Kaylee led them through town like she was giving a tour she'd never been paid for.
"Okay, that's the post office," she said, pointing at a squat building with a flag out front. "That's the hardware store where old men go to argue. That's the diner where Ruth judges your soul. That's the grocery store where you will definitely run into your teacher while buying something embarrassing."
Sol walked with his hands in his jacket pockets, shoulders loose, letting the cold air wake him up again. The sun was already dropping, turning the edges of the pines gold. Cedar Ridge felt like it went from afternoon to evening in a single breath.
Noelle kept pace at his side, calm as always, tote bag tucked close. Sierra walked half a step behind, scanning without looking like she was scanning. Bri stayed near Sierra, beanie low, braid over her shoulder, cardigan hugged tight around her like she was still getting used to being outside in cold air on purpose.
Sol glanced at Kaylee. "How far is this place?"
Kaylee spun around mid-walk and walked backwards like she was immune to tripping. "Far enough that you'll appreciate it. Close enough that you can't complain."
Sierra said, dry, "He's going to complain."
Sol didn't deny it. "I'm from Texas. It's tradition."
Kaylee grinned. "See? He is funny."
Noelle's eyes flicked to Sol. "He's observant. That's different."
Kaylee gasped like she'd been betrayed. "Noelle. Let me have this."
They crossed the street in a small wave of students. A couple trucks rolled past slow, drivers lifting fingers off the steering wheel in a casual hello that made Sol feel like he'd accidentally wandered into a movie about wholesome small towns.
He hated how much it worked.
The "cocoa place" turned out to be a small shop tucked beside a bookstore that looked like it smelled like paper and secrets. The sign above the door read:
PINE & PASTRY
A little bell jingled when they walked in, and warm air wrapped around Sol's face like a blanket. The shop smelled like espresso, cinnamon, and something buttery. Soft music played from a speaker behind the counter—old enough that it sounded like someone's mom had approved the playlist.
There were only a handful of tables. Some had board games stacked in the corner. A chalkboard menu listed coffee, teas, pastries, and—underlined twice—HOT CHOCOLATE (HOUSE RECIPE).
Kaylee inhaled like she'd entered a temple. "This," she said, reverent, "is where we heal."
A woman behind the counter looked up and smiled. She was in her twenties or early thirties, hair in a messy bun, wearing a flannel shirt and an apron dusted with flour like she'd been fighting pastries all day.
"Kaylee," she said warmly. "You're back."
Kaylee spread her arms. "Tess, my angel, we require cocoa. And a new person blessing."
Tess's eyes moved to Sol with quick, friendly curiosity. "New person?"
Sol nodded. "Sol. Solomon."
Tess smiled like she approved of both names. "Welcome, Sol."
Kaylee leaned in like she was sharing a secret with the room. "He's from Texas."
Tess's eyebrows rose. "That explains the denim."
Sol stared down at his jacket like it had betrayed him again. "It's just a jacket."
Tess laughed softly. "Relax. We're nice here. What can I get you?"
Kaylee answered immediately. "Five house cocos, extra whip. Also something chocolate. And something cinnamon. And something—"
Noelle cut in, calm but firm. "Kaylee."
Kaylee pouted. "Fine. One pastry each. Maximum."
Sierra murmured, "You said that like you meant it."
Kaylee pointed at Sierra. "I did. Briefly."
They claimed a table near the window. Kaylee dropped into her chair like she'd been holding in energy all day and finally got permission to release it. Sierra sat with her back angled so she could see the door without looking obvious. Noelle took out her notebook without even thinking about it. Bri sat carefully, hands wrapped around her sleeves, looking around the shop like she wasn't sure she belonged in a place that felt this cozy.
Sol sat down last and felt the heat sink into his bones.
For a moment, he just listened. The low murmur of other customers. The hiss of the espresso machine. The soft clink of mugs being set down behind the counter.
No constant buzzing phone.
No stream of noise trying to claim his attention.
Just… people.
Kaylee leaned forward, eyes bright. "Okay. First-day debrief. How traumatized are you?"
Sol blinked. "I survived."
Kaylee nodded seriously. "That's huge."
Noelle glanced at him. "How was auto shop?"
Sol hesitated. "Honestly? It was… fine."
Sierra's eyebrow lifted. "Fine?"
Sol shrugged. "I didn't break anything."
Kaylee made a sound of mock disappointment. "Boring."
Sol leaned back. "I met someone."
All three girls' attention shifted like a spotlight.
Kaylee's voice went delighted. "A girl?"
Sol frowned. "I met a person."
Kaylee grinned wider. "That's not a denial."
Noelle's expression stayed composed, but her eyes sharpened with interest. Sierra's gaze flicked over Sol like she was checking for changes. Bri's eyes lifted, curious, then dipped again when she realized she was being perceived.
Sol continued, because if he didn't, Kaylee would invent the story anyway. "Her name's Maren. She's in auto shop. She… knows things."
Sierra nodded once. "Maren Holt?"
Sol blinked. "You know her?"
Sierra's tone stayed neutral. "Everybody knows everybody."
Kaylee leaned in. "Maren is ranch royalty. Also, she could probably lift you."
Sol stared at her. "Why is that your first comment?"
Kaylee shrugged. "Because it's funny."
Noelle said, matter-of-fact, "Maren doesn't date."
Sol glanced at her. "How do you know that?"
Noelle's eyes didn't leave her notebook. "It's… known."
Kaylee nodded like a wise elder. "She has responsibilities. Ranch stuff. Siblings. Actual life."
Sierra added, quieter, "She doesn't have time for nonsense."
Sol nodded slowly. That tracks.
Tess came over with a tray. Five mugs that steamed like they were alive, topped with whipped cream so thick it looked like snowdrifts. She set them down one by one.
"House cocoa," she announced. "Don't burn your mouth. I don't want to hear about it."
Kaylee saluted her with two fingers. "Yes, ma'am."
Tess's eyes flicked to Sol again. "You doing okay?"
Sol nodded. "Yeah. It's… a lot, but yeah."
Tess smiled. "It's always a lot at first." Then she pointed at Kaylee. "If she bullies you, tell me."
Kaylee's jaw dropped. "I am a gentle presence."
Tess walked away laughing.
Sol wrapped his hands around the mug and felt heat seep into his palms. He took a careful sip.
The cocoa was thick and rich, not overly sweet, with a hint of cinnamon that hit after the chocolate. It tasted like winter without being cruel about it.
Sol exhaled softly. "Okay."
Kaylee leaned forward. "Right? Tell him, Noelle."
Noelle took a sip, then nodded like she was confirming a math proof. "It's good."
Sierra took one sip and didn't react much, but she held the mug a little closer afterward, which said enough.
Bri took a sip and her eyes widened slightly. She didn't say anything, but her shoulders relaxed in a way Sol recognized: comfort finding a crack to slip through.
Kaylee watched Bri with a pleased smile, then turned back to Sol like she couldn't help herself. "So. New kid. Texas kid. Calm kid. What's your deal?"
Sol stared at her. "My deal?"
"You're… not loud," Kaylee said, waving her hand vaguely. "Like, at all. Even when Braden tries to poke you, you just look at him like he's a mosquito."
Sierra's gaze sharpened at Braden's name. Noelle's pen paused. Bri's fingers tightened around her mug for a moment.
Sol kept his voice even. "My dad taught me not to feed people like that."
Kaylee nodded thoughtfully. "So you were raised correctly. Nice."
Noelle asked quietly, "Did you know him before?"
Sol shook his head. "No. He's just… bored."
Sierra's tone turned flat. "He's bored and he likes control."
Sol nodded. "Yeah."
A brief silence settled—comfortable, but heavy with shared understanding. In a bigger place, Braden would've been one loud kid among many. Here, he had room to be a problem.
Kaylee broke the quiet like she was allergic to seriousness. "Okay, new topic. Dating."
Sol nearly coughed on his cocoa. "What?"
Kaylee grinned, unrepentant. "I'm conducting research."
Noelle sighed, already tired. "Kaylee."
Kaylee held up both hands. "Fine, fine. Not dating. But like—relationships. You had one in Texas?"
Sol shook his head. "No."
Kaylee's eyes went bright. "OHHHH."
Sol frowned. "What is that reaction?"
"It means you're perfect," Kaylee said, like it was obvious.
Sierra narrowed her eyes. "Kaylee."
Kaylee corrected quickly, "Perfect for Cedar Ridge."
Noelle's gaze flicked to Sol. "Why not?"
Sol shrugged, honest. "I don't know. Never really… happened. I trained a lot. Helped my dad sometimes. School. Stuff."
Kaylee nodded like she approved of his answer, then immediately turned the spotlight on the table like she was hosting a talk show.
"Okay, my turn," she declared. "I also have not dated."
Sol blinked. "Really?"
Kaylee put a hand on her chest dramatically. "Yes. I am a delicate flower."
Noelle's voice was dry. "A loud flower."
Kaylee ignored her. "Cedar Ridge dating is… weaponized. If you date someone and it goes bad, you have to see their grandma in the grocery store for the rest of your life. And she will remember."
Sol stared. "That's terrifying."
Kaylee nodded, grave. "Exactly."
Noelle spoke next, like it was just a fact on a resume. "I haven't dated either. I don't have time."
Kaylee waved her mug at her. "Scholarship robot."
Noelle didn't deny it. "College costs money."
Sol glanced at Noelle and saw the truth under her calm—pressure, responsibility, a kind of quiet fear she kept organized into bullet points.
Sierra set her mug down and leaned back slightly. "I haven't dated."
Kaylee opened her mouth.
Sierra cut her off with one look. Kaylee closed her mouth again like it had been remotely controlled.
Sierra's voice stayed blunt. "People don't ask you out because they like you. They ask you out because they like what it looks like."
Sol's brows knit. "That sucks."
Sierra shrugged like she'd already processed it a long time ago. "It's whatever. I'm not interested in being somebody's trophy."
Sol nodded slowly, respect settling in his chest.
Bri was quiet, hands still around her mug. She looked like she was trying to decide if she should speak at all.
Kaylee nudged her gently with an elbow. "Bri?"
Bri's cheeks warmed. Her voice came out small but steady. "I haven't… either."
Sol looked at her, keeping his expression neutral so she wouldn't feel pressured.
Bri swallowed. "My parents are…" she searched for the word. "Strict. Not like—mean. Just… protective."
Noelle's eyes softened slightly.
Bri continued, gaze down at her cocoa. "And I'm not good at… people. I don't know what to do. So I just… don't."
Kaylee's voice softened for once. "You're doing it right now."
Bri blinked, surprised. "What?"
"People," Kaylee said, gently. "You're doing people."
Bri's mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Okay."
Sol felt something warm in his chest that had nothing to do with cocoa.
This wasn't a harem. It wasn't even romance yet.
It was a table of girls who trusted each other enough to tell the truth out loud.
And somehow, they were letting him sit in it.
Kaylee leaned back with a satisfied sigh like she'd completed a ritual. "Great. We're all emotionally unavailable for unique and valid reasons."
Noelle corrected, "We're emotionally responsible."
Kaylee pointed at her. "That too."
Sierra glanced at Sol. "So what now?"
Sol blinked. "What do you mean?"
Sierra's tone was neutral, but her eyes were sharp. "You're here. Town's watching. Braden's watching. People already think things."
Kaylee grinned. "Oh, they absolutely think things."
Noelle's pen resumed moving. "Let them."
Bri's fingers tightened around her mug again, and Sol caught it—how the idea of people thinking things made her nervous.
Sol set his own mug down slowly. "I don't want any of you getting dragged into something because I'm new."
Sierra's gaze held his. "Too late."
Kaylee nodded like it was obvious. "We already adopted you."
Sol stared at her. "That's not—"
"It's exactly that," Kaylee said, bright again. "Also, you stood up to Braden without making it a spectacle. That's rare."
Noelle added quietly, "That matters."
Bri nodded once, tiny.
Sol didn't know what to say to that, so he went with the simplest truth. "I just don't like bullies."
Sierra's eyes softened a fraction. "Yeah."
The bell over the door jingled again, and a gust of cold air slid in. A couple older men entered, stamping snowless boots like it was habit. One of them waved at Tess. Tess waved back.
Community.
Sol looked out the window at the street—small, quiet, already dimming into evening—and felt the oddest thing: not homesickness, exactly, but a sense of being… held. Like the town had hands on him, not gentle, not rough. Just there.
Kaylee finished her cocoa in record time, then stared at Sol like she'd just remembered a mission.
"Oh!" she said. "I almost forgot."
Sol narrowed his eyes. "That's never good."
Kaylee pulled something from her bag and slid it across the table.
A folded paper. Handwritten. A list.
Sol opened it and read:
CEDAR RIDGE GROUP ACTIVITIES THAT DO NOT INVOLVE BRADEN
1. bonfire by the lake (bring blankets)
2. board games here
3. diner (Ruth permitting)
4. study nights (Noelle's rules)
5. hiking (Sierra will bully you into cardio)
6. "movie night" (if we can find a DVD that isn't ancient)
Sol stared at it. "You planned this."
Kaylee smiled sweetly. "I am an organizer."
Noelle murmured, "A menace."
Kaylee ignored her and leaned toward Sol, voice lowering like she was suddenly serious again. "You don't have signal here, Texas. Not really."
Sol nodded slowly.
Kaylee tapped the list. "So we do this instead."
For a second, Sol didn't have a joke. He didn't have a deadpan comeback. He just felt something in his throat that he swallowed down quickly.
He nodded once. "Okay."
Kaylee's grin returned immediately, like seriousness had been a brief glitch. "Great! Welcome to your new life."
Sierra stood up, stretching. "We should go before it gets colder."
Noelle gathered her notebook. Bri hugged her mug a second longer like she didn't want to let go of warmth, then stood too.
They walked out together, the bell jingling behind them, cold air hitting their faces again like a reminder.
Sol shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced down at his phone out of habit.
One bar.
No signal.
He looked up at the four girls beside him instead—Kaylee talking, Noelle listening, Sierra scanning, Bri staying close—and felt his chest ease.
Maybe this was what Cedar Ridge did.
It took away the noise.
Then it dared you to build something real in the quiet.