Vanessa
Melissa settles into the chair, wrapped in the blanket like it's emotional armor. Everyone looks at her with a mix of curiosity and respect. No one pressures her, but the silence that fills the room is clearly an invitation.
I look at her, and she meets my gaze. We both know she can't tell the whole story. Or at least, she has to be smart enough to tell a half-truth that feels whole.
"Well," she says, with a steadier voice than I expected, "the short version is my ex-boyfriend cheated on me, and I decided to cross half the planet so I wouldn't have to explain it to anyone. But the long version… is more complicated."She pauses for a moment—I know she's struggling to find the right words.
Konnor settles on the floor, like he knows this is going to take a while. And just as Melissa seems to gather the courage to keep talking, the popcorn tub Konnor left on the edge of the table decides to steal the spotlight: it rolls slowly at first, then with purpose, and crashes to the floor with a thud that echoes off all four walls. The popcorn bursts out like it wants to join the conversation, and Shawn, without missing a beat, exclaims:
"That was the trailer! Are we ready for the feature film now?"
Laughter breaks out—light and contagious—and the awkward moment dissolves into the air as everyone helps pick up popcorn, like they're gathering pieces of some emotional puzzle only this group could solve.
Melissa takes a deep breath."The truth is, I didn't come just because of Nick. I came because of Vanessa. Because when she left, something in me broke. And I couldn't stay there pretending everything was fine."
She throws me a questioning glance, silently asking what parts of our lives we're willing to share. I give her a subtle shake of my head. All she needs to understand: we don't talk about our families. She smiles and continues her wild tale, carefully avoiding any mention of my uncle and reshaping the narrative around the decisions she made in recent days because of him.
When Melissa finishes speaking, the room falls silent. Not awkward—reverent. As if everyone knows what she just shared wasn't just a story, but a confession wrapped in vulnerability.
Wenn is the first to break the silence, her warmth flowing effortlessly."What you did… that loyalty, that unconditional love… it's admirable. Not many people would cross half the planet for someone. And I'm really glad you're here. Truly."
Melissa smiles, grateful. And Shawn, as always, balances the emotion with his ironic humor."I just want to know if at any point during that trip you thought: 'Am I crossing the line between a brave decision and a level of chaos even I won't be able to justify?' Or was it just a normal Tuesday for you?"
Konnor, never missing a beat, adds:"And if you didn't think it, I thought it for you. But still, I respect the level of production. Seven suitcases and a thousand layovers… that's not drama, that's international logistics."
We laugh, and Melissa lets herself be swept up in the lightness. But then Maeson, with his slower, thoughtful tone, speaks:"How did you two meet? Because that kind of connection doesn't happen in just a couple of years."
Melissa gives me a quick glance, like she's searching for the script we never wrote. I tense up—we haven't discussed our "Plan B" to avoid mentioning our families. But as always, she improvises with grace.
"We met at a writing workshop when we were nine. I wrote about dragons, and she wrote about astronauts who wanted to be poets. We fought over a pencil, and haven't let go of each other since."
Konnor nods, convinced."That sounds legit. The origin of every true friendship is a fight over stationery."
Shawn laughs."Now I get why you two understand each other without speaking. Childhood trauma bonding."If they only knew the real childhood traumas we share, I doubt the conversation would be this funny.
Maeson says nothing. He just watches me with that gaze that analyzes more than it asks. I know he's not entirely convinced, but he doesn't push. At least not now.
And just when the mood seems to have stabilized, Zane speaks. His tone is sharper than usual, and his gaze lands directly on Melissa.
"So you left your life, your country, everything… just because some guy cheated on you and your friend wasn't there to comfort you? Doesn't that seem a little… stupid?"
The words drop like a stone in the center of the room. Everyone freezes. Melissa looks at him, unblinking.
"What seems stupid to me is judging a decision you don't understand, from a life you haven't lived," she replies, with a calm that cuts deeper than any shout.
Then she stands up—no drama, no trembling."Wenn, can you show me where I'll be sleeping? Goodnight, everyone."
Wenn nods, surprised but composed, and the two of them leave the room. Melissa walks with her head held high, as always. She doesn't lower herself. She doesn't break. She simply walks away.
When the door closes behind them, I turn to Zane. I give him a look that mixes anger and confusion. Because I don't understand what that was. I didn't expect it from him. And something tells me this isn't just about Melissa. It's about something he doesn't know how to handle.
I follow my friends. When I enter the room, Wenn is showing Mel where to find everything she might need. The guys left the suitcases there, so the space is really small.
Melissa notices and says,"Well, I better start unpacking a few things—see if we can actually walk in here."
Just then, Wenn yawns, and I see the exhaustion in her eyes. These days have been emotionally heavy for her, and I'm sure her pregnancy adds to the fatigue.
Melissa throws me a quick glance, then turns to me and lowers her voice, switching to Spanish naturally.
"Vanessa, do you think anyone noticed our lie?"
"I don't think so," I reply in Spanish, just as quietly. "Besides, you played it off pretty well. Although… your face when Maeson asked how we met was a poem."
Melissa chuckles softly, but without much energy, just as Wenn turns toward us."Everything okay?" she asks, seemingly unaware of anything.
"Yes, all good," I reply, switching back to English smoothly. "We're going to unpack a bit to free up space."
"Perfect. I'm already in collapse mode," says Wenn, with a tired smile. "Vane, Mel—do you mind if…?"
"Wenn, go rest. You've done so much for everyone today. I'll help Mel."Wenn looks at me with gratitude, knowing I understand more than I say—because of our shared secret. She hugs us both and leaves without saying much more.
When the door closes, I hear a suitcase hit the floor hard. I turn and see the version of Melissa no one else knows. She's sitting on the floor, gripping the suitcase tightly, trying to suppress a scream with everything she has, her eyes filled with pain.
I sit beside her, not invading her space—because I know she doesn't like that. And I wait for her to make the first move.
When the emotions finally loosen their grip and her intellect begins to surface, she speaks.
"Do you think it's stupid to love someone that much—even if it's not romantic?"
Okay, I wasn't expecting that. I thought I'd get a sleepless night full of insults and rage aimed at Zane, but instead I get this vulnerable version that makes me want to help her make sense of what's really happening.
Without answering her question with words—because she already knows—I give her a strong hug and softly ask,"Do you want to talk about what's going on with Zane?"
I watch a thousand answers flicker in her eyes. Because even though she's my best friend, she's always been hesitant to talk about matters of the heart.
But finally, she says,"This guy, Zane, confuses me. He looks at me so intensely, but he can't hold a normal conversation with me. I admit I haven't exactly crossed that barrier with him either, but I don't know… I feel like something in me scares him and intrigues him at the same time."
I stay quiet for a few seconds, processing what she just said. It's not just confusion in her voice—it's vulnerability. And coming from Melissa, that's practically a confession.
"Mel…" I begin, gently. "Zane has a girlfriend. Her name's Emma. And even though I haven't met her, I know he cares about her. He told me the first day we hung out with the group. He said it naturally, effortlessly. It's not something he's hiding."
Melissa tenses. I see it in her shoulders, in the way she grips the blanket on her lap. She doesn't say anything, but her body speaks for her. It's like part of her already knew, but didn't want to hear it out loud. Her eyes drift to the blanket, as if searching for an excuse not to face the truth.
"And still," I continue, "something in him changed when you arrived. I don't know if it's attraction, discomfort, or a mix of things even he doesn't understand. But what I do know is that Zane is a good person. Not perfect—but good. And that makes it more complicated."
"When I got here," I go on, remembering the little details about Zane, "he was one of the first to make me feel at home. He asked about my anxiety, listened without interrupting, and made me laugh when I didn't feel like it. We talked about things I don't usually share with anyone. And even though we're not close yet, there's a connection that isn't forced. It's just there."
She nods slowly, as if each word helps her rearrange something inside.
"Maybe what's happening with him doesn't need to be defined right now. Maybe you just need to let things settle. Let them breathe. And if something's still there afterward, then face it. But without rushing. Without guilt."
Melissa takes a deep breath."Okay. I promise to look at things differently. Not from impulse—but from calm."
I smile at her, and she gives me a faint but genuine smile in return. Then we start unpacking a bit, moving suitcases, folding clothes, and letting silence do its part. When the clock hits a time that no longer makes sense, I curl up beside her on the bed. We didn't say we'd sleep together—but we didn't need to. Sometimes, company isn't asked for. It's offered.
And that night, we let rest embrace us. Because after so much motion, all we truly needed was this—a shared pause.