The house was still when Khrisana walked through the front door that evening, a hum of silence echoing louder than anything else. Her fingers lingered on the doorknob a second too long before she let go and stepped inside. "Hey baby," her mom called from the kitchen, her voice light but curious. "How was your day?" Khrisana paused by the door, kicking off her shoes. "It was… fine." Her voice was a little too flat, too controlled. Her mom peeked around the corner, eyes narrowing slightly. "just fine?" Khrisana gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. Just… tired." It was the truth, but it wasn’t all of it. She didn’t have the words yet for everything she was feeling. Her mother stared for a second longer, then nodded slowly. "Alright. You eating anything before you head to Amara’s?" "Maybe later," Khrisana said, already heading to her room. She sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The date if that’s even what it was—was playing on repeat in her head. Shawn had been sweet in his own quiet way. He bought her food without blinking, kept offering to carry her tray, even pulled out her chair. But there was something else, something beneath it all that she hadn’t figured out how to name. Like when Jaylen cracked a loud joke and she laughed too hard, Shawn had gently nudged her knee under the table, leaned in, and said, "Maybe keep it down a little?" It wasn’t mean. It wasn’t rude. But it made her blink.

She'd glanced across the table, where Jaylen and Amara were still laughing at something, totally unbothered. They were being themselves loud, comfortable, and unapologetic. She had felt safe with them. Shawn had smiled, soft and close, but his eyes had scanned the room like he was checking who might be watching. After Amara and Jaylen left early Jaylen had a family thing, and Amara got a call from her sister Shawn had asked if he could walk her home. They didn’t talk much on the way. His hand brushed hers a few times before she let him hold it. He’d grinned like he’d won something. She didn’t know how she felt about that either. Later that night, Khrisana lay on the floor of Amara’s room, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket that smelled like lavender detergent and comfort. Amara was scrolling through her phone. Jaylen was balancing an Oreo on his nose and failing miserably. Khrisana’s phone buzzed beside her. SHAWN: Today was really cute. I liked being with you. You good? She didn't answer right away. Her thumb hovered over the screen. Then she put the phone face-down. Jaylen rolled over and pointed a cookie crumb at her. "Okay. So... that boy." Khrisana lifted an eyebrow. "What about him?" "You really went on a whole date," he teased, dragging out the word. "You were literally there," she said flatly, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him.

Jaylen caught it and smirked. "Yeah, but I mean the part after we left. You know he was acting weird, right? Like... all stiff. The man was allergic to volume." Amara chimed in, "He did seem kind of... I don’t know. Not used to people like us." Khrisana pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "He's just quiet." Jaylen made a face. "Quiet is fine. But telling you to ‘keep it down'? Nah. That’s giving controlling vibes." Khrisana didn't reply. She didn’t want to admit that same thought had crossed her mind earlier too. "You don’t gotta change for nobody," Amara said gently, nudging Khrisana’s foot with hers. "Especially not for some dude who just got here." "I'm not changing," Khrisana murmured. But even as she said it, she remembered how she’d dropped her volume at the table. How she’d straightened her back and stopped laughing so loud. The next couple of days blurred together in a comfortable haze. They stayed up late watching old Disney movies and singing off-key. Jaylen made his signature cinnamon popcorn and Amara told the same ghost story twice with new lies added each time. They painted their nails, played card games, and fell asleep mid-conversation more than once. One afternoon, Amara and Jaylen had disappeared into the kitchen to bake brownies and nearly burned the pan. Khrisana stayed behind in the living room, curled up with her sketchbook. Her phone lit up again.

SHAWN: I know your friends probably think I’m weird. But I like you. I just don't know how to be around people like them yet. I’m trying. She didn't reply. But she read the message twice. That night, as they lay in the dark, Jaylen whispered, "You know we love you, right? Like... no matter what." "I know," Khrisana whispered back. "And you don’t gotta let anyone make you small to be with them." She didn’t answer, but her heart did a slow, aching squeeze. The morning light felt softer on Friday. The sleepover was winding down. They were talking about packing up soon, and Khrisana was already dreading leaving the safe bubble they’d built. Her phone buzzed again. SHAWN: What are you doing tomorrow? SHAWN: Would love to see you again if you’re free. She stared at the message. The “tomorrow” he meant was Saturday. Tomorrow was therapy day. She hadn’t told him that. Not yet. She turned the phone over and stared at the ceiling. Then sat up and looked at herself in Amara’s mirror across the room. Her hoodie was wrinkled, her hair messy. But something in her eyes looked different. Not stronger exactly, but older. A little more weathered. Like she was learning something big and quiet at the same time. Later that day, she told Amara she’d be heading home that evening. "Therapy’s tomorrow," she explained. Amara nodded, giving her a soft hug. "Good. You always feel better after talking to Dr. Ross." Jaylen added, “And text us when you get home. Or we riot.” “I will,” Khrisana promised with a smile. That evening, when she walked through the door at home, her mom looked up from the stove. 

"Hey sweetheart," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "How was the sleepover?" "Good," Khrisana said, toeing off her sneakers. "You look... different." Khrisana tilted her head. "Different how?" Her mom studied her for a beat longer. "I don't know. Like you’ve been thinking about something big." Khrisana gave a small shrug. "Maybe I have." Her mom smiled knowingly. "Therapy tomorrow?" "Yeah." "Okay. Get some rest tonight. You want dinner?" "In a bit." Khrisana went to her room, dropped her bag, and sat in front of the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, studying the girl looking back at her. There was something uncertain in her face—but also something strong underneath it. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Dr. Ross tomorrow. Or what she’d say to Shawn. Or even what she felt yet. But she was starting to know what she didn’t want: to feel small. And that was a start.

Author’s Note 🧡

Hi everyone!

I just want to say a huge thank you for all the love and support you’ve been showing me here on TRAPS. Every read, comment, and share means so much to me—it’s what keeps me going and inspired to write more for you. If you want even more of my work, you can also read my book (and others) on Wattpad!( https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/395071392-soft-doesn%27t-mean-weak) That’s my main site where I post regularly, and I’d love for you to check it out there too. And if you want to go even further in supporting me and my writing journey, please take a look at my Patreon ( patreon.com/chrisana) Your support there helps me keep creating and bringing these stories to life and there might even be some special extras waiting for you! Thank you again for reading and for being here with me on TRAPS. I appreciate you all so much. Stay tuned for the next chapter it’s only going to get better from here!