As the game wound down and the room buzzed with chatter, I found myself watching Béatrice out of the corner of my eye. She was laughing—actually laughing—with Caleb over something ridiculous Rory had said. Her usual air of dramatics seemed to have softened, replaced by a rare kind of ease. It was a little disarming, but also a relief. Maybe she wasn't planning to monopolize the day after all. Still, knowing Béatrice, the calm might only last so long. "Alright," Rory announced, standing and stretching dramatically, "I need food. Who's with me?" "Snacks downstairs," I said, pointing toward the kitchen. "Help yourselves, but don't destroy my pantry." Caleb and Rory immediately bolted out of the room, arguing about who got dibs on the last bag of chips. Xander lingered, leaning back in the beanbag with an amused smirk. Béatrice, on the other hand, stayed put, tapping her manicured nails against the controller. "Maya," she said suddenly, tilting her head at me, "why don't you ever host more things? Your room has such… character." I blinked at her, unsure if that was a compliment or some thinly veiled dig. "Uh, thanks, I guess? I don't know, I just like keeping my space kind of… quiet." Béatrice frowned slightly, like she couldn't comprehend the idea of anyone enjoying solitude. "Quiet is nice, but you could really make this place come alive, you know? I could help you. Add some flair." I laughed nervously. "I think I'm good, Béa. I like it the way it is." Xander, sensing my discomfort, chimed in smoothly. "I think Maya's room is perfect. Besides, her space, her rules, right?"
Béatrice looked like she might argue but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she shrugged and turned back to the TV, flipping through my playlists like she owned the place. "Your music taste is decent," she declared, though the teasing lilt in her voice softened the critique. "You need more French pop, though. I'll make you a playlist." I raised an eyebrow. "More French pop? Isn't one of your playlists literally called 'Béa's Dramatic Anthems'?" Xander snorted, failing to hide his laugh. Béatrice gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me, but those are classics." "Right," I said, biting back a grin. "How could I forget?" Just then, Caleb and Rory returned, carrying an assortment of snacks precariously stacked on plates. They set everything down on my desk, Caleb dramatically bowing like he'd just conquered a mountain. "Behold," Rory said, gesturing at the spread, "a feast fit for the gods." "More like a feast fit for a frat house," Béatrice said, wrinkling her nose at the mountain of chips and cookies. But she grabbed a handful anyway, tossing one into her mouth with a satisfied hum. We settled back into the comfortable chaos that defined our group. The boys argued over which movie to watch next, Béatrice critiqued the snack selection, and Xander gave me an encouraging nudge when I looked like I was about to lose my patience. Despite the occasional spike of drama that only Béatrice could bring, the day had turned out… fun. I wouldn't admit it to her just yet—her ego didn't need the boost—but having her around wasn't as terrible as I'd feared. As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the first stars began to peek through my octagonal window, Béatrice turned to me with an unexpectedly warm smile. "This wasn't so bad, was it?" she said softly, almost like she was letting her guard down. I smiled back, leaning into the warmth of the moment. "No, Béa. It wasn't bad at all." And for now, that was enough.