In Our Five-Person Group Chat, I Never Count

Jessica's POV: My landlord broke the lease and kicked me out early. It was 11 p.m., and I was locked outside my apartment door with nothing but two suitcases. I typed a message into our five-person group chat. Jessica: Can anyone let me crash at their place for tonight? No one replied. Three minutes later, Kelly Moore sent a photo of her new house keys. Kelly: Finally moved in! Everyone come to my housewarming party on Saturday! My boyfriend, Sean Peterson, popped up first. Sean: I already picked out your gift. You've been eyeing that coffee machine forever, right? The other two chimed in, one right after the other. Greg: I'll bring the booze, all on me. Misty: I'll order the flower arrangements. I typed another line and hit send. Jessica: I'm stuck in the hallway right now, I really have nowhere to go. Sean messaged me almost immediately. Sean: Can't you just book a hotel for yourself? Stop being a buzzkill in the group chat. Sean: Oh right, on your way somewhere tomorrow morning, stop by and pick up the balloons for Kelly. They're five letters that spell out her name. I plopped down on top of one of my suitcases and scrolled up through the old chat history. When Kelly moved, they brought two cars to help Kelly move. When Kelly had a cold, they took turns dropping off warm soup at her door every single day. Last year, when I had to get surgery for appendicitis? The only response I got in the group chat was a single throwaway line: "Drink more water, get some rest early." There had always been five people in this group chat. Only one of them never actually counted. I sniffled, swiping open my email app with a numb finger, then tapped accept on the message from head office asking me to serve as the onsite lead for an overseas project. No more getting left out, no more getting locked out. This time, I was walking away on my own damn terms. ***** Early Saturday morning, I'd just hit send on the confirmation email to CEO Kenneth Ashton when a new message from Sean popped up on my screen. Sean: You stayed at a hotel last night, right? You're close to Kelly's new place. Pick up the balloons and drop them off before 8:30. Don't be late. I stared at my phone, frozen. He knew perfectly well I'd been stranded in a cold hallway at 11 p.m. the night before, kicked out by my landlord, but he didn't even bother asking if I'd been cold, if I'd gotten somewhere safe. All he cared about was that I didn't mess up the schedule for Kelly's housewarming party. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. The shop clerk checked my order number, then handed me a bunch of shiny champagne gold foil balloons. "Five letters spelling KELLY, with a gold-foil greeting card tied to the bottom. Please check to confirm everything's correct." I glanced at the card: Congratulations on your new home, Kelly! Wishing you all happiness here. I slipped the card into my pocket, tightened my grip on the balloon strings, and hailed a ride to Kelly's new apartment. I pushed open the ajar front door, and there was Kelly, leaning against Sean's shoulder scrolling through her phone. "Jessica Brooks, you finally made it with the balloons!" She crinkled her eyes in a smile and reached out to grab the balloon strings. "Thanks for making the trip so early in the morning." "It was on my way." Kelly immediately stuffed the balloons right back into my palm and nodded at the high top edge of the balcony window frame. Sean didn't even bother looking up when he dismissively ordered, "Grab the ladder and hang those balloons up top on the balcony first. Don't let them get in the way when we open presents later." I hauled the ladder over and climbed up to get the job done. By the time I finished hanging the balloons and climbed back down, all three of them were huddled around the kitchen island, doting on Kelly left and right. She complained that the west-facing 17th floor got too much blinding sun in the afternoon, and Sean jotted down the window size on the spot, saying he'd send workers over that same afternoon to install motorized blackout blinds. Next, she rubbed her wrist and grumbled that she couldn't get a wine cork out. Harry snatched the corkscrew right away. "All that heavy lifting like opening bottles? I've got you covered from now on." Alexis was crouched down next to the flower bucket, trimming sharp thorns off the roses. "I'm cutting every single thorn off these. Promise you won't get pricked." The three of them were falling over themselves to wait on her, fussing over her down to the smallest detail. I stood by the dining table rubbing my aching shoulder, working up the nerve to mention my landlord evicting me the night before, the thought crossing my mind several times. "Sean, last night the landlord–" I'd barely gotten the words out when the doorbell rang. Kelly skipped over to the door giddily to sign for a same-day delivery. Sean immediately turned his attention to her and asked casually, "How's the property management downstairs? They treating you okay?" The conversation shifted smoothly before I could get another word in, and I swallowed the rest of what I wanted to say like a gulp of ice-cold water. When they took a break for snacks, Sean tapped the espresso machine on the bar counter. "Kelly, give this a try. Hope you like it." That was the exact model I'd had saved in my shopping cart for six months, the one he'd refused to buy for me, saying it was too expensive. Kelly's eyes went wide, and she clapped a hand over her mouth in delighted surprise. "Is that the one I looked at last week?" "You mentioned it twice, so I picked up the in-stock unit last night." Harry held out a temperature-controlled wine decanter to her. "It's perfect for the sweet white you like to sip before bed, holds the temperature exactly how you like it." Alexis handed over a year-long flower subscription card. "You said you liked cool-toned roses, so I booked a delivery to your door every Monday." Kelly's eyes welled up a little, and she asked, her voice wobbly with emotion. "Wait, you guys actually remember all the random little things I mentioned offhand?" Sean ruffled the top of her hair and grinned. "Anything that concerns you is our number one priority." I dropped my gaze. The old scar on my lower right abdomen throbbed dully. Last winter, I'd had a ruptured acute appendix and gone in for emergency surgery in the middle of the night. I'd posted my hospital admission slip in the group chat, and all I got back was a cold "drink more water and rest early" from Sean, a thumbs-up emoji from Harry, and a casual "we'll come visit sometime" from Alexis. But that same night, Kelly had just mentioned she was bored and wanted to listen to folk music, and all three of them drove overnight to take her to an all-night folk music festival. Just then, the smart lock installer stepped through the front door and greeted them cheerfully. "Ms. Moore, this lock can store up to five regular user fingerprints. Want me to get all of you set up now?" Kelly went first, scanning her right thumb. Sean, Harry, and Alexis followed, each adding their own, and the lock panel display lit up with the number four. Kelly lifted her left hand next, saying she wanted to save a spare fingerprint just in case. Then she turned and waved me over. "Jessica, come grab the last spot! That way all five of us are in the system, all set." I'd barely taken half a step forward when Sean stepped right in front of me, blocking my path, and told Kelly to go ahead and scan her left thumb. He snapped the lock cover shut right after. "A spare fingerprint for you will save you the trouble of fumbling for keys when your hands are full. Jessica barely comes over anyway, she can just ring the doorbell from now on." I froze where I stood, rooted to the spot. After that, they brewed coffee and popped champagne, and no one so much as mentioned adding my fingerprint to the lock again.