Social Modelling
Riley
Riley stood outside Declan’s front door with her hand hovering just short of the wood, the cool evening air settling against the back of her neck while her thoughts moved faster than her body did.
Inside, voices overlapped faintly through the door, uneven bursts of conversation and laughter blending together too quickly for her to isolate into anything coherent.
The sound triggered calculation. Who was already there.
Where they would likely be positioned in the room.
How the first interaction would unfold once she stepped inside.
Her fingers adjusted against the sleeve of her jacket, smoothing over fabric that didn’t need smoothing. Once, then again. The movement grounded her just enough to recognise what sat underneath it.
Nervousness. The awareness arrived a fraction later than usual, already embedded physically before she had consciously identified it.
Tightness in her chest, the restlessness beneath her skin.
Her thoughts cycling repeatedly through the same social variables despite already reaching the same conclusions each time.
Too many unknowns, too many moving parts she wouldn’t be able to fully predict until she was already inside. Riley exhaled slowly, gaze fixed on the door in front of her while her brain continued organising the environment anyway.
Five people with a varying mix of established relationships and existing dynamics she would be entering rather than initiating. The door opened before she managed to knock.
Declan stood there like he’d caught her halfway through overthinking the entire situation and had made the deliberate decision not to mention it.
“Hey, Riles.”
Riley straightened, her hand dropping from her sleeve. “Hi.”
His gaze flicked over her briefly, assessing without lingering. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, a fraction too quickly. Then, after taking a calming breath, “I’m excited to be here.”
Declan smiled, stepping out of the way to hold the door open.
“Come on in.” The shift from outside to inside was immediate.
Warmth hit her first, followed closely by noise and movement.
Tyler crossing through the kitchen. Ebony seated at the table.
Two unfamiliar figures further inside the house, partially obscured by shifting bodies and uneven light.
Riley’s shoulders drew in slightly, subtle enough to go unnoticed by most. Her focus sharpened, tracking movement, tone, positioning. Mapping the environment.
“Riley!” The voice was bright, warm, and entirely unhesitating.
Leanne crossed the room before Riley had fully oriented herself, closing the distance with an ease that didn’t ask permission. There was no pause, just immediate welcoming.
“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she said, her hands briefly resting on Riley’s arms in a gesture that was instinctive rather than intrusive. “I’m Leanne.”
Riley stilled for half a second at the contact, then adjusted, allowing it.
“Hi,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Leanne pulled back just enough to take her in properly, her expression open and kind in a way that didn’t feel forced. “We’ve heard so much about you,” she added, a smile touching her mouth.
Riley’s attention flicked instinctively toward Declan. He was watching, but not stepping in.
“We have,” Leanne continued, undeterred. “And not just from these two—” she gestured lightly toward Declan and Tyler “—but apparently the entire internet as well.”
There was humour in it, light enough not to feel intrusive, but Riley still registered the shift. Attention narrowed toward her, expectation entering the room alongside it. Her fingers curled instinctively against her palm.
“I didn’t intend for that.” She wasn’t sure whether it was a criticism or a statement.
“I didn’t think you did, darling,” Leanne replied gently. A statement, then.
A quieter presence stepped forward then, filling the space beside her without disrupting it.
“I’m Charlie,” he said, his tone steady, easy. “It’s really good to meet you, Riley.”
There was no rush in him, no pressure to perform. He simply existed there, calm and grounded in a way that softened the edges of everything else.
Riley nodded once. “You too.”
Behind them, Tyler called something out from the kitchen, Ebony responded with equal focus, and the room shifted again; movement, sound, overlapping conversation threading through the space.
Riley’s attention flickered briefly, tracking it all, her mind attempting to hold each thread at once, then a small, familiar presence appeared beside her. Ebony.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said. No hesitation, just certainty. Riley’s shoulders lowered, just slightly.
The noise in the room didn’t disappear, but it dulled at the edges, easier to filter, less intense. Riley looked at her, something shifting quietly beneath the surface, something she didn’t have a clear framework for.
“Thank you,” she said, softer than before.
Ebony nodded once, like that was enough, and reached for her hand without looking at her. Riley glanced down at the contact, then let it happen.
Tyler stood near the table, one hand resting loosely against the back of a chair, his attention flicking between Declan and Riley with a look that held more understanding than curiosity.
He didn’t approach immediately, just stayed where he was, giving her time to adjust without making it obvious that he was doing so.
“Alright,” he said lightly after a moment, tapping the chair once. “Before Mum starts interrogating people at the door, can we all sit down?”
Leanne turned to him with mild offence. “I do not interrogate.”
“You absolutely do,” Tyler replied easily. “It’s just friendly.”
A small ripple of laughter moved through the room soft and contained. The tension didn’t disappear, but it shifted, loosened enough that Riley didn’t feel that same nervousness as before.
They moved toward the table gradually. Riley followed the movement rather than leading it, her attention still tracking; who moved first, where people positioned themselves, how the space reconfigured around them.
Declan pulled out a chair without comment, not looking at her as he did it. Just… making the option available. Riley took it. Ebony remained close, still holding her hand until the last possible moment before slipping into her own seat.
Conversation picked up again as plates were passed and glasses filled, the rhythm of it steady and familiar to everyone but her. Riley listened. It was easier that way. Safer.
Her attention mapped the patterns as they emerged; Leanne filling silences before they settled too long, Charlie stepping in when conversations branched too far, Tyler redirecting when something risked becoming too pointed.
Ebony spoke when she wanted to. Tyler responded without correcting her. Declan didn’t interrupt her at all.
It was structured, just not in the way Riley was used to.
“So, Riley,” Leanne said after a few minutes, her tone warm but gentler now, less immediate. “How long have you been in Brisbane?”
Riley’s attention shifted to her, the question clear. Manageable.
“Just over eight years,” she said.
“And you’re originally from…?” Leanne asked, curious.
“A small farming town an hour outside of Melbourne.”
“Oh, that’s a big move, country to city” she said, nodding. “Do you miss it?”
Riley considered the question for a fraction of a second. “No,” she said. “There is nothing there that would warrant it.”
Tyler snorted quietly into his glass. “That’s the most psych answer I’ve ever heard.”
Leanne shot him a look. “Tyler.”
“No, I like it,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. “Clear. Efficient. No unnecessary emotion. Honestly, I might start using it.”
The corner of Declan’s mouth lifted slightly. The moment passed. Smoothed over.
Leanne smiled again, undeterred. “And what do you do? Declan’s mentioned you’re part of the research team, but I’d love to hear it from you.”
Riley nodded once, her hands settling more steadily now against the table.
“I work within behavioural analysis,” she said. “Primarily focused on pattern recognition and response adaptation in social interactions.”
Charlie hummed lightly, thoughtful rather than confused. “So you’re basically watching all of us right now and taking notes, yeah?”
There was no accusation in it, just curiosity. Riley considered that.
“Yes,” she said.
Another beat, and then Tyler let out a short laugh. “Great. Good to know I’m being assessed over dinner. Love that for me.”
“It’s not evaluative,” Riley said immediately. “It’s observational.”
“Ah,” he nodded, completely serious now. “That makes it so much better.”
Ebony glanced between them, then back to Riley. “He talks more when he’s uncomfortable.”
Tyler pointed at her without missing a beat. “See? This is why we don’t need another one of you.”
The table laughed again, softer this time, more relaxed. Riley realised she would’ve usually felt uncomfortable being labelled ‘different’, and yet she could tell Tyler meant no harm. It was a genuine joke, he was proving she belonged there.
Leanne reached for a serving dish, passing it toward Riley without breaking the flow of conversation. “And how have you found working with all of this?” she asked. “It sounds incredibly detailed.”
Riley accepted it, her movements more automatic now. “It is. But it’s becoming easier.”
Declan’s gaze flicked to her briefly at that. She noticed, and chose to meet his eyes. “
Good,” Leanne said warmly. “I’m so glad.”
Charlie nodded in quiet agreement, and Tyler reached for another plate, redirecting the conversation again before it could settle too heavily on her. “So, Dad. Are you going to tell Riley about the time Mum tried to diagnose half your police unit with diseases over dinner, or should I?”
“I did not—” Leanne started.
“You absolutely did,” Charlie cut in, entirely calm. “And you were wrong about three of them.”
“I was not wrong,” she said, though she was smiling now. The conversation shifted again, carrying on around Riley instead of pressing into her.
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