Chapter 93 Communication theory

Chapter 93 Communication theory
The moment we stepped back into the apartment, I immediately understood why Maya looked traumatized.
Ethan was standing on top of Charlotte’s coffee table.
Actually standing.
Shoes on furniture.
Criminal behavior.
“I’m telling you,” he said dramatically while pointing at three random people sitting cross-legged on the carpet, “relationships fail because you people communicate too much.”
Everybody stared.
Even the music seemed to hesitate.
A girl with pink hair blinked slowly. “Too much communication?”
“Yes.” Ethan nodded like he was defending a thesis at Harvard. “Mystery is important. Distance builds character.”
Maya folded her arms. “Coming from the guy that got dumped?”
“Mutual breakup,” he corrected instantly.
“After crying for days,” she added.
“Fake news,” he said, far too quickly.
Charlotte rubbed her forehead like she was trying to physically erase the situation. “I leave for five minutes and this happens.”
Klaus leaned slightly toward me. “I think Harvard made him worse.”
“I didn’t think that was possible,” I whispered back.
Ethan continued pacing on the coffee table like it was a stage. “One text per day maximum. That’s the rule. Anything more is emotional dependency.”
A random guy on the floor raised his hand. “What if it’s important?”
Ethan pointed at him like a disappointed professor. “Then suffer.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. The tension from earlier in the day—the hospital heaviness, the quiet emotional bruises we were all pretending weren’t there—started loosening at the edges.
Klaus looked lighter too. Not fixed. Not suddenly okay. Just… less weighed down.
Which honestly felt like enough for tonight.
Charlotte finally moved decisively, walking over and grabbing Ethan by the ankle. “Down. Before you damage expensive furniture and my will to live.”
He let himself be pulled down with exaggerated dignity. “You’re all afraid of my truth.”
“We’re afraid of your insurance bill,” she replied.
The music shifted lower, softer, like the room itself was trying to recover.
“Game time,” Charlotte announced.
A collective groan filled the space.
“Relax,” she added. “Truth or drink.”
Maya’s entire face lit up immediately.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
People reorganized themselves into a rough circle across the living room. Someone dimmed the lights. Drinks appeared like magic. Snacks were passed around. Ethan somehow acquired another slice of pizza, despite already having eaten enough for a small country.
Life resumed its chaotic normal.
Charlotte pointed at Jay first. “Truth or drink.”
“Truth.”
She smiled in a way that suggested no mercy. “When did you realize you liked me?”
A wave of groans exploded around the room.
Jay didn’t even hesitate. “First time you yelled at me.”
Charlotte blinked. “That’s… not romantic.”
“It is to me,” he said simply.
She looked weirdly satisfied anyway. That made it worse.
The game spiraled quickly after that.
Someone admitted to failing chemistry twice and blaming “academic oppression.” Another confessed to accidentally dating two roommates at the same time for three weeks before realizing they were roommates. One guy revealed he got matching tattoos with an ex after knowing her for exactly twenty-one days.
The room reacted like it was watching a disaster documentary.
Terrifying. Fascinating. Impossible to look away from.
Then Maya turned toward me.
I felt it before she even spoke.
“Tessa.”
No.
“Truth.”
She grinned like she had been waiting all night.
“What’s your first impression of Klaus?”
Klaus immediately straightened beside me, suddenly very invested in his own history.
Traitor.
I sighed dramatically, buying time I didn’t have.
“I thought he was too pretty to speak to normal people.”
The room erupted in laughter.
Klaus pressed a hand to his chest. “That’s insulting.”
“It’s accurate,” Maya said.
“And?” she pushed.
I tilted my head, pretending to think harder. “And I thought he looked like he listened to sad playlists while staring out windows like his life was an indie film.”
Klaus scoffed. “I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
He didn’t even argue further. Which was suspicious in itself.
Maya leaned back, satisfied like she’d just collected valuable intelligence.
Klaus didn’t let me escape unscathed.
“Truth or drink,” Ethan said next, clearly enjoying the chaos he had helped create.
Klaus didn’t hesitate. “Truth.”
Ethan grinned. “What’s your biggest fear?”
The room shifted slightly. Even the noise softened.
Klaus glanced around, then briefly at me—so fast I almost thought I imagined it.
Then he said, quietly, “Being left behind.”
The words landed heavier than the music, heavier than the laughter that had been filling the room moments earlier.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
Not because I didn’t already know pieces of it.
But because hearing it said so plainly made it real in a way that couldn’t be joked away.
Maya noticed my face instantly. Of course she did. She kicked my leg lightly under the table.
Focus.
Right.
Fun night.
Not spiral night.
I nodded slightly like I was fine. Like my brain wasn’t suddenly replaying every quiet moment Klaus had ever gone silent at the wrong time.
The game continued, but something had shifted. Not in a bad way exactly—just in a way that made everything feel more honest underneath the laughter.
Hours passed too quickly after that.
People danced again, more loosely now. Someone knocked over a cup and Charlotte nearly combusted on the spot. Ethan tried to “save it” by declaring it a symbolic sacrifice to the floor gods.
Nobody listened.
Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a slow tide.
By midnight, everyone had collapsed into couches, carpets, and any available horizontal surface. The apartment looked like a battlefield that had somehow ended in peace.
“This is weird,” Maya said suddenly from the floor.
“What is?” I asked.
“We’re becoming adults.”
Ethan gasped dramatically. “Don’t say scary things out loud.”
She ignored him. “We’re literally leaving soon. Like… real life soon.”
Nobody joked immediately.
The silence wasn’t heavy. Just… thoughtful.
Charlotte eventually broke it with a small smile. “We should do something.”
“Like what?” someone asked.
“A final thing,” she said.
Maya sat up immediately. “Oh my God.”
Klaus groaned on instinct. “No.”
“Yes,” Maya insisted.
“A bucket list thing,” Charlotte added, already getting excited.
“A final summer challenge,” Ethan agreed, sitting up like this was the most important idea ever spoken in human history.
I looked around the room.
At people who were loud and messy and confusing and somehow already stitched into my life in ways I hadn’t expected.
Maybe it was hospitals. Maybe it was auditions. Maybe it was almost losing people and realizing how fast everything could change.
Or maybe it was just the terrifying reality of growing up.
But suddenly, I didn’t want nights like this to end.
Maya pointed directly at me.
“You’re making the list.”
I frowned. “Why me?”
“Because your lists always cause chaos,” she said immediately.
Fair.
Painfully fair.
Klaus nodded once. “She’s right.”
“Traitor,” I muttered.
Charlotte tossed a pillow at me. “Do it. Make it legendary.”
Ethan leaned in. “Make it illegal, preferably.”
I stared at all of them—this ridiculous, loud, exhausting group of people who somehow felt like a temporary home I hadn’t known I needed.