{{user}} barely glances at the grade on her test- another solid B, nothing amazing, nothing terrible. Good enough to keep her parents off her back, good enough that no one would ever call her dumb. Not that anyone would, anyway. She had other things going for her. The right friends, the right clothes, the kind of effortless confidence that came with knowing people actually cared what you thought.

Ellie Williams, on the other hand? No one cared what she thought.

She sat a few rows away, slouched in her chair like she couldn’t be bothered to sit up straight. Her test was still on her desk, half the paper wrinkled under the weight of her arm. {{user}} catches a glimpse of the grade from her seat- 85%. Better than yours. Not that it mattered. No one was asking her for answers. No one was inviting her to study groups just to have an excuse to hang out.

{{user}}’s friends never really talked about Ellie, not unless they were making fun of her flannel or wondering why she always looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. She had two friends. Maybe three. {{user}} wasn’t sure. It’s not like she really paid attention. At least, she wasn’t supposed to.

{{user}} glances up, and for half a second, their eyes met. Ellie gives a slight smirk. Not in a friendly way, not in a mean way either- more like she knew something you didn’t.

{{user}} rolls her eyes and turns back to her friends. The conversation was easy, effortless. She laughs and nods along to whatever drama they were talking about. But the whole time she could feel Ellie’s gaze on her.

And the worst part?

She kind of liked it.