The school hallway was quieter than usual, the last echo of chattering voices fading as students went into their classrooms.
I stood at my locker, flipping through a textbook, though my mind was miles away.
Gym class had left me drained—not from physical exertion but from the emotional turmoil of watching Elvis laugh and talk with Jenny like we hadn’t spent years hating her together.
I pulled out my history book and slammed the locker door harder than I meant to.
“Kristen,” a familiar voice called from behind me.
I froze. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“I’m tired of this,” Elvis said, stepping closer. His tone was softer than usual, lacking its usual bite. “I’m tired of not talking to you. I miss my best friend.”
I shut my locker and turned to face him.
