Chapter 1
~Jude~
Monday.
It was the morning of my first time in years attending public school, and my stomach twisted like I was strapped to a roller coaster I never agreed to ride. I exhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feeling that kept me still. I turned on the shower—one that I'd already sanitized more times than I could count.
As the water rushed out, my mind drifted back to the memory I hated most, like I was reliving that moment all over again.
I was ten, floating in what felt like an endless abyss of water.—
It was dark.
Cold and heavy.
In reality, it was just the deep end of a swimming pool, but my brain refused to let it be anything less terrifying. I had ignored Mom, telling to not swim past the shallow line. I did anyway. But one minute I was kicking confidently, and the next I was sinking—cold water filled my lungs as pressure crushed my chest. When they pulled me out, fighting for air, I swore I'd never go near a body of water again.
"This isn't that," I whispered to myself checking the temperature before stepping in.
—--------
Later, Mom turned the keys and the engine hummed.
"You ready, love?" she asked.
"I... think so."
My voice didn't sound convincing.
When the car slowed to the curb, my chest tightened. Kids crowded the sidewalk—laughing, brushing against each other, grabbing door handles without thinking about who had touched them last. My skin crawled just watching.
I froze, my hand hovering just before the doorknob of the car.
Mom noticed. "Here," she said gently, pulling a pair of gloves from the armrest. "So you won't have to keep washing your hands every so often. They'll dry up".
I slid them on and thanked her. "Have a great first day," she said. Her voice soft against all the noise in my head and the crowd of people filing in.
I stepped out and walked carefully toward the entrance, keeping my distance from everyone. Even with gloves, I didn't want to touch anything. A girl held the door open enough for me to slip through. Inside, a woman approached me with a light smile.
"Welcome, Jude. I'm Mrs. Lovat, your guidance counselor. I'll be showing you around."
I followed her down the hallway, staying a few feet behind. Voices filled the halls as students hurried to class.
"This will be your homeroom," she said, gesturing to the door. "You'll start and end your day here." "Thank you," I said quietly.
She opened the door, and the teacher stood up from his desk. "Class, we have a new student today." he announced, motioning me forward.
Heat rose up my neck as I stepped inside. I felt my body stiffen.
"Welcome to Mid-City High. I'm Mr. Bennett. Why don't you introduce yourself?"
I swallowed.
"Hello... My name is Jude. Jude Everett."
A student coughed in the front row, and I flinched, taking a subtle step backward.
"How old are you, Jude?" Mr. Bennett asked softly.
"Fifteen."
"When you're ready, you can take a seat next to Hayden," he said, pointing to an empty desk in the back row by the window.
I held my arms against my chest as I walked down the aisle. Students stared—curious, confused, maybe judging. When I reached my desk, the urge to sanitize it hit hard. I glanced over at Mr. Bennett.
"You're good," he reassured me. "I sanitized it before your arrival."
I nodded and sat down, trying to ignore the prickling feeling of people's eyes on me. Some stared openly. Some stole quick glances.
Art class came next, and the moment I walked in, my stomach dipped again. The desks were shared—three students to a table. I stayed still for a moment, debating whether to look for an empty corner or just stand awkwardly until a girl waved me over.
“Are you Jude?" she asked.
I nodded.
"You're with us," she said. pointing to an empty spot.
Before sitting, I picked up some disinfectant wipes from a nearby supply container and sanitized my spot thoroughly. The three students at the table exchanged looks—not mocking, just confused.
"You should be fine," the girl said gently. "class has already been sanitized."
"Yeah, and why the gloves?" a boy added. "You're in art class."
"I just... like being extra clean," I muttered.
"Can I have one?" the girl asked.
"Uh... sure."
She sanitized her spot too.
"You can never be too clean."
She smiled softly.
"I'm Stella. This is Carson and Daniel."
The two gave small waves.
Daniel, on my left, was pale-skinned with dark hair and quiet brown eyes. Carson, who stood leaning on our table also had pale skin, brown curls and hazel eyes. Stella sat on my right–fair skin, a peachy undertone and long black hair that went past her shoulders.
When she spoke, there was a soft Korean cadence underneath it.
__________
By the time lunch rolled by, my nerves were burned out. The cafeteria was out of the question–
the crowd alone made my skin crawl. So I went back to the homeroom and hovered at the door.
"Is everything alright?" Mr. Bennett asked, looking up from a pile of papers.
"I don't feel comfortable in the cafeteria."
"That's okay. You can eat in here if you like"
He grabbed wipes from his desk and cleaned off my table again. I unpacked my lunch quietly.
"Mr. Bennett?" I said, after a moment.
He looked over.
"Yes?"
I thanked him.
"Sorry if I can be too much."
"No need to apologize, my nephew is the same way. There's nothing wrong with being cautious."
That made something in me loosen a little.
—-------------
Geometry was the last period of the day.
The room was quieter than the rest of the school—but not silent.
Pages turning, chairs shifting.
The low hum of whispers that never fully stopped.
I chose a desk near the back, close to the wall.
Fewer directions for people to come from.
I wiped down the surface before sitting, quick and careful, then placed my things down in neat positions. Notebook. Pencil. Sanitizer.
Everything where I could see it. Around me, students partnered up for work.
I worked quietly with my partner in the back. Though not used to working with someone else.
We both didn't say much, only speaking occasionally to help each other on a question.
"That's him, right?" Someone whispered a few desks over.
"Yeah, the new kid."
"The one who always wears gloves?"
I tightened my grip on my pencil slightly.
"He's kinda... strange."
There was a pause.
Then—
"That's rude," another voice cut in, quieter but firmer. "You don't even know him."
"So? I'm just saying."
"Yeah, and you sound stupid saying it."
Silence followed that.
Not long.
But long enough.
I didn't look up.
But I felt it—
That shift in the air.
After a moment, I risked a glance.
Just slightly.
Not enough to be obvious.
A boy a few rows ahead had turned back around in his seat, leaning forward like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn't just said anything at all.
For a second—
our eyes met.
Then I dropped my gaze back on my work.
And didn't think much of it afterward.
The bell rang and everyone handed in their work before leaving the room.
I waited a second longer than most before standing.
When I looked again, he was already gone. I wasn't even sure why I looked.
—----
"How was your day?" Mom asked as I slid into the passenger seat.
I buckled my seatbelt slowly. "Can we just go home?"
She didn't push, just nodded and pulled away from the curb.
"I already sanitized your room," she said softly.
"You'll have a clean workspace to do your homework."
I looked out the window as the neighborhoods and shops blurred by in soft streaks of colors.
The second day felt different—not easier, just familiar.
I still wore the gloves. Still kept my distance.
Still watched everything like it could go wrong at any second.
But at least now I knew where I was going.
The hallway noise hit me again as soon as I stepped inside—lockers slamming, voices overlapping, shoes squeaking against the floor. I moved along the edge like I had the day before, careful not to brush against anyone.
It mostly worked.
Homeroom was quieter than yesterday, or maybe I was just getting used to it.
I sat in my seat and placed my bag down gently, making sure it didn't touch the floor more than it had to. Hayden gave me a small nod. I returned it, just barely.
Classes blurred together after that.
Notes.
Voices.
People laughing at things I didn't hear the setup to.
By the time I got to my locker between classes, I paused again.
The handle.
Same as yesterday.
Same feeling.
I reached into my shoulder bag, pulling out a wipe and cleaning it quickly before opening it.
"Do you always do that?"
My hand froze.
I turned slightly.
A boy stood a few lockers down, leaning back against his.
Not close enough to feel crowded. Not far enough to ignore him.
I didn't answer right away.
"I—uh..." I looked back at the handle, "Yeah."
He nodded like that made sense, no weird look. No laugh.
Just... a nod.
"I think they clean them," he added.
There was a pause.
Not awkward.
Just there.
"Still... I guess it doesn't hurt," he said.
I glanced at him for a second.
Then nodded.
"Right," I mumbled.
The bell rang.
I shut my locker quickly, stepping back into the hallway flow.
As I passed him, I heard—
"See you."
I didn't mean to respond.
"...Yeah."
The rest of the day passed the same way.
Careful.
Quiet.
Distant.
But that moment—
It stayed with me longer than I expected.
________
Wednesday:
By the third day, my body started memorizing things before I could think about them.
Which hallway to take.
Which corners to avoid when the crowd got too tight.
How long I could go without washing my hands before the feeling became too much.
It didn't mean I was comfortable.
Just... less lost.
I noticed things more now.
Like how loud the cafeteria got even from down the hall.
How certain groups always stood in the same places.
Who moved through the halls like they owned them—
and who didn't.
I also noticed him again.
Same locker, same spot.
He was there like he didn't have anywhere urgent to be.
He looked up for a second as I approached.
Not staring.
Just... noticing.
I looked away first.
Already reaching for a wipe.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
I cleaned the handle.
I opened it and grabbed what I needed.
I could feel it.
That quiet awareness.
Like he was there—but not pushing into my space.
"...Morning," he said.
Soft, casual.
Like it wasn't a big deal.
I hesitated.
Then—
"Morning."
That was it. No conversation. No pressure. Just a word. But somehow—
it felt louder than everything else in the hallway.
Later that day.
It was free time in gym class, sneakers squeaked against the polished floors, as I watched a game of basketball. Others played four squares. Others sat in groups chatting.
I stayed on the bleachers, spectating .
Far enough to not get pulled into anything.
Close enough that no one would question it.
A basketball hit the floor a few feet away.
I flinched slightly before catching myself.
"Yo—sorry."
I looked up.
A boy jogged over, grabbing the ball with one hand. He had an easy energy about him—like everything he did came naturally. He was also the one who spoke up in geometry class.
He didn't immediately leave.
He glanced at me. Then at the empty space on the bleachers beside me.
"You want to play?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"No thanks."
"Fair," he said, nodding.
He dropped down onto the bleacher—leaving a bit of space between us.
Not too close.
Just enough.
"I'm Dante," he said, resting his forearms on his knees. "You're new here, right?"
I hesitated.
"Jude."
"Yeah, I heard," he said casually. "You're in my geometry class."
"I am."
He grinned slightly. "Back row. Window side. You don't really talk."
I looked down at my hands.
"That obvious?"
"A little," he said, but there was no edge to it. "Not in a bad way though."
Someone shouted for the ball.
Dante leaned back slightly, spinning it once on his finger before letting it rest against his leg.
"You always sit out?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Respect," he nodded. "Everyone's got their thing."
A small pause settled between us.
Not uncomfortable.
Just... quiet.
Then—
"You any good at anything else?" he asked. "Like—not this," he motioned toward the court.
"...Art," I said quietly.
His eyebrows lifted a little.
"Yeah, what kind?"
"Any kind."
"That's cool," he said. "I can't draw for the life of me, only stick figures, that's all."
I almost smiled.
"Dante" someone called.
"Dante! You in or what?" someone else pitched in.
He stood up, grabbing the ball.
"Yeah, yeah—I'm coming," he called back before glancing down at me again.
"I'll catch you later, Jude."
He didn't wait for a response.
Just jogged back onto the court like the conversation had been the most normal thing in the world.
The bell rang, echoing through the gym as students immediately started toward the locker rooms.
I adjusted the strap of my bag, already planning on leaving before the hallways became too crowded.
"Yo, Jude."
I looked up to see Dante jogging over, the handle of his bat poking through the unzipped part of his bag.
"You survived gym," he said with a grin as the final bell rang ending the school day.
"Barely "
He laughed softly as he walked alongside me. "You should think about joining a sport or something."
I blinked at him. "A sport?"
"Yeah. Basketball, Baseball, track—anything really. Might make school less boring."
"That's not really my thing," I muttered.
Dante studied me for a second like he was trying to figure something out.
"Doesn't have to be your thing " he said. "Sometimes you just try stuff."
I looked away, tightening my grip on my bag strap.
Trying things had never exactly gone well for me.
Dante seemed to notice the shift in my expression because he backed off with an easy shrug.
"Just give it a thought."
Then he headed toward the parking lot, bat slung over his shoulder.
I watched him go for a second before turning toward Mom's car.
The ride home was quiet.
Not the uncomfortable kind.
Just quiet.
When we pulled into the driveway, Mom glanced over at me.
"Better day?" she asked.
I thought about it.
The crowded hallways.
The locker.
The boy who kept saying good morning.
Sharing a wipe with Stella.
Dante talked to me like I wasn't strange.
I looked down at my gloved hands.
"...Maybe."
A small smile crossed Mom's face.
She didn't say anything after that.
Later that night, I sat at my desk, finishing homework beneath the soft glow of my lamp.
School still felt loud.
Complicated.
Too close.
But when I thought about going back tomorrow, my chest didn't tighten the way it had three days ago.
Not as much, anyway.
For the first time since stepping through those doors—
I wasn't completely dreading it.Monday.
It was the morning of my first time in years attending public school, and my stomach twisted like I was strapped to a roller coaster I never agreed to ride. I exhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feeling that kept me still. I turned on the shower—one that I'd already sanitized more times than I could count.
As the water rushed out, my mind drifted back to the memory I hated most, like I was reliving that moment all over again.
I was ten, floating in what felt like an endless abyss of water.—
It was dark.
Cold and heavy.
In reality, it was just the deep end of a swimming pool, but my brain refused to let it be anything less terrifying. I had ignored Mom, telling to not swim past the shallow line. I did anyway. But one minute I was kicking confidently, and the next I was sinking—cold water filled my lungs as pressure crushed my chest. When they pulled me out, fighting for air, I swore I'd never go near a body of water again.
"This isn't that," I whispered to myself checking the temperature before stepping in.
—--------
Later, Mom turned the keys and the engine hummed.
"You ready, love?" she asked.
"I... think so."
My voice didn't sound convincing.
When the car slowed to the curb, my chest tightened. Kids crowded the sidewalk—laughing, brushing against each other, grabbing door handles without thinking about who had touched them last. My skin crawled just watching.
I froze, my hand hovering just before the doorknob of the car.
Mom noticed. "Here," she said gently, pulling a pair of gloves from the armrest. "So you won't have to keep washing your hands every so often. They'll dry up".
I slid them on and thanked her. "Have a great first day," she said. Her voice soft against all the noise in my head and the crowd of people filing in.
I stepped out and walked carefully toward the entrance, keeping my distance from everyone. Even with gloves, I didn't want to touch anything. A girl held the door open enough for me to slip through. Inside, a woman approached me with a light smile.
"Welcome, Jude. I'm Mrs. Lovat, your guidance counselor. I'll be showing you around."
I followed her down the hallway, staying a few feet behind. Voices filled the halls as students hurried to class.
"This will be your homeroom," she said, gesturing to the door. "You'll start and end your day here." "Thank you," I said quietly.
She opened the door, and the teacher stood up from his desk. "Class, we have a new student today." he announced, motioning me forward.
Heat rose up my neck as I stepped inside. I felt my body stiffen.
"Welcome to Mid-City High. I'm Mr. Bennett. Why don't you introduce yourself?"
I swallowed.
"Hello... My name is Jude. Jude Everett."
A student coughed in the front row, and I flinched, taking a subtle step backward.
"How old are you, Jude?" Mr. Bennett asked softly.
"Fifteen."
"When you're ready, you can take a seat next to Hayden," he said, pointing to an empty desk in the back row by the window.
I held my arms against my chest as I walked down the aisle. Students stared—curious, confused, maybe judging. When I reached my desk, the urge to sanitize it hit hard. I glanced over at Mr. Bennett.
"You're good," he reassured me. "I sanitized it before your arrival."
I nodded and sat down, trying to ignore the prickling feeling of people's eyes on me. Some stared openly. Some stole quick glances.
Art class came next, and the moment I walked in, my stomach dipped again. The desks were shared—three students to a table. I stayed still for a moment, debating whether to look for an empty corner or just stand awkwardly until a girl waved me over.
"Are you Jude?" she asked.
I nodded.
“You're with us," she said. pointing to an empty spot.
Before sitting, I picked up some disinfectant wipes from a nearby supply container and sanitized my spot thoroughly. The three students at the table exchanged looks—not mocking, just confused.
"You should be fine," the girl said gently. "class has already been sanitized."
"Yeah, and why the gloves?" a boy added. "You're in art class."
"I just... like being extra clean," I muttered.
"Can I have one?" the girl asked.
"Uh... sure."
She sanitized her spot too.
"You can never be too clean."
She smiled softly.
"I'm Stella. This is Carson and Daniel."
The two gave small waves.
Daniel, on my left, was pale-skinned with dark hair and quiet brown eyes. Carson, who stood leaning on our table also had pale skin, brown curls and hazel eyes. Stella sat on my right–fair skin, a peachy undertone and long black hair that went past her shoulders.
When she spoke, there was a soft Korean cadence underneath it.
__________
By the time lunch rolled by, my nerves were burned out. The cafeteria was out of the question–
the crowd alone made my skin crawl. So I went back to the homeroom and hovered at the door.
"Is everything alright?" Mr. Bennett asked, looking up from a pile of papers.
"I don't feel comfortable in the cafeteria."
"That's okay. You can eat in here if you like"
He grabbed wipes from his desk and cleaned off my table again. I unpacked my lunch quietly.
"Mr. Bennett?" I said, after a moment.
He looked over.
"Yes?"
I thanked him.
"Sorry if I can be too much."
"No need to apologize, my nephew is the same way. There's nothing wrong with being cautious."
That made something in me loosen a little.
—-------------
Geometry was the last period of the day.
The room was quieter than the rest of the school—but not silent.
Pages turning, chairs shifting.
The low hum of whispers that never fully stopped.
I chose a desk near the back, close to the wall.
Fewer directions for people to come from.
I wiped down the surface before sitting, quick and careful, then placed my things down in neat positions. Notebook. Pencil. Sanitizer.
Everything where I could see it. Around me, students partnered up for work.
I worked quietly with my partner in the back. Though not used to working with someone else.
We both didn't say much, only speaking occasionally to help each other on a question.
"That's him, right?" Someone whispered a few desks over.
"Yeah, the new kid."
"The one who always wears gloves?"
I tightened my grip on my pencil slightly.
"He's kinda... strange."
There was a pause.
Then—
"That's rude," another voice cut in, quieter but firmer. "You don't even know him."
"So? I'm just saying."
"Yeah, and you sound stupid saying it."
Silence followed that.
Not long.
But long enough.
I didn't look up.
But I felt it—
That shift in the air.
After a moment, I risked a glance.
Just slightly.
Not enough to be obvious.
A boy a few rows ahead had turned back around in his seat, leaning forward like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn't just said anything at all.
For a second—
our eyes met.
Then I dropped my gaze back on my work.
And didn't think much of it afterward.
The bell rang and everyone handed in their work before leaving the room.
I waited a second longer than most before standing.
When I looked again, he was already gone. I wasn't even sure why I looked.
—----
"How was your day?" Mom asked as I slid into the passenger seat.
I buckled my seatbelt slowly. "Can we just go home?"
She didn't push, just nodded and pulled away from the curb.
"I already sanitized your room," she said softly.
"You'll have a clean workspace to do your homework."
I looked out the window as the neighborhoods and shops blurred by in soft streaks of colors.
The second day felt different—not easier, just familiar.
I still wore the gloves. Still kept my distance.
Still watched everything like it could go wrong at any second.
But at least now I knew where I was going.
The hallway noise hit me again as soon as I stepped inside—lockers slamming, voices overlapping, shoes squeaking against the floor. I moved along the edge like I had the day before, careful not to brush against anyone.
It mostly worked.
Homeroom was quieter than yesterday, or maybe I was just getting used to it.
I sat in my seat and placed my bag down gently, making sure it didn't touch the floor more than it had to. Hayden gave me a small nod. I returned it, just barely.
Classes blurred together after that.
Notes.
Voices.
People laughing at things I didn't hear the setup to.
By the time I got to my locker between classes, I paused again.
The handle.
Same as yesterday.
Same feeling.
I reached into my shoulder bag, pulling out a wipe and cleaning it quickly before opening it.
"Do you always do that?"
My hand froze.
I turned slightly.
A boy stood a few lockers down, leaning back against his.
Not close enough to feel crowded. Not far enough to ignore him.
I didn't answer right away.
"I—uh..." I looked back at the handle, "Yeah."
He nodded like that made sense, no weird look. No laugh.
Just... a nod.
"I think they clean them," he added.
There was a pause.
Not awkward.
Just there.
"Still... I guess it doesn't hurt," he said.
I glanced at him for a second.
Then nodded.
"Right," I mumbled.
The bell rang.
I shut my locker quickly, stepping back into the hallway flow.
As I passed him, I heard—
"See you."
I didn't mean to respond.
"...Yeah."
The rest of the day passed the same way.
Careful.
Quiet.
Distant.
But that moment—
It stayed with me longer than I expected.
________
Wednesday:
By the third day, my body started memorizing things before I could think about them.
Which hallway to take.
Which corners to avoid when the crowd got too tight.
How long I could go without washing my hands before the feeling became too much.
It didn't mean I was comfortable.
Just... less lost.
I noticed things more now.
Like how loud the cafeteria got even from down the hall.
How certain groups always stood in the same places.
Who moved through the halls like they owned them—
and who didn't.
also noticed him again.
Same locker, same spot.
He was there like he didn't have anywhere urgent to be.
He looked up for a second as I approached.
Not staring.
Just... noticing.
I looked away first.
Already reaching for a wipe.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
I cleaned the handle.
I opened it and grabbed what I needed.
I could feel it.
That quiet awareness.
Like he was there—but not pushing into my space.
"...Morning," he said.
Soft, casual.
Like it wasn't a big deal.
I hesitated.
Then—
"Morning."
That was it. No conversation. No pressure. Just a word. But somehow—
it felt louder than everything else in the hallway.
Later that day.
It was free time in gym class, sneakers squeaked against the polished floors, as I watched a game of basketball. Others played four squares. Others sat in groups chatting.
I stayed on the bleachers, spectating .
Far enough to not get pulled into anything.
Close enough that no one would question it.
A basketball hit the floor a few feet away.
I flinched slightly before catching myself.
"Yo—sorry."
I looked up.
A boy jogged over, grabbing the ball with one hand. He had an easy energy about him—like everything he did came naturally. He was also the one who spoke up in geometry class.
He didn't immediately leave.
He glanced at me. Then at the empty space on the bleachers beside me.
"You want to play?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"No thanks."
"Fair," he said, nodding.
He dropped down onto the bleacher—leaving a bit of space between us.
Not too close.
Just enough.
"I'm Dante," he said, resting his forearms on his knees. "You're new here, right?"
I hesitated.
"Jude."
"Yeah, I heard," he said casually. "You're in my geometry class."
"I am."
He grinned slightly. "Back row. Window side. You don't talk much."
I looked down at my hands.
"That obvious?"
"A little," he said, but there was no edge to it. "Not in a bad way though."
Someone shouted for the ball.
Dante leaned back slightly, spinning it once on his finger before letting it rest against his leg.
"You always sit out?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Respect," he nodded. "Everyone's got their thing."
A small pause settled between us.
Not uncomfortable.
Just... quiet.
Then—
"You any good at anything else?" he asked. "Like—not this," he motioned toward the court.
"...Art," I said quietly.
His eyebrows lifted a little.
"Yeah, what form?"
"Any form."
"That's cool," he said. "I can't draw for the life of me, only stick figures, that's all."
I almost smiled.
"Dante" someone called.
"Dante! You in or what?" someone else pitched in.
He stood up, grabbing the ball.
"Yeah, yeah—I'm coming," he called back before glancing down at me again.
"I'll catch you later, Jude."
He didn't wait for a response.
Just jogged back onto the court like the conversation had been the most normal thing in the world.
The bell rang, echoing through the gym as students immediately started toward the locker rooms.
I adjusted the strap of my bag, already planning on leaving before the hallways became too crowded.
"Yo, Jude."
I looked up to see Dante jogging over, the handle of a bat poking through the unzipped part of his bag.
"You survived gym," he said with a grin as the final bell rang ending the school day.
"Barely "
He laughed softly as he walked alongside me. "You should think about joining a sport or something."
I blinked at him. "A sport?"
"Yeah. Basketball, Baseball, track—anything really. Might make school less boring."
"That's not really my thing," I muttered.
Dante studied me for a second like he was trying to figure something out.
"Doesn't have to be your thing already," he said. "Sometimes you just try stuff."
I looked away, tightening my grip on my bag strap.
Trying things had never exactly gone well for me.
Dante seemed to notice the shift in my expression because he backed off with an easy shrug.
"Just give it a thought."
Then he headed toward the parking lot, bat slung over his shoulder.
I watched him go for a second before turning toward Mom's car.
The ride home was quiet.
Not the uncomfortable kind.
Just quiet.
When we pulled into the driveway, Mom glanced over at me.
"Better day?" she asked.
I thought about it.
The crowded hallways.
The locker.
The boy who kept saying good morning.
Sharing a wipe with Stella.
Dante talked to me like I wasn't strange.
I looked down at my gloved hands.
"...Maybe."
A small smile crossed Mom's face.
She didn't say anything after that.
Later that night, I sat at my desk, finishing homework beneath the soft glow of my lamp.
School still felt loud.
Complicated.
Too close.
But when I thought about going back tomorrow, my chest didn't tighten the way it had three days ago.
Not as much, anyway.
For the first time since stepping through those doors—
I wasn't completely dreading it.
