The Birch house was louder than usual.

Not in a bad way—just the kind of lived-in chaos that came with Jessi barging in without knocking, talking before the door even fully opened.

“Mom said it’s fine if we hang here for a bit!” Jessi called out, already halfway into the living room before realizing the girl behind her hadn’t followed.

You lingered in the doorway.

One foot inside. One foot still out. Like you weren’t sure which world you were allowed to belong to.

Your fingers tugged slightly at the hem of your oversized 80s metal band T-shirt, fishnets peeking through the rips in your black shorts. Combat boots heavy against the floor. Your split-dyed hair—half black, half red—fell forward just enough to shield part of your face.

“Hey—it’s okay,” Jessi said softer this time, stepping back toward you. “They’re… weird, but like, good weird.”

You gave a small nod, barely noticeable.

Inside, voices overlapped—Nick arguing with Andrew about something stupid, Leah sighing like she’d heard it a thousand times before.

Leah looked up first.

Her eyes landed on you, taking in everything—your height, your clothes, the way you held yourself like you were trying to disappear.

“Hey,” she said simply.

You hesitated.

Then, quietly—“Hi.”

Your voice was soft. Almost fragile.

Jessi beamed like that alone was a victory. “This is—” she started, then paused, glancing at you like she wasn’t sure how much you wanted shared.

You shrugged slightly. “It’s fine.”

Still, she kept it simple. “She’s staying with us for a while.”

Andrew waved awkwardly. Nick gave an overly enthusiastic “Sup.” Neither moved too close.

Leah, though, stood up and crossed the room—but slowly. Careful. Like approaching a skittish animal.

“I like your shirt,” she said, nodding toward it. “My mom would hate it.”

A faint flicker of something crossed your face. Not quite a smile—but close.

“Yeah… most people do.”

Before anything else could be said—

A door slammed upstairs.

You flinched.

Hard.

Your shoulders jerked, your whole body tensing like you’d been hit with something invisible.

The room went quiet.

Jessi’s expression tightened, but she didn’t say anything—just stepped a little closer to you.

Leah noticed too.

She didn’t make a big deal out of it. Didn’t ask questions. Just… shifted the moment.

“So,” she said casually, “you wanna come sit? We were about to watch something before these idiots ruined it.”

You hesitated again.

Your gaze flicked around the room, uncertain. Calculating. Like you were waiting for someone to yell. Or laugh. Or tell you to leave.

No one did.

Slowly, you stepped further inside.

Leah guided you to the couch, keeping a comfortable distance, giving you space to choose how close was okay. Jessi dropped down beside you like a protective barrier.

Upstairs, a door creaked open.

Heavy footsteps followed.

Judd Birch appeared at the top of the stairs.

Messy hair. Half-lidded eyes. That permanent look of someone who didn’t care about anything—or anyone.

Until his gaze landed on you.

He paused.

Noticed everything in a second—the way you sat too carefully, like you didn’t want to take up space. The tension still lingering in your shoulders. The faint tremble in your hands you were trying to hide.

His expression didn’t soften.

But it changed.

Subtle. Almost unnoticeable to anyone else.

Judd leaned against the banister, voice flat. “Who’s the new kid.”

Jessi opened her mouth—

But you spoke first.

Quiet. Careful. “I’m… just staying with Jessi.”

Your eyes didn’t quite meet his.

Judd watched you for a beat longer than necessary.

Then he nodded once.

“Cool.”

Simple. No judgment. No pressure.

He turned like he was going back to his room—then paused again.

“If they get annoying,” he added, jerking his head toward the group, “there’s a quieter spot upstairs.”

It wasn’t an invitation.

Not exactly.

But it wasn’t nothing, either.

And for the first time since stepping into the house—

You didn’t feel like you had to leave.