Lithia wasn't quite sure how it happened.
One moment, she was plotting her next move in the "modern world," trying to figure out how to deal with people who believed that the word "social" meant more than just screaming inane sentences at each other. The next, she had somehow—through an act of what could only be described as pure misfortune—accumulated a handful of people who now believed she was part of their "friend group."
It didn't make sense. There was no rhyme, no reason. And she wasn't entirely sure they hadn't all suffered some kind of traumatic brain injury before their encounter with her.
But, alas, here she was—stuck with them.
The first of the "friends" to latch on was Harper. Harper was one of those people who thought wearing black clothes automatically made them mysterious. She was wrong, of course—Lithia was the embodiment of mystery, but Harper did have her merits. She was sharp, sarcastic, and, for some unfathomable reason, found Lithia amusing.
"Hey, weirdo," Harper said, sidling up to Lithia as she stood by the school gate. "You look like you're contemplating the murder of every person around you. You okay?"
Lithia shot her a side-eye. "I'm perfectly fine. I'm just wondering how your fashion sense manages to be so... tragic while still being... so loud."
Harper blinked, but she didn't flinch. She just shrugged, taking it as a compliment. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I thought I'd warn you. The others are, like, obsessed with you. They're all 'Who's the new girl?' and I'm like, please don't let it be someone who actually talks about their feelings."
"You think I talk about my feelings?" Lithia scoffed, her voice dripping with venom. "I don't even have feelings, Harper."
Harper grinned. "Right. I forgot. You're basically a walking iceberg with a bad attitude. So, uh... just letting you know, you're in now. Whether you like it or not."
"In?" Lithia raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "I didn't sign up for any of this."
"That's the beauty of it," Harper said. "No one does."
Then there was Micah. Micah was... well, let's just say he was a lot. He had a way of talking to people that made you feel like you'd just been hit by a bus of enthusiasm and random facts. And to make things even more weird, he seemed to think Lithia was "just the right amount of terrifying to be cool."
"I was wondering," Micah said one afternoon, appearing out of nowhere like some sort of caffeine-powered ninja, "if you've ever considered embracing your darkness?"
Lithia stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're like... vampire chic!" Micah exclaimed, bouncing on his heels. "You should totally lean into it. Like, no one has your aesthetic. You could get sponsored by, like, some goth fashion brand. Or better yet—start your own cult!"
"Do you always speak in incoherent word vomit?" Lithia muttered. "I have zero interest in starting a cult."
Micah's eyes widened as if she had just revealed the secret to immortality. "That's because you don't know how powerful it could be! Imagine—you could make a whole society of dark beings who only eat things like black licorice and drinks that taste like regret."
"You're insane," Lithia deadpanned.
"I'm fascinating," he corrected her, winking. "And you're just the right amount of crazy to keep up."
"Ugh. Why me?" Lithia sighed, slouching against the wall. "I was better off being alone."
"Well, being alone is a choice, but I'm pretty sure you're just socially crippled," Micah grinned, throwing his arm around her shoulder like they were best friends. "Congratulations, though! You've got us now."
And that's how Lithia found herself with two people who, against all logic, seemed to think that she was someone worth associating with. She wasn't sure what was worse—dealing with them or being stuck in this world where people insisted on talking.
But there was something else, something strange that kept pulling her back. Every time they dragged her into one of their absurd conversations, something inside of her flickered.
It wasn't emotion. No, it couldn't be. She didn't do emotions.
But it was something—something that felt disturbingly like acceptance.
So here she was, stuck with Harper, who was a magnet for sarcasm and random dark thoughts, and Micah, who made it his life's work to get Lithia to crack a smile. She couldn't say she liked them, but they sure as hell weren't boring.
One afternoon, Lithia was leaning against the bleachers, silently watching the chaos unfold around her. Harper was arguing with a group of students over some pointless thing (probably the color of their shoes, because that was a real crisis for some reason), and Micah was in the middle of showing some random kid how to "unlock their true inner chaos" by screaming at a tree.
And yet—Lithia was here.
She was... part of this.
"Hey, Lithia," Harper called out, waving frantically. "Come join the chaos! We're planning to disrupt a school meeting later. Just gotta figure out what else we can break!"
Lithia blinked slowly, then rolled her eyes. "I've seen more organized destruction in my military campaigns. I'll pass on your underwhelming attempt to wreak havoc."
But as she turned to leave, a little voice inside of her whispered something—something almost human.
Maybe she could get used to this after all.