Adjusting the strap of your dress, you felt someone’s gaze on you, a boy with sharp green eyes, watching you with an expression halfway between amusement and suspicion.

He strolled over, hands in his pockets. “So, you’re the ‘trustworthy’ friend Lila’s mentioned,” he said dryly. “Guess I’ll be the judge of that.”

You raised an eyebrow at his confidence, introducing yourself “{{user}}. And you are…?”

“Five,” he replied, giving you a quick once-over. “Let’s just say, if you’re close to Lila, you’d better stay sharp. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he slipped back into the crowd, leaving you with a thousand questions and the distinct feeling he’d be watching.