Chapter 6 – Little Shifts

(Emma’s POV)

The week drifted by faster than I expected, and for the first time since I started at Manatee High, I didn’t feel like an outsider. I wasn’t one of the glossy rich kids, but I wasn’t invisible anymore either. I was just… there. Present.

By Thursday, the smell of paint had already become part of my routine. Art class was tucked away at the end of the east wing, and it always felt like a different world—messy tables, mismatched stools, sunlight cutting through high windows. I liked it.

That morning, the girl who sat next to me looked up from her sketchpad. “You’re Emma, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling a little. “And you’re Lilla.”

She grinned. “Guess word gets around. Connor Adler’s friend, right?”

I blinked, feeling my face warm. “We’re… kind of friends. I guess.”

“Relax,” she said, laughing. “I’m not about to ask for his autograph or something. He’s cool, though. His sister Chelsea’s in my drama class—total natural.”

I found myself smiling wider. “Yeah, Chelsea’s great.”

Lilla’s hair was a soft honey-brown, tied up messily with a paint-stained ribbon. She wore rings on almost every finger, and somehow, they all matched. She was loud, but not in a mean way—more like she didn’t know how to hold back her brightness.

“So,” she said, sketching lazily, “you’re actually good at this. That still life you did last class? I’m low-key jealous.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re amazing though. I saw your portrait. The shading was insane.”

She leaned over dramatically. “See, that’s how you make friends. Compliment my shading.”

I laughed, and for the first time that week, it felt easy.

⸻

By lunch, the cafeteria buzzed with a thousand overlapping conversations. I spotted Chelsea waving from across the room. She sat with two girls I didn’t know—one with a sharp bob and crisp white collar, the other with long curls and too many bracelets to count.

“Emma!” Chelsea called. “Come sit with us!”

I glanced toward Julie first. She was already sitting with Mia and James from cheer. She looked up when I met her eyes, gave a small smile, and mouthed go ahead.

I hesitated for half a second, then walked over to Chelsea’s table.

“This is Grace,” Chelsea said, motioning to the girl with the bob, “and that’s Rina. We’re in Student Council together, and we kind of run Drama Club—unofficially.”

Grace smirked. “Basically, we boss everyone around.”

Rina grinned. “And make sure they look good while we do it.”

I laughed, sliding into a seat. “Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

Chelsea sipped her iced coffee. “We’ll recruit you next semester. You’ve got the charm.”

“Oh, totally,” Rina said. “And the hair. It’s giving mysterious transfer student vibes.”

“Thanks?” I said, laughing.

Connor appeared a few minutes later, flanked by Ethan and Liam. They were carrying trays loaded with fries, fruit cups, and a ridiculous amount of soda.

“Ladies,” Ethan said, sliding into the seat next to Rina. “Hope you saved room for chaos.”

“Always,” Rina shot back.

Connor looked at me across the table. “Hey. Survived art class?”

“Barely,” I said. “Lilla almost set her sleeve on fire with a glue gun.”

He laughed, and something about the sound made my stomach do a small flip.

Ethan leaned back. “We’re thinking about heading to the park after practice tomorrow. Bring snacks, music. You down?”

“Sure,” Connor said. “Emma?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling before I could stop myself. “That sounds fun.”

Chelsea added, “We’ll come too.”

Grace and Rina exchanged a look that said, obviously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julie walking past with her cheer friends. She waved, cheerful as ever. “Hey! Don’t forget we have to finish our project tonight, Em!”

“Oh right,” I said quickly. “We can do it after dinner?”

“Can’t,” she said. “Mia and James are coming over to study. We’ll do it Saturday, okay?”

Her voice was perfectly casual, but something in her smile felt practiced.

“Okay,” I said, forcing my own smile back.

When she walked off, Rina whispered, “That your friend?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We’ve known each other forever.”

Chelsea smiled gently. “It’s nice you’ve got someone from before.”

“Yeah,” I said again, but it came out softer.

⸻

After school, I lingered by the gate for a while. The parking lot buzzed with engines and laughter. Connor waved from across the lot, his sister beside him.

“You coming tomorrow?” he called out.

“Wouldn’t miss it!” I shouted back, and he smiled in that easy, crooked way that made my chest tighten.

When I got home, the house was quiet except for the ticking of the old clock in the kitchen. Dad was working late again. I dropped my bag and went straight to my room.

The light slanted through my window, painting my sketchpad gold. I opened it, tracing the lines of my latest drawing—just hands holding a daisy. Something about it felt lonely.

I thought about Lilla’s laugh, Chelsea’s friends, Connor’s grin, and Julie’s perfect smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And then I thought about Mom. About how she would’ve asked a hundred questions about my day—what I drew, who I met, whether I liked my lunch.

My throat tightened.

For a minute, I just sat there, letting the silence press around me. Then I whispered, “You’d like them, Mom.”

It wasn’t much, but it made the ache ease a little.

I picked up my pencil and started to draw again.