The late February sun hung low, turning the sports field into a patchwork of long shadows and bright green turf. PE period had just begun; students milled around in their standard gray-and-navy athletic wear—shorts, hoodies, sneakers—stretching, laughing, or pretending to warm up while they gossiped. The air smelled of fresh-cut grass, sweat, and the faint citrus tang of spilled drinks.
Isla stood near the edge of the field with Lina, both of them in oversized hoodies over their gym uniforms. Lina was mid-sentence, laughing about something ridiculous their history teacher had said earlier, when Isla felt it: cold, sticky liquid pouring straight down the back of her head.
It soaked her hair in seconds—thick, pink smoothie dripping from her scalp, rolling down her neck, under her collar, a
