had softened completely. Voices louder, laughter easier, people leaning into each other like they’d known one another longer than a single day.
Everyone had settled into their own level of drunk.
Becky Falconer, Shona Ramsey and Sarah Platt were firmly past tipsy, laughter spilling out of them, conversations overlapping, stories getting louder and less coherent by the minute.
Abi Franklin hovered somewhere in the middle, grinning at everything, legs tucked under her on the floor.
Michelle Connor sat back against the armchair, glass in hand, relaxed and loose, the edge taken off but still very much aware of everything going on.
Carla Connor merry, but steady.
Watching. Smirking. Present.
And Lisa Swain
Completely sober.
Still perched on the sofa, drink barely touched, observing it all with that same quiet awareness she’d had since the morning.
Becky wandered over without much warning.
“Well,” she said, slightly unsteady as she dropped down onto the sofa very close to Lisa. “Guessing we’re the only lesbians here.”
She took another sip of her wine like she’d just stated something completely obvious.
Lisa blinked, turning her head slightly. “How did you know I’m a—”
“Gaydar,” Becky cut in instantly, grinning.
A beat.
Then she laughed at her own confidence.
Lisa studied her for a second.
“Hm.”
That was it.
Just hm.
Across the room, Carla noticed.
Of course she did.
Her eyes flicked over as Becky leaned in a little too close, talking at Lisa like they were already best mates.
Carla tilted her head slightly, watching the interaction with quiet interest.
Michelle followed her gaze. “What?”
Carla didn’t look away. “Nothing.”
Michelle raised an eyebrow. “You’re staring again.”
“I’m not”
“You are.”
Carla huffed, taking a sip of her drink. “Just observing.”
Michelle smirked. “Right.”
Back on the sofa
Becky nudged Lisa lightly with her shoulder. “Come on, don’t give me that. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Lisa exhaled softly through her nose, somewhere between amused and unimpressed.
“I didn’t realise it was that obvious.”
“It is to me,” Becky said proudly. “Takes one to know one.”
Lisa tilted her head slightly. “That so?”
“Absolutely.”
A pause.
Then Becky leaned back, looking her over again, squinting slightly like she was piecing something together.
“You’re the quiet type though, aren’t you?”
Lisa didn’t answer straight away.
“Compared to this lot?”
Becky laughed loudly. “Fair point.”
“Oi!” Shona called from the floor, pointing vaguely in their direction. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Becky shot back.
“Rude!”
Sarah giggled beside her, already halfway through another drink she definitely didn’t need.
Abi looked between them all, grinning. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“You seem like you usually are,” Carla muttered.
Abi threw a cushion at her.
Lisa leaned back slightly into the sofa, finally taking a small sip of her drink.
Becky was still close.
Too close, maybe.
But Lisa didn’t move away.
Across the room, Carla noticed that too.
Her gaze lingered just a second longer this time.
Something unreadable flickering there.
Curiosity, maybe.
Or something she hadn’t quite figured out yet.
Becky nudged Lisa again, softer this time. “So go on then. You gonna confirm it or leave me hanging?”
Lisa glanced at her, calm as ever.
Then, simply “You’re not wrong.”
Becky grinned like she’d just won something. “Knew it.”
Another sip of wine.
“Anyone else?”
Lisa’s eyes flicked, just briefly
Across the room.
To Carla.
It was quick. Easy to miss.
But not that easy.
Carla caught it.
Held it.
Raised her eyebrow slightly, like she was clocking it properly now.
Lisa looked away first.
“Right,” Becky said, oblivious to the shift, “that’s good. Means I’m not alone in this madhouse.”
“You weren’t alone anyway,” Lisa said quietly.
Becky paused, then smiled softer this time. “Yeah. Guess not.”
The noise in the room carried on loud, messy, overlapping but Carla Connor had already tuned half of it out.
Her attention had shifted.
She pushed herself up from where she’d been leaning, grabbing the nearest bottle of wine as she went, moving across the room like it was nothing. Casual. Unbothered.
But not aimless.
She stopped right in front of the sofa.
Right in front of Lisa Swain.
Becky was still there, mid-sentence about something that had lost all structure about three minutes ago, but Carla barely acknowledged her.
Instead, she tilted the bottle slightly.
“Top up, love?” she asked.
Lisa looked up at her.
Slowly.
“Yeah,” she said, just as calm as ever. “Thanks.”
She held her glass out.
And watched.
Carla poured carefully steadier than most of them at this point, the deep red liquid filling Lisa’s glass inch by inch.
Lisa’s eyes stayed on her the whole time.
Not the wine.
Her.
Taking in the details properly now she was closer.
Carla was tanned, her skin warm even under the dull lighting of the lounge. Slim build, effortless in the way she carried herself. Dark hair slightly messy from the day, falling just enough out of place to look unintentional.
Confident.
Comfortable.
Lisa was the opposite in almost every way.
Paler, her blonde hair catching the light differently, softer. A little shorter, her frame more curved, less sharp edges. Where Carla took up space without thinking, Lisa held herself back just slightly, contained.
They didn’t match.
Not obviously.
And yet
“There you go,” Carla said, finishing the pour.
She didn’t move away straight away.
Lisa’s fingers brushed lightly against the glass as she took it back.
“Thanks,” she repeated, quieter this time.
Carla shrugged. “Didn’t want you falling behind.”
A hint of a smirk.
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly struggling.”
“No,” Carla said, glancing at her barely-touched drink from earlier. “You’re definitely pacing yourself.”
“Someone has to.”
Carla huffed a small laugh. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Lisa took a sip, eyes still on her. “Watching.”
That landed.
Carla paused just slightly.
Then smiled, slower this time.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve noticed.”
Beside them, Becky leaned back dramatically. “Oi, don’t steal my conversation.”
Carla didn’t even look at her. “You’ve had plenty of it.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
Becky rolled her eyes and reached for her drink again, quickly distracted by something Shona shouted across the room.
Carla finally shifted, but only enough to lean slightly against the arm of the sofa instead of standing over her.
Closer now.
Still there.
“You always this quiet?” she asked.
Lisa considered that for a second. “Only when there’s nothing worth saying.”
Carla smirked. “And is there now?”
Another pause.
Lisa tilted her head slightly. “Maybe.”
Across the room, Michelle clocked it instantly.
She didn’t say anything, just took a slow sip of her drink, watching the two of them with a knowing look.
Abi followed her gaze, squinting slightly. “What?”
Michelle shook her head, almost to herself. “Nothing.”
But there was a hint of a smile there.
Back on the sofa
Carla straightened slightly, pushing herself off the arm.
“Careful,” she said lightly. “Keep looking at me like that and people might get the wrong idea.”
Lisa didn’t even blink.
“What idea would that be?”
Carla held her gaze for a second longer than necessary.
“That you’re interested.”
A beat.
Lisa took another sip of her wine.
Unhurried.
Then, just slightly “And if I was?”
Carla’s smirk didn’t disappear.
But it changed.
Subtler.
More real.
“Then,” she said, voice lower now, “I’d say you’ve got good taste.”
The noise of the room swelled again around them.
Laughter. Music. Becky shouting something incoherent.
But for a moment
It didn’t quite reach them.
Just the two of them, standing a little too close, saying a little more than either of them probably meant to.
The moment lingered.
Too long.
Too close.
And neither of them quite stepped back.
Carla was still leaning against the sofa, arms loosely folded now, watching Lisa in that way that felt a little too direct to be casual.
“You don’t drink much,” she said, nodding toward Lisa’s glass.
Lisa glanced down briefly. “I do.”
Carla raised an eyebrow. “That’s not convincing.”
“I just don’t see the point in getting drunk for the sake of it.”
“Mm,” Carla hummed. “You strike me as someone who likes to stay in control.”
Lisa’s eyes flicked back up to hers. “And you don’t?”
Carla smirked. “Not particularly.”
“That sounds reckless.”
“That sounds fun.”
Lisa exhaled softly, almost a laugh. “Depends how you define fun.”
Carla tilted her head slightly, studying her. “Go on then. What’s your version?”
Lisa hesitated.
Just for a second.
“Not making a fool of yourself in front of people you’ve just met.”
Carla let out a quiet laugh. “Bit late for that in this house.”
Lisa’s lips pressed together, fighting a smile. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Carla said, softer now. “You don’t seem like the type to make a fool of yourself.”
Lisa held her gaze.
“Maybe not intentionally.”
Carla’s smirk returned. “So what, you do it accidentally?”
A beat.
Something about the way she said it, light, teasing, but pointed—caught Lisa off guard.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Lisa shifted slightly, sitting up straighter now. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
Carla shrugged. “Just going off what I see.”
“And what exactly do you see?” Lisa asked, a little sharper than before.
Carla didn’t hesitate.
“Someone who overthinks everything.”
That landed.
Lisa’s jaw tightened, just slightly.
“Right.”
“And,” Carla added, like she couldn’t quite help herself, “someone who doesn’t like being figured out too quickly.”
Lisa let out a small breath through her nose.
“That’s not what this is.”
“No?”
“No.”
Carla pushed off the sofa properly now, standing in front of her again. “Then what is it?”
Lisa looked up at her.
And for the first time that evening
She looked flustered.
Not outwardly, not dramatically.
But there was a faint heat creeping up her neck, a tension in her posture that hadn’t been there before.
“You’re reading into things that aren’t there,” she said, quieter now.
Carla’s voice dropped to match. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Carla didn’t move.
Didn’t back off.
And that was the problem.
Lisa stood up.
A little too quickly.
“Right,” she said, brushing her hands together lightly, avoiding Carla’s eyes now. “I’m. I’m gonna call it a night.”
That caught the room’s attention.
“Already?” Shona slurred slightly from the floor.
“Yeah,” Becky added. “We’ve only just started getting interesting.”
Lisa forced a small smile. “Long day.”
“Fair,” Sarah said softly.
Abi tilted her head, watching her. “You sure?”
Lisa nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”
A beat.
“Night.”
A chorus of responses followed.
“Night!”
“See you in the morning!”
“Don’t die of boredom upstairs!”
Lisa huffed a small, polite laugh at that one, already heading for the door.
She didn’t look back
The moment the door shut behind her
Michelle’s eyes were on Carla.
Sharp. Observant. Unmissable.
Carla dropped back into her seat like nothing had happened, reaching for her drink.
“What was that about?” Michelle asked.
Carla shrugged, taking a sip. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“I’m not,” Carla said, glancing at her. “Just getting to know my housemates.”
Michelle held her gaze for a second longer.
Then smirked slightly. “If you say so.”
The room shifted again.
Lisa’s absence noticeable but not enough to stop the night.
Becky leaned forward, pointing her glass at Carla. “You scared her off.”
“I did not,” Carla said.
“You did a bit,” Shona laughed.
“She looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her,” Becky added.
Carla rolled her eyes. “She was fine.”
“Mm,” Michelle hummed, clearly unconvinced.
Abi clapped her hands lightly. “Right, new topic before we start psychoanalysing people who’ve gone to bed.”
“Agreed,” Sarah said quickly.
“Alright,” Becky said, leaning back again. “Who’s got the worst childhood story?”
“That’s a dangerous question,” Michelle muttered.
“Exactly why I asked it.”
And just like that
The conversation rolled on.
Stories spilled out, one after another.
Shona talking about sneaking out at sixteen and getting caught climbing back through her own window.
Becky recounting fights with her siblings that sounded more like full-on wars.
Sarah sharing softer memories, family dinners, holidays, little things that made her smile.
Abi jumping in with chaotic bits of her past, half of them sounding unbelievable, all of them somehow true.
Michelle, more reserved but still contributing, dry comments, the occasional story that said more than she probably meant it to.
Carla listened.
Joined in.
Laughed at the right moments.
But every now and then
Her gaze drifted.
Towards the door.
Upstairs, Lisa sat on the edge of her bed, glass still in hand.
Untouched.
Her mind replaying the conversation over and over again.
The way Carla had looked at her.
The way she’d said things like she already knew her.
It was
Annoying.
Unsettling.
And something else she didn’t quite want to name.
Lisa exhaled slowly, setting the glass down on her bedside table.
“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself.
Downstairs, laughter echoed faintly through the floor.
Life carrying on.
But something had shifted.
And both of them knew it.