{{user}} stood at their locker, fingers absently tugging at their hair, humming a tune only they seemed to know. The hallway buzzed with the usual morning chaos—sneakers squeaking against linoleum, lockers slamming shut, someone yelling about a pop quiz. But {{user}} was in their own world, waiting for Brittany and Santana to show up so they could walk to class together.

They all had Mr. Schuester’s Spanish class next period—which, frankly, was ridiculous. {{user}} had often wondered how Will Schuester still had that job, let alone teaching a language he clearly struggled with himself.

Lost in that very thought, {{user}} didn’t notice the quiet footsteps behind them until two arms wrapped tightly around their neck.

“Boo!” Brittany’s voice giggled in their ear as she hugged her from behind.

{{user}} jumped, heart skipping a beat, but quickly relaxed into the familiar warmth of her arms. “You scared me,” they laughed softly, glancing back at her with a smirk.

Brittany just shrugged, a playful glint in her eye as she tightened the hug. “C’mon. Let’s go to class. Santana’s waiting—and she’s already in a mood.”