Abigail spun around in her desk chair, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know what to do with herself. It wasn't like she was in a fight with Sebastian and Sam, but she didn't want to see them. She preferred to act unbothered by things, or joke about her feelings, but that didn't mean she wasn't hurt.

Sam and Sebastian were best friends. And she was, what, their second best friend? Being the odd woman out had its benefits; she could have some emotional distance when she wanted it. But occasionally, she did feel excluded.

There were no classes today. She'd already played an hour of Prairie King. Maybe she could call Penny? Or Maru? Nah, that would feel weird without the guys around.

Finally she forced herself off the chair and walked dizzily to the kitchen.

"Are you going out, honey?" her mom asked.

"I'm just going for a walk."

Her mom frowned in concern. "Well bundle up, it's Fall now."

"Mom, it's Fall 1, I think I'll be fine." Abigail grabbed a banana and escaped the kitchen.

"Don't get lost!" her mom called behind her.

When will she learn I'm an adult? Sometimes it felt like Sam's kid brother had more freedom than she did.

Without thinking, Abigail walked down to the beach. It was one of her favorite places to go, and the weather was still nice. She walked the edge of the beach, scanning the sand for anything interesting. It was a little late in the year to find rainbow shells, but it was worth a try.

Abigail kept her eyes on the ground, and when she had a handful of coral and clamshells and something kind of weird and spiral-y, she smacked right into someone.

"Oops, sorry." She lifted her head and rubbed the top of it. The man she had run into wore a long red coat with tails, and...was that an ascot? He had long hair, and she imagined that if he tied it into a low ponytail, he would look like someone out of a history textbook.

"My apologies!" he said floridly. "I did not hear you approach."

"No, it's my bad, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I see you've been doing some beach combing; a fine hobby!"

Abby laughed lightly. This dude was odd. "You're the writer, right?"

"Guilty as charged," he said with a nod of his head. "Elliott, at your service."

"Abigail." She grinned, and transferring her shells to her left arm, stuck out her hand to shake his. "I live up at the General Store. Pierre's my dad."

"Ah, I have frequented your store. Your father is an astute man of business."

"Well, he certainly thinks he is."

Elliott gestured to her shells. "Would you like a bag for your treasures? I can lend you one."

"Oh these? Nah, I probably wasn't even gonna keep them. I was just bored."

"Nonsense!" Elliott insisted. "They're beautiful! They could make someone a great gift, or you could decorate with them!" He started walking up the beach toward the weather-beaten cabin.

Abigail followed. "It's so cool you bought this house, I've always wanted to see the inside."

He paused in front of the door. "Ah, you probably wouldn't like it. It's dark and full of spiders."

That made Abigail smile. "Well it's obvious you don't know me very well yet, because my preferred design aesthetic is 'dark and full of spiders'. Although, spiders at a safe distance are preferable."

"Is that so?" Elliott brightened. "Well, don't be shy. By all means, come in, come in."

Abigail followed into the cabin. It was dim, and there were cobwebs in the corners, but it was actually quite cozy. The wooden floorboards and walls were weathered and gray, so it felt like the inside of a ship. There were a number of houseplants and a small writing desk, and a vintage looking piano.

"Do you play?" she asked excitedly.

"A little. It's nice to have a break from writing. Do you?"

Abigail shook her head. "Not piano. Flute mostly, and I play drums in a band." She tried out a short melody with one hand, missing some notes.

"Here." Elliott dusted off a canvas bag and held it open while she dumped in the shells.

She took the bag, then rummaged in it for the best piece of coral. "My first gift." She handed it to Elliott.

"Marvelous!" He looked around the room for the perfect place, then set the coral on a windowsill. "There. Perfect! Thank you very much, Abigail."

"You can just call me Abby." She couldn't help but smile at his eccentric way of speaking. "You know, you're a little odd, dude."

Elliot grinned. "Thank you. All my favorite people are a little odd."

She might agree with him on that point. "Well, this might be strange to ask someone I just met, but could I hang out with you for a bit? My friends are being weird. I'll be really quiet while you're writing." She fully expected him to say no, but she pleaded with her eyes.

He cocked his head to the side. "I suppose it might help me stay on task to have someone around. Very well. And I'm sorry to hear things aren't going well with your friends."

Abigail shrugged.

"I have a few books you could read, I suppose." He pointed them out, and she picked one up. She made herself comfortable on the ground, leaning against the side of his bed. She'd never been one to worry about being overfamiliar with people.

Abigail started to read, but the book happened to be a work of classic literature, and definitely not her taste. So she pulled out her phone and played a game on it. Meanwhile, Elliott sat at his desk scribbling furiously. Then he would hum to himself, or get up and pace the room, then sit down at the piano for a minute. He really was quite a good player; Sebastian could learn a thing or two from him. For the most part Elliott seemed to forget entirely that Abigail was there, and at one point even left to walk on the beach again, leaving her in his house.

When she finally got up to leave, he seemed startled that she was there, and then startled to see how many hours had passed.

"Bon voyage!" he called out as she left, bag of shells slung over her shoulder.

Her boring day had turned out remarkably pleasant, in the end. She spent so much time with the same people, she'd forgotten what it was like to branch out and meet someone new.

The next day, Abigail went back to the beach under the pretext of returning the bag. But she brought some of her reading for school in the hopes that Elliott would let her hang out again.

"Back again?" he asked as he opened the door.

"Yeah, your place is so cool. Like a secret hideout."

He chuckled. "I'm not sure it feels that way to me. It's just my house."

"Trust me, the only way it could be cooler is if you lived in a treehouse. Or, like, underground or something." She flopped down on his bed and pulled out a comic book, ignoring the textbooks she'd brought.

But Elliott didn't go back to his writing. "Is there something you're trying to hide out from? Would you like to talk about it?"

Abigail sighed and dropped her book beside her. Elliott was looking at her with concern, the way her mom did when she asked how her classes were going. "They didn't mean to, but...I felt sort of left out from my friends recently. Normally when my parents are on my case, I'd go hang out with them. But it feels weird now."

Elliott nodded knowingly. "Friendships can be complicated. As much as any relationship."

"No offense, but...do you have friends?"

Elliott looked startled at her bluntness, but laughed. "Yes, believe it or not, I do. I write to them often. And I've met some kind people in town, though it's not always easy when I live in so isolated a place. And you're my friend, aren't you?"

"Does it get lonely out here?"

He shrugged. "It is the life I chose. Solitude will help me focus on my writing." He caught himself and held up a hand. "Not that you aren't welcome, of course."

"So what's the book about?" she asked.

At this, Elliott looked away. "It's not very focused yet. There are elements of romance and mystery, and I have considered leaning toward science fiction." He turned back to her. "What books do you like to read?"

"Oh, I'm not really much of a reader. I mean, I like it sometimes, but I don't usually get around to it."

"Ah, I can see you are a woman of action, rather than words. I admire such people."

To her own surprise, Abigail blushed. Not just because of his implied admiration, but because he saw her as a woman. To her parents, she was still a little girl, and to Sam and Sebastian, she'd always just be one of the gang. It felt...odd, to be seen that way. To be seen how she sees herself.

"Speaking of action," Abigail said, clearing her throat and putting her smile back on. "I've just had an idea. There's a Pelican Town landmark you've probably never visited."

Elliott looked intrigued.

Abigail leaned in. "How would you like to explore some mines?"