The next day, Lila found him at lunch and slid into the seat across from him, her expression filled with barely contained excitement.

  “So,” she said, leaning forward. “Tell me.”

  Elias blinked. “Tell you what?”

  She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Your thoughts on the caramel macchiato, obviously. Now that you’ve had time to reflect, did it change your life?”

  “No.”

  Lila pouted. “Not even a little?”

  He considered it. “It was sweet.”

  “That’s not a feeling,” she pointed out. “That’s just an observation.”

  “What else am I supposed to say?”

  Lila sighed dramatically. “Elias, Elias, Elias. You need to learn how to experience things properly.”

  He frowned. “There’s a right way to experience something?”

  “Yes! Well—no. But also yes.” She jabbed her fork toward him. “It’s about engagement! Like, when I try something new, I pay attention to how it makes me feel. Do I love it? Do I hate it? Does it remind me of something?”

  Elias stared at her. “It reminded me of coffee.”

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  Lila groaned, flopping onto the table. “You’re impossible.”

  He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong.

  She sat up again, pointing at him. “Okay. New rule. From now on, whenever we do something from the list, you have to describe how it makes you feel. And ‘it’s fine’ doesn’t count.”

  Elias frowned. “That’s unnecessary.”

  Lila grinned. “It absolutely is.”

  He was beginning to realize that logic did not work on her.

  Before he could argue further, Lila tapped her notebook, flipping to their list. “Alright, next item! Watching a funny movie.”

  Elias glanced at the paper. “What qualifies as funny?”

  She smirked. “You’ll find out.”

  —

  That weekend, Lila dragged him to her house.

  Elias had never been inside a classmate’s home before.

  Her room was surprisingly neat. Books lined the shelves, her desk was covered in notes and doodles, and her bed had a ridiculous amount of pillows. A faint scent of citrus filled the space.

  Lila flopped onto her bed, reaching for the remote. “Okay, movie time!”

  Elias sat stiffly in the chair by her desk, watching as she scrolled through a list of films.

  She picked something called The Grand Misadventures of Benny & Lou.

  It started with two men arguing over who had eaten the last slice of pizza.

  Then, one of them tried to get revenge by switching the sugar with salt, but ended up ruining his own coffee instead.

  Lila burst into laughter.

  Elias watched silently.

  The characters got into increasingly ridiculous situations—setting off fire alarms while cooking, mistaking a neighbor’s dog for a stray, trying to fix a leaky faucet only to flood the entire apartment.

  Lila laughed at almost everything.

  Elias didn’t.

  It wasn’t that he disliked the movie. But he didn’t understand what made it funny.

  When the credits rolled, Lila stretched, looking at him expectantly. “So? What did you think?”

  “It was…eventful.”

  She sighed. “Elias.”

  He hesitated. “I didn’t dislike it.”

  “But did you find it funny?”

  “…I don’t know.”

  Lila hummed, studying him. Then she smirked. “Well, you did smirk a few times. That’s progress.”

  He frowned. “I did?”

  She nodded. “Aha! So something in there amused you, even if you didn’t realize it.”

  Elias thought back. There had been a scene where one of the characters accidentally locked himself out of his own apartment and had to climb in through the window, only to get stuck halfway.

  He supposed it had been… interesting.

  Lila grinned. “We’ll count this as a win.”

  Elias wasn’t sure what they were winning.

  But as he sat there, listening to Lila excitedly talk about her favorite parts, he found that he didn’t mind.