Chapter 17: Hallway Havoc
950 Words
The hallway between third and fourth period was a war zone.
Lockers slammed like gunfire. Someone yelled about a missing hoodie. A group of juniors argued over whether peppermint mochas counted as coffee or dessert. Normal chaos.
And then there was me.
The moment I stepped into the stream of students, the current shifted. It always did now—subtle, then immediate. Heads turned. Whispers flickered like sparks.
“That’s her.”
“Mistletoe girl.”
“I swear she’s doing it on purpose.”
I tightened my grip on my notebook and kept walking.
Jasper stayed at my side without making a big deal of it, which I appreciated more than I was willing to admit. He didn’t hover. Didn’t guide me by the elbow like I might shatter. He just… matched my pace.
“So,” he said lightly, “hallway roulette. Any predictions?”
“Don’t,” I warned.
He smiled. “Fair.”
We made it halfway down before someone stepped directly into my path.
“Hey,” the guy said, grinning. I vaguely recognized him—economics class? Maybe. “So is it true?”
I blinked. “Is what true?”
“That the hat grants wishes.”
Jasper snorted.
“I don’t grant wishes,” I said. “I just walk to class.”
The guy leaned closer. “Worth a try.”
Before I could respond, a girl behind him said loudly, “Dude, leave her alone.”
“Relax,” he said, holding up his hands. “Just curious.”
“Well, be curious over there,” she snapped, tugging him away.
I exhaled slowly.
“You okay?” Jasper asked.
“I’m developing a new allergy,” I said. “To attention.”
He chuckled. “That tracks.”
We reached my locker.
I turned the combination, hands shaking slightly—not enough to be obvious, just enough to be annoying. The locker door stuck.
Of course it did.
I tugged.
Nothing.
“I hate this locker,” I muttered.
Jasper leaned over. “Want help?”
Before I could answer, the door popped open suddenly, swinging wide—
—and smacking a passing student directly in the shoulder.
“Oh—! I’m so sorry!” I blurted.
The girl blinked at me, then laughed. “Wow. You’re really committed to the bit, huh?”
“I swear I didn’t—”
“It’s fine,” she said, rubbing her arm. “Honestly? Kind of impressive.”
Impressive. Great.
Jasper stepped smoothly between us. “You good?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Just startled.”
She walked off, shaking her head and smiling like she’d just witnessed a magic trick.
I stared into my locker. “I didn’t even trip that time.”
“I noticed,” Jasper said. “Progress.”
I shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” he admitted. “But mostly I’m impressed you haven’t screamed yet.”
“I scream internally,” I said. “Very loudly.”
A pair of girls approached, whispering fiercely.
“Excuse me,” one said. “Can we ask you something?”
I braced myself. “If it’s about the hat—”
“It is,” the other said quickly. “But not like that.”
I hesitated. “Okay?”
“Do you ever get tired of people assuming things about you?” the first asked.
The question caught me off guard.
“Yes,” I said honestly.
She nodded. “Yeah. That checks.”
They walked off before I could say anything else.
I shut my locker harder than necessary.
Jasper raised an eyebrow. “You’re becoming a philosophical case study.”
“I just wanted to pass biology,” I said. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
The bell rang.
The hallway surged.
Someone bumped into me from behind. Another brushed past too close. A guy tripped over a backpack and nearly took us all down with him.
Jasper grabbed my arm—not tight, just steady.
“You’re good,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
I nodded, swallowing.
A laugh rang out nearby.
“Careful!” someone called. “She’s a walking event!”
That one stung.
Jasper stopped walking.
“Hey,” he said, voice calm but firm. “Not cool.”
The guy shrugged. “Relax. It’s a joke.”
“Jokes are supposed to be funny to everyone,” Jasper replied. “Move.”
The guy rolled his eyes but backed off.
I stared at Jasper. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said. “Still wanted to.”
We resumed walking, slower now.
“I don’t get why you care,” I said quietly.
He glanced at me. “You don’t?”
I shook my head. “Most people just… watch.”
“Well,” he said, “watching gets boring after a while.”
That made something warm bloom in my chest. Uncomfortable. Nice.
We reached my classroom door.
I paused, hand on the handle. “This is where you leave me to face the lions.”
“I can wait,” he offered.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
I smiled despite myself. “You’re really bad at leaving, you know that?”
He grinned. “Working on it.”
As I stepped inside, a few students glanced up. Whispers followed.
But nothing happened.
No tripping. No collisions. No sudden laughter.
I sat down, heart still racing, and realized something unsettling.
The chaos hadn’t followed me in.
It was waiting.
And somehow, that felt worse.
- Writer
