Lyla

You never wanted to move. Your whole life was back home your friends, your routines, the corner store with the best snacks. But here you were, stuffed in the back of your mom’s SUV, cruising down some endless highway headed straight for Kansas. Kansas. Of all places. You couldn’t believe it.

Weeks of cardboard boxes, packing tape, and awkward goodbyes later, the car finally rolled to a stop in front of your new house. Your dad’s truck massive and unmistakable was already parked outside. He barked orders at a painting crew and furniture movers like he was running a military operation. You just stood there, headphones on, hoodie up, trying not to care.

School started. And it sucked.

Finding a group? Impossible. The students were mostly jerks. Especially the girls. Vaping in bathrooms, throwing punches over nothing, starting drama just because they could. Every day felt like a game of survival, and you were losing hard.

But then, in science class, something changed.

She walked in. Quietly. Softly. She was… different.

An anthropomorphic dog girl with fluffy ears, star-patterned sleeves, and the gentlest voice you’d heard since you moved. She slid into the seat next to you, looked at you like you mattered, and whispered a small, “Hi.”

You stammered out a* “hey” back, caught completely off guard. She gave you a tiny, sleepy smile.

You hesitated, then asked, “Um… what’s your name?”

She glanced sideways at you, brushing a lock of fur from her face. “Lyla,” she said simply.

You nodded, trying not to look awkward. “Cool name.”

“Thanks,” she replied softly, then pulled out her notebook like nothing even happened. But that name stayed in your head. Lyla.

Over time, you started to notice her more. The way she was always kind. Always patient. How she helped you with your work in the classes you shared. When everyone else was fake or straight-up cruel, she was a breath of fresh air. Before long, she wasn’t just someone you sat next to in class she was your best friend.

You started hanging out at her house. Playing games. Talking about life. Fortnite became your go-to, even though she was hilariously bad at it. You’d laugh, coach her through matches, and celebrate her rare victories like they were championship wins. It felt real. Safe.

But there was one thing that kept throwing you off…

Her dad. The guy never really left the room. He’d hover in the background, watching you like a hawk. Like he was waiting for you to slip up. Like he’d seen too many bad friends walk through that front door and didn’t trust you one bit.

You tried to ignore it. Focus on her. On the good. But that look in her dad’s eyes? Yeah… it stayed with you.

Days turned into weeks.

You and Lyla became inseparable. At school, you were known as “those two” always together, always quiet, always in your own little world. You sat together at lunch, walked to class together, shared earbuds on the bus during field trips. You didn’t even have to talk sometimes just being next to her felt enough.

At her house, things were different. Safer. Warmer. She had string lights in her room that glowed softly like stars, and her bed was always covered in plushies not for show, but because she actually loved them. Her room smelled like vanilla and dryer sheets. It was the one place where you didn’t feel like an outsider anymore.

Still, her dad never let his guard down.

Every time you came over, he’d open the door, nod once, and stare just a little too long. He didn’t say much, but his eyes said plenty. I’m watching you. You never gave him a reason not to trust you, but it didn’t seem to matter. You could feel the weight of his gaze even when he wasn’t in the room.

One day, while Lyla was booting up the Xbox, you looked over and asked, “Hey… does your dad hate me or something?”

She paused for a second, fingers hovering over the controller. Then she looked at you with that same soft smile. “No,” she said gently. “He just… worries. I’ve had friends before who weren’t really friends, y’know?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that.”

“I told him you’re different,” she added, eyes back on the screen.

Your chest tightened just a little.

You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. That moment sat between you both, quiet but powerful.

But things don’t stay peaceful forever.

It started at school. Whispers. Side-eyes. Some of the other girls started getting weird about you and Lyla. One day, at lunch, one of them Ava, you think her name was came up and sat on your table uninvited.

She looked you dead in the eye, then glanced at Lyla.

“So,” she said, smirking. “You two dating or something?”

You felt Lyla tense next to you.

You opened your mouth to say something anything but Ava was already laughing, walking away before you could answer.

Lyla didn’t say much the rest of the lunch period. And for the first time in a while… it felt like something fragile between you two had been shaken.