A LONER

THE COUSIN'S VISIT (TWO)

I should have known something was off the next morning.

Daniel woke up before me, which was unusual in itself. He was the kind of person who stayed up late, talking or scrolling through his phone, and then slept until noon. But when I came downstairs, rubbing sleep from my eyes, I found him already in the kitchen, humming while making pancakes.

“Morning, cousin,” he said brightly. “Hungry?”

I blinked, surprised. “Uh… yeah. I guess.”

He slid a plate in front of me, golden pancakes stacked high. “Eat up. Big day ahead.”

“Big day?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He just grinned. “You’ll see.”

The words immediately set off alarms in my head. I hated surprises. My whole body tightened at the idea of not knowing what was coming. But I didn’t press him further, partly because I was too tired, partly because I knew Daniel well enough to understand he’d never tell me outright.

After breakfast, he disappeared for most of the day. He said something vague about running errands, and I didn’t ask questions. I stayed in my room, as usual, tinkering with another online course I’d already failed at twice. My focus was fractured, though. A part of me kept circling back to his words: Big day ahead.

By evening, I heard noises downstairs muffled voices, laughter, the clatter of dishes. My heart stopped.

Voices. Plural.

I froze in my chair, my hand gripping the desk. Who was here? Why hadn’t anyone told me?

Then came Daniel’s voice, calling from below: “Christian! Come down for a minute!”

My throat tightened. No. No, no, no. Not this. Anything but this.

But his tone was insistent, and I knew if I didn’t go down, he’d just come drag me himself. So, with legs trembling, I forced myself to stand. Each step down the staircase felt like walking toward an execution.

When I reached the bottom, the sight that met me made my stomach flip.

The living room was packed with people at least a dozen of them, mostly girls around my age, dressed nicely, chatting and laughing. Music played softly from a speaker. Snacks and drinks were spread across the table. It looked like… a party.

A party. In my house.

And I hadn’t been warned.

I felt the blood drain from my face. My palms grew slick with sweat. The room blurred at the edges as though I were underwater. Every laugh, every glance, every sound felt magnified, pressing down on me until I could hardly breathe.

Daniel spotted me and beamed. “There he is! Everyone, this is my cousin Christian!”

Heads turned. Eyes landed on me.

I wanted to vanish.

“Come on, man,” Daniel said, walking over and putting an arm around my shoulders. His touch was steady, grounding, but I still flinched. “Don’t just stand there. Meet some people.”

I shook my head quickly. “I… I can’t.”

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, steering me toward the group. “Trust me.”

I wasn’t fine. I was shaking so badly I thought my knees might buckle. My chest was tight, my breath shallow, my heart racing out of control. The chatter of the room crashed over me like waves, drowning me.

Daniel stopped in front of a girl with long dark hair and a kind smile. “Christian, this is Emily.”

She looked at me, her smile softening when she saw the panic written all over my face. “Hi,” she said gently, as though speaking to a frightened animal.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My throat closed, and heat burned up my neck. I was sure everyone could see me unraveling, the weird loner who couldn’t even say hello.

Emily didn’t push. She simply extended her hand slowly. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Nice to meet you.”

My hand trembled as I took hers, barely brushing her fingers before pulling away like I’d touched fire.

“See?” Daniel said, still smiling, though his eyes held a flicker of concern now. “Not so bad, right?”

But to me, it was unbearable. My whole body screamed to escape.

I mumbled something incoherent, turned, and bolted up the stairs, nearly tripping in my rush. Once in my room, I slammed the door shut and pressed my back against it, gasping for air.

The sounds of laughter drifted up through the floorboards, mocking me.

I’d failed. Again.

I slid to the floor, burying my face in my hands. My chest heaved, tears burning in my eyes. Why couldn’t I be normal? Why couldn’t I just talk, smile, laugh like everyone else? Why did being around people feel like suffocating?

Downstairs, the party went on without me.

But later much later there was a soft knock at my door.

“Christian?” a voice said quietly. Not Daniel’s. Emily’s.

I froze.

“I just… wanted to check if you’re okay,” she continued. “I know it’s overwhelming. I understand.”

Her words startled me. Understand? No one ever understood.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But her presence on the other side of the door, her voice soft and patient, planted a seed I couldn’t ignore.

Maybe not tonight, not tomorrow, but someday I could let someone in.

And maybe that someone was her.