Chapter Two: Three Strangers

By seven that evening, Eliana had officially given up on unpacking.

She sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by half-open boxes, staring at a frying pan she couldn't remember packing.

Her stomach growled.

“Traitor.”

She looked around her apartment.

The kitchen was still a disaster.

The bedroom wasn't much better.

And somehow, the only thing she had managed to accomplish all afternoon was finding three pairs of socks and losing her phone twice.

Her phone suddenly buzzed beside her.

She grabbed it.

Unknown Number:

You alive?

Eliana frowned.

Another message appeared.

Unknown Number:

It's Nate. Don't panic.

She laughed.

Eliana:

How did you get my number?

The reply came almost immediately.

Nate:

You gave it to me.

She stared at the screen.

She did?

Then she remembered.

Right.

When he'd offered to help carry the last few boxes, she'd given him her number in case he needed to contact her.

She typed back.

Eliana:

Oh.

Nate:

That's all? “Oh”?

Eliana:

What do you want me to say?

Nate:

Something like “Wow Nate, you're so handsome and helpful.”

Eliana rolled her eyes.

Eliana:

Goodnight, Nate.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Nate:

Wait.

Another message.

Nate:

We're ordering food.

Eliana paused.

Eliana:

We?

Nate:

Me and Ilyas.

She smiled.

Of course.

They had somehow become friends in the span of a few hours.

Nate:

Come over.

Eliana glanced around her apartment.

“Absolutely not.”

Her stomach growled again.

She sighed.

“…Fine.”

Five minutes later, Eliana knocked on apartment 2C.

The door opened almost immediately.

Nate stood there wearing a plain white T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

He looked entirely too comfortable for someone who had spent the afternoon moving furniture.

“You came.”

“You said there was food.”

“So you admit you're using me?”

“Correct.”

Nate laughed.

“Come in.”

Eliana stepped inside.

His apartment looked surprisingly organized.

A couch.

A television.

A few boxes stacked neatly against the wall.

And sitting at the small dining table was Ilyas.

He looked up from his phone.

“You made it.”

Eliana nodded.

“Apparently I'm here for free food.”

Ilyas glanced at Nate.

“You told her it was free?”

Nate looked offended.

“Obviously.”

Ilyas shook his head.

“I paid for half.”

“And I paid for the other half.”

Eliana sat down.

“So we're sharing?”

Nate placed the food on the table.

“Exactly.”

She opened one of the containers.

The smell immediately made her stomach growl.

Nate looked at her.

“You hungry?”

“No.”

Her stomach growled again.

Ilyas smiled.

“You're a terrible liar.”

Eliana pointed at him.

“Don't start.”

He raised both hands.

“I'm not starting anything.”

Nate laughed.

“She's going to fit in perfectly.”

Dinner was surprisingly easy.

There was no awkward silence.

Nate talked enough for three people, jumping from one ridiculous story to another.

Ilyas mostly listened, occasionally adding a dry comment that made Eliana laugh harder than Nate's actual jokes.

At some point, Nate looked between them.

“You know what?”

“What?” Eliana asked.

“We should do this again.”

Ilyas nodded.

“I'm okay with that.”

Eliana smiled.

“Sure.”

Nate held up his drink.

“To being neighbors.”

Ilyas raised his.

“To not hating each other.”

Eliana lifted hers.

“To surviving The Hawthorne.”

They tapped their cups together.

The sound was small.

Almost meaningless.

But none of them knew how often they would repeat that little ritual in the years to come.

Later that night, Eliana returned to her apartment.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

She smiled.

She hadn't expected today to go this way.

Moving into a new city was supposed to be lonely.

Instead, she'd somehow met two people she already felt strangely comfortable around.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from Nate.

Nate:

Goodnight, neighbor.

She smiled and typed back.

Eliana:

Goodnight.

Before she could put her phone down, another notification appeared.

Ilyas:

Goodnight, Eliana. Hope you sleep well.

She stared at the message for a moment.

Then smiled again.

Across the hallway, Nate was probably doing the same thing.

And in apartment 2D, Ilyas was already putting his phone away.

Three strangers.

Three separate apartments.

Three separate lives.

They had no idea how tangled those lives were about to become.