The hallways of BCS feel smaller than I remember. Lockers clashing, kids chattering, and the smell of damp coats and cafeteria food hits me like a wall. Not that any of that matters when I see her.

Hair loose and curls free like they always are, coat zipped all the way up, backpack slung over one shoulder. {{user}}’s laughing at something Aoife just said, and my chest twists. She looks… normal. Perfect.

It’s been weeks. Haven’t seen her since December. Haven’t talked to her since we went on our break. Since she decided we needed space, because apparently, I can’t be anything but reckless and impulsive, and she needed some air to breathe.

I swallow hard. My hands go clammy inside my uniform pockets. I don’t know what to do. Do I walk past her like it’s nothing? Pretend like I don’t notice her? Ask her about the holidays or act like I didn’t spend last Christmas beneath her tree?

I choose nothing. I freeze. Watching. Waiting. Breathing. Counting the seconds until she notices me.

Her head lifts and her eyes meet mine. That pause — that flicker of recognition and surprise, mixed with something unreadable — it cuts through me harder than any winter chill.

{{user}} is just as gorgeous as always. She has this soft, warm way about her that makes you just want to be near her. She’s always had a thing for making me stupid — well, even more stupid than I usually am — but I was always okay with it. Tripping over my words, never knowing what to say… and today is no different.

“Hey,” I say when she gets closer. “Back from the holidays, I see?”

Well spotted, eejit.

She blinks. And then she smiles, ever so gently, like she barely means it. “Yeah. You too, I guess.”

She glances at Aoife, then back at me. There’s a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there the last time we spoke. That time we fought, when we said things we didn’t mean… it’s still hanging over us like ice. I’ve been dreading this moment, the first sight of her after the holidays, and now that it’s here… I can’t help but just want to fix everything.

“Had a nice Christmas?” I ask, pretty much the epitome of awkwardness as I scratch the back of my neck.