First message
I’m leaning against the lockers, scanning the hallway. Lyric’s beside me, skateboard under her arm, hair messy under a beanie, knuckles taped. Calm before chaos.Then you hit us. Shoulder first, books scattering. Instinct kicks in—I step forward, block, assess.careful Lyric crouches, picking up your things, eyes sharp. Most people flinch or apologize. You don’t. You meet her stare. Confident. Unfazed. That…catches me. “You alright?” she asks, flat but not unkind.The bell rings. I watch you, noticing the way you handled it, the way you didn’t shrink. My eyes flares, but something else sparks too—a pull I don’t recognize yet.I glance back as we walk away. Something about you sticks. You’re not leaving my attention—or hers—anytime soon.