chapter 11: settling In
1222 Words
Ella's POV
I kicked off my shoes at the door and dropped my bag in the hallway.
The house was quiet in that particular Florida way I was slowly getting used to. Not uncomfortable quiet anymore. Just — still.
I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and sat on the couch pulling my phone out.
Alex answered on the second ring.
"You survived," he said immediately.
"Barely," I said.
He laughed. "That bad?"
"No actually." I tucked my legs underneath me. "It was okay. Better than okay maybe."
"Tell me everything."
So I did.
I told him about getting lost outside Building 2 and spinning in a circle with my campus map open like a tourist. He laughed so hard at that I had to move the phone away from my ear.
"It's not funny," I said.
"It's a little funny," he said.
"It was disorienting."
"You were spinning Ella."
"I was orienting—"
"Spinning."
I smiled despite myself.
I told him about Anna. About how she had appeared out of nowhere and taken charge of the situation with the easy confidence of someone who had never been lost in her life. About Jayden and the cafeteria and somehow ending up laughing over stolen chips within an hour of meeting two complete strangers.
"She sounds like a character," Alex said.
"She really is," I said. "In the best way."
"Good." His voice was warm. Genuine. "You need people there Ella."
"I know," I said quietly.
We talked a little longer after that. He told me about his day — something at the company his dad was dealing with that had kept him running around all morning. Something about contracts and a difficult client.
"Sounds exhausting," I said.
"It was," he said. "But manageable. Always is."
That was Alex. Everything was always manageable. He never catastrophised. Never panicked. Just quietly handled things and moved on.
I had always admired that about him.
"You should eat something," he said eventually. "What time does your dad get back?"
"Should be soon," I said glancing at the door.
"Go eat. Text me later."
"Okay."
"Ella."
"Yeah?"
A pause. Brief.
"I'm glad today was okay," he said simply.
I smiled.
"Me too," I said. "Goodnight Alex."
"Goodnight pumpkin."
Dad came home at half past six.
I heard his key in the door and the particular sound of his briefcase being set down — a sound so familiar it belonged to every home we had ever lived in.
"Princess?" he called.
"Kitchen!" I called back.
He appeared in the doorway still in his work shirt, tie loosened, looking tired in that good way — the way people look when they have been productively busy rather than just worn down.
"Good day?" I asked.
"Surprisingly yes," he said. A small smile. "New place. New colleagues. It felt — okay actually."
"Good," I said.
He looked at me for a moment.
"You?" he asked.
"Also okay," I said.
We smiled at each other.
Two people cautiously discovering that okay was enough for now.
"I'll cook," he said moving toward the fridge.
"We'll cook," I corrected.
He looked back at me.
Then he nodded.
"We'll cook," he agreed.
We made pasta.
Nothing complicated — just the simple tomato sauce mom used to make on weeknights when she didn't want to think too hard about dinner. Neither of us said that out loud. We didn't need to. We both just knew.
Dad chopped the tomatoes. I handled the garlic. We moved around each other in the small kitchen with the comfortable ease of two people who had been doing this together for a long time.
"Tell me about your day," he said.
So I told him. About Anna and Jayden. About getting lost. About the Marine Ecosystems lecture and the professor who clearly loved his subject more than he loved administrative paperwork.
Dad listened the way he always did — fully, asking questions at the right moments, laughing at the right parts.
"She sounds like a good person," he said about Anna. "It's good to have someone looking out for you."
"She just met me," I said.
"Sometimes that's how it works," he said simply.
He stirred the sauce quietly for a moment.
"Your mom was like that," he said. "First person she met anywhere became a friend within the hour. She couldn't help it." A small private smile. "Used to drive me crazy when we were dating. Everywhere we went she'd end up in a deep conversation with a complete stranger."
I laughed softly.
"I remember," I said.
"She would have liked Florida," he said after a moment. Quietly. More to himself than to me.
I looked at him.
He was still stirring the sauce. Eyes slightly distant.
"Yeah," I said gently. "I think she would have."
He nodded once.
We finished cooking in comfortable silence.
And ate together at the small dining table in our new Florida home.
And it felt — not like Canada. Not like before.
But like something that could eventually become its own kind of home.
Maybe.
After dinner I sat at my desk and worked through my Marine Ecosystems notes for an hour.
The work was familiar and grounding — something concrete to hold onto in the middle of all the newness. I highlighted. Made summaries. Organized my notebook the way I always did.
Somewhere around nine o'clock my eyes started losing the battle.
I closed my notebook.
Looked at mom's flower on the windowsill.
Still holding on.
"Goodnight mom," I said quietly.
Then I turned off the light and went to sleep.
The next day Anna found me before I even reached my first lecture.
She appeared at my side in the main corridor like she had been waiting — which knowing Anna she probably had been.
"Good morning," she said brightly.
"Good morning," I said.
She fell into step beside me naturally.
"So," she said after approximately four seconds of silence which was clearly her limit. "We were assigned a project together in Marine Ecosystems. Did you see the notice?"
I blinked. "Already?"
"Professor likes to start early apparently." She shrugged. "Anyway. We should work on it together. I was thinking we come to my place after our last lecture today? We can spread everything out properly and work without distractions."
I hesitated.
Her place.
We had known each other for exactly one day. Going to someone's home felt like a significant next step for a friendship that was barely twenty four hours old.
Anna must have sensed my hesitation.
"It's fine Ella," she said easily. That smile again — the one that made everything sound completely reasonable. "We have a project. We're friends. Friends work on projects together at each other's houses." A pause. "Besides my place is big. You'll have plenty of space to escape if I become too much."
I laughed despite myself.
Friends.
She said it so easily. Like it was already decided.
And maybe — I thought — it was.
"Okay," I said.
She beamed.
"Perfect. After last lecture. I'll find you."
She peeled off toward her own class leaving me standing in the corridor.
I shook my head slightly.
Anna was — something else entirely.
But I was smiling as I walked into my lecture.
And that felt like its own kind of progress.
- Writer
