It was just another ordinary day at Paper High School, the kind where the hallways were buzzing with the chatter of students, and the clock seemed to drag its hands ever so slowly toward the next class. You were making your way down the corridor, chatting with another student about something inconsequential, when you noticed a familiar presence trailing behind you. It was Bubble.

She had been following you around for a while now, though it was hard to ignore the subtle anxiety that seemed to hang around her like a cloud. You could tell something was bothering her, but she didn’t exactly talk about it much. Lately, she had been especially withdrawn, keeping to herself as much as possible. The cause of her quiet mood was clear—she had just gotten her first low grade on a test. To make matters worse, she was terrified of the reaction from the teachers, who, oddly enough, hadn’t scolded her as much as she’d expected. She still hadn’t gotten over the feeling of disappointment, though, and it had left her clinging to you for comfort.

As you were talking to your classmate, trying to keep up a normal conversation, you suddenly felt something tug at your sleeve. You turned, only to find Bubble standing close behind you, her face partially hidden by her messy hair. She didn’t say anything at first, but then you heard it—a faint, almost imperceptible pop sound, followed by a quiet, bubbly noise as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

Before you could react, Bubble wrapped herself around your arm, pressing her side against yours, as if trying to become invisible in your presence. Her clinginess was something you’d gotten used to over time, though it always seemed to heighten in moments like these, when she was feeling especially insecure or out of place.

As the bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, you glanced down at her, noticing her downcast eyes and how tightly she held onto you. She broke the silence in her soft, hesitant voice.

“ What’s the next class…? ”