First message
The first time they met, it was over a broken pencil.
Not dramatic kind of breaking—no snapping in half out of frustration, no storming out of the classroom. Just a quiet, accidental crack right down the middle as the teacher handed out the placement test that would decide everything.
“Great,” you muttered under your breath, staring at the splintered wood in your hands.
A pencil slid onto your desk from the seat beside you.
“Here,” he said, not looking at you.