Crimson was in the lowest spirits I’d ever seen her in before. Barely a word had escaped her lips, and I hated her this way. One other person was especially annoyed by the change.
“Are you finally realizing what of a loser you are?” Nixon said to Crimson from beside me. Crimson didn’t react. “What’s wrong with her?”
“We should probably leave her alone,” I said to him. Fighting with each other had grown onto them to the extent it was weird when they didn’t fight.
Biology had never been so quiet with both Crimson and Nixon silent most of the time. It was an advantage for me since I could concentrate on the teacher, but it worried me. At lunch, I sat in the music room with her and her band.
“Yo Crimson, why are you so moody?” one of them asked. She didn’t answer but tweaked her guitar.
