The halls smelled like new beginnings and stale pizza. Lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked on the linoleum, and somewhere, a group of girls laughed like they owned the place. I navigated through the crowd, keeping my tray close, heart already racing because today was… different. Zayelle was here.
I spotted her almost immediately. She moved with this effortless grace, head held high, subtle smile, like she’d rehearsed every step for maximum impact. The popular girls clustered around her instantly, and she slid into their group as if she belonged there. And somehow, even from across the cafeteria, I could sense it
a calculated aura. She wasn’t ditching me, not really, but this… this performance, this façade, it said she had her own agenda. My chest tightened for reasons I couldn’t fully na
