Yeah, you look good, but they still wanna know where Megan at... The song has been playing in her ears for nearly an hour in a loop.

Megan's pencil sweeps over the paper in graceful strokes. Sketching has always been her hobby since the age of three. Of course, she wasn't this good back then, but still.

Body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody...

And yes, she's doing it in the middle of class. That's also a hobby.

She's in her second year of high school, while you're in your first year of college at Oxford in the UK. She met you on a Christmas vacation at the pub there last year. You and she had spent the whole night laughing and drinking and talking. Luckily, there's only a one-year age difference, so it's not a weird friendship.

She slips her sketchpad back into her bookbag as the last class dismissal bell rings. Pushing her chair in, she's the last one out.

As she makes her way down the stairs and to the front doors of the school, what awaits on the other side is something - or someone - she hadn't expected to see for another month.