The girl’s smile grew. She gestured to a table near the back that had soda bottles and a cooler sitting on it. “Grab something to drink! We’re having a bit of a meet and greet slash Power Day bash.”

“Power Day,” Emily repeated. She shook her head. Of course, it was the fifteenth of September. She knew that. “Right.”

The girl switched her cup from one hand to another and extended her hand. “I’m Sam.”

Emily looked at the hand. She didn’t want to take it, but not taking it would have been rude. The pressure grew in her chest until her hand snapped out and she took Sam’s hand and shook it up and down. “Emily. I’m Emily. I, uh, need to go to my room.”

“Come back down if you want,” Sam said. “I can introduce you to everyone. Some of the boys are kinda cute.” She wiggled her eyebrows, then looked Emily up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. “Some of the girls are cute too,” she added with a wink.

“Right, right. Thank you.” Emily skittered away as if she were being chased by some monster in one of those horror movies she’d made the mistake of watching once.

She reached the elevator at the back and stepped in at the same time as a young man who tapped the IV button on the panel. “Which floor?” he asked.

Emily had to take a couple of deep breaths before she could reply. “F-five.”

He nodded, tapped the V for her floor, and much to her relief, pulled a phone out and began to stare at its screen. She caught a glimpse of some new article about Power Day and how the local police chief was going to be on the lookout for new Villains, but she averted her eyes as soon as the boy looked her way.

“So, you new here?” he asked.

Emily worked her jaw to answer, but nothing came out. By the time she had worked through the complex mathematics of social dynamics to say yes, the door dinged open and the boy left with a huff.

She swallowed again, huddled herself smaller now that no one was looking, and waited until she got to her floor.

The corridor to her room passed in a flash as she all but ran to her door, unlocked it with another swipe of her phone, and slipped into her room.

It wasn’t her room yet, not in the sense that she felt at home inside it, but it would be one day, she hoped.

Emily had convinced her dad to move up a pair of bookshelves and her favorite chair from back home, a big plush thing made of faux leather that was far too large for someone of her size. She could curl up on it, legs bent under her, and still have room to spare.