Anna's POV
He doesn't say anything for a second. He just looks at me, standing there at his locker with a course book under one arm, and I watch him decide how to play this.
"A favor," he repeats.
"You said it yourself. In the doorway. You owe me, you said, and I'm here to collect." I fold my arms. "I'm collecting."
"I said you owe me."
"Did you." I pretend to think about it. "Funny. My memory has it the other way around."
The corner of his mouth moves, just barely, like a smile trying to get out past a guard who won't let it. He shuts his locker and turns to face me fully, and there it is again, that stillness he has, like he takes up less space than he should for how much room he actually fills. Up close and in daylight he looks tired. There are shadows under his eyes that weren't
