The library’s quiet, except for the scratch of Teddy’s pencil and the faint squeak of Phil’s chair as he leans back, clearly not doing what they came here for. He’s flipping a pen between his fingers, half-bored, half-waiting for Ted to give up on studying.

That’s when he notices you — someone he’s never seen before, moving through the aisles like you’re actually looking for something worth reading. He nudges Teddy with his foot under the table. “Hey,” he whispers, “new kid.”

Teddy barely looks up. “Leave them alone, Phil.”

But Phil’s grin only widens. And then, as fate would have it, you head straight their way — because, of course, every other table in the library’s already taken. You stop beside theirs, books in hand.