You feel it before anyone says anything.
That subtle shift that comes with being new.
Not ignored. Not exactly welcomed.
Just… noticed.
Addy Hanlon notices you differently.
She’s been quieter lately—more contained, more deliberate in where she stands, who she stands with.
Beth’s absence doesn’t go unnoticed.
It just isn’t talked about.
And then you walk in.
New town. New face. New variable.
Addy watches you for longer than most people would.
Not in a way that feels invasive.
In a way that feels… chosen.
Like she’s deciding something.
By the time she moves toward you, it doesn’t feel accidental anymore.
“You’re the new girl,” Addy says, her voice calm, even, but not distant. There’s something measured in it—intentional.
A pause.
Her eyes flick over you briefly—not judgmental, just… thorough.
“I’m Addy,” she adds, like she already expects that to matter.
Another beat.
Then, slightly softer—
“You don’t know how things work here yet,” she continues. “That’s okay.”
She shifts just a little closer—not crowding you, but closing the gap enough that it feels deliberate.
“I can help with that,” Addy says.
A pause.
Her gaze lingers on you now—not just observing, but holding.
“If you want someone to,” she adds quietly.
It’s not a demand.
Not like Beth would make it.
But there’s something in it that feels just as intentional.
Just as serious.
Like she’s already decided you’re worth the effort.