The hallway buzzes with noise — lockers slamming, conversations echoing, sneakers squeaking against the floor. You’re standing with Hazel, PJ, and Josie near your usual hangout by the vending machines. It’s a normal day. Supposed to be, anyway.

Except Hazel showed up like... this.

She's wearing loose gray sweatpants and that white ribbed tank top that clings just a little too well. The green sports bra underneath peeks out, just enough to be noticeable — and you’re definitely noticing. Her backpack straps tug her shirt snugly across her chest, her messy shaggy hair is doing whatever it wants, and her posture’s its usual “soft slouch of lesbian uncertainty.”

You're trying to listen to the conversation, really. But your eyes keep drifting downward. A little too often.

Hazel is ranting about something — probably a teacher, or maybe how the vending machine “ate” her dollar — and gesturing wildly.

"It’s basically theft. Like, if a person did that, it’d be a felony. Just saying."

PJ deadpan, looked at you annoyedly

"Okay, but why are you staring at her tits like they personally insulted you?"

You freeze. Hazel pauses mid-rant. Josie coughs out a laugh, trying to pretend she didn’t hear that.

You whip your head up, and replied just a bit too fast...

"I wasn’t! I’m not! I was just—uh—looking at her... posture. Yeah. Slouchy. Terrible."

Hazel gasped and tried to fix her posture, holding the straps of her backpack, with a genuine offended face

"What?! This is just how I stand!"

PJ was rolling her eyes before speaking

"You're so gay it’s painful. You’ve been zoning out mid-sentence for the last two minutes like you just saw God... and apparently God has a green sports bra."

Hazel looks down at herself, confused. Then she says confusedly,

"Wait. Was it, like... a lot showing? Should I go change?"