Roommate diary

The first few days in the apartment felt like a blur. Moving in was exhausting, but strangely exciting at the same time. Everything was new—the city, the apartment, and of course, the people I was now living with. Despite how it seemed at first, I was starting to get the sense that living with strangers might not be as bad as I'd imagined.

Sophia had already proven to be easy to talk to. She was funny, self-deprecating, and had this sharp, quick wit that made it easy to fall into comfortable conversation with her. She wasn't hard to be around, which was a relief. Her jokes about how she'd rather be in her room reading than "suffering through another attempt at adulting" had me laughing more than I'd expected.

I'd spent a lot of time unpacking in the living room, and though the place still felt like a chaotic mess of cardboard and boxes, I felt a sense of calm slowly settling over me. It was starting to feel like mine.

But it wasn't just the apartment that made everything feel different. It was the people. Like Ryan, for instance. Every time I ran into him, there was this... strange pull between us. I'd try to focus on unpacking, but I couldn't help but notice the way he'd glance my way, the way his presence would fill the room. I had to admit—he wasn't what I expected. There was this quiet confidence about him, but he kept his distance, almost like he didn't want to let anyone in.

It wasn't that I didn't like the guy. He was... interesting. But I wasn't here to start anything complicated. I had a lot to focus on—my career, getting settled, and figuring out how to live with a group of strangers.

"Hey, Emma!" Sophia called out from the kitchen. "Can you come help me with this?"

I set down the box I was organizing and made my way toward the kitchen, where Sophia was standing, holding a spoon over a bowl of pasta with a look of utter confusion. "You need help with pasta?"

"Not exactly," she replied, shaking her head. "I just realized I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean, I can cook… kind of. But this is supposed to be dinner, and I think I might have burned it." She gestured to the pan with the sad remnants of something that vaguely resembled pasta sauce.

I leaned over, inspecting the damage. "This is definitely not what I would call dinner," I said, trying to hold back a laugh.

Sophia frowned, staring down at the pan like it had betrayed her. "You're laughing, but I really thought I had it under control. Why didn't anyone tell me the stove should be set to low heat?"

I patted her on the shoulder sympathetically. "It's okay. We'll make it work. I mean, if you're not opposed to ordering in, I can totally help you out with that."

Sophia's face lit up. "Ordering in sounds like a much better plan than trying to save this," she said, tossing the burnt sauce into the sink. "You sure you're okay with it? I'm not exactly a Michelin-star chef."

"Trust me, I'm fine," I said with a smile. "Besides, who needs home-cooked meals when there's pizza?"

The idea of pizza seemed to lift Sophia's mood, and she immediately grabbed her phone to start searching for the best local places. As she was scrolling, I couldn't help but hear the faint sound of laughter coming from the living room.

Curious, I peeked around the corner to see what was going on. Ryan, Caleb, and Liam were sitting on the couch, Caleb clearly in the middle of some story that had them all laughing. I couldn't help but smile. Caleb was always the loud one, the one who could crack a joke at any moment, but it was rare to see Liam laughing so easily. Liam was a tough nut to crack, his serious and stoic demeanor often making him seem unapproachable, but here he was, leaning back and actually enjoying himself.

Caleb noticed me standing there and grinned. "Emma, come join us! We were just talking about our favorite pizza toppings."

I couldn't help but laugh at the randomness of it. "I'm in the middle of something, but what's the debate? Pineapple?"

"No way," Liam said, shaking his head. "Pineapple has no business on pizza. It's a crime against food."

Caleb gave a dramatic sigh. "Liam, you're such a purist. Sometimes, a little sweet goes well with the salty. I'm telling you, it works."

Ryan, who had been listening quietly, looked up. "I'm with Liam on this one," he said, his tone low and casual. "Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza. It's a rule."

Sophia's voice suddenly rang out from the kitchen. "Excuse me, I don't think I've ever met a group of pizza elitists like you guys. Pineapple is a perfectly acceptable topping, and I will not hear otherwise."

Her sudden declaration caused all of us to burst into laughter, even Liam, who rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin.

"See?" I said, turning to Ryan and Liam. "Sophia's got the right idea. Pineapple belongs on pizza."

Ryan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, you win. I'll take pineapple on my pizza. But I'm not happy about it."

I winked at him. "You'll survive."

As we all continued to debate pizza toppings and order dinner, the mood in the apartment felt lighter than it had since I moved in. For the first time, I felt like I was actually starting to belong here. The laughter, the little jabs, the easy camaraderie—it was the kind of thing I hadn't realized I needed.

When the pizza arrived, we sat around the living room, picking slices and teasing each other over who had the most ridiculous topping choices. Caleb, of course, was the loudest, making jokes at everyone's expense. Liam stayed mostly quiet but offered his dry commentary when the others pushed his buttons.

And then there was Ryan. Despite his usual distance, he was more relaxed tonight. His usual aloofness had been replaced by a quiet sense of belonging, like he was starting to settle in too.

I caught his eye once or twice during the evening, and each time, it felt like something unspoken passed between us. There was a tension there, but it wasn't the kind that made me uncomfortable. It was more like a question, one neither of us was ready to answer. Not yet.

As the night wore on and the laughter began to fade into the background, I found myself wishing this moment could last forever. A group of people who, for all their differences, could come together and find common ground—like the pizza debate. And maybe, just maybe, there was something between me and Ryan that was worth exploring.

But for now, I was content to just enjoy the evening. I wasn't here to rush anything, after all. And if I could survive living with four strangers, I figured I could handle whatever came next.