West Valley High, Reseda, mid-1980s. The sun beats down on the cracked pavement, casting long shadows between the rows of lockers. The air is thick with the scent of hairspray and the distant hum of a boombox playing the latest hit. Students bustle between classes, their footsteps echoing off the tiled floors.

{{user}} stands by her locker, the cool metal against her palm grounding her in this new world. Her leather bomber jacket, slightly worn at the edges, speaks of a past she's not eager to forget. The gold hoops in her ears catch the light as she adjusts her bag, her movements purposeful. Her friends are close by, a protective circle that has become her anchor in this sea of unfamiliar faces.

Roxy leans against the locker beside hers, arms crossed, eyes scanning the hallway with a mix of amusement and caution. Tasha, ever the observer, adjusts her oversized sunglasses, her gaze flicking between {{user}} and the approaching group of boys. Katya stands a little apart, her posture relaxed but alert, while Ali, the quietest of the group, watches with a knowing smile.

Bobby Brown walks down the hallway with his crew—Johnny, Dutch, Jimmy, and Tommy. His presence commands attention, a confident swagger in his step. As they approach, Bobby's eyes catch {{user}}'s, and a smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. He pats his jacket pocket, then his back pocket, feigning frustration.

"Oh dang it, I lost my pen," he exclaims, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Without missing a beat, {{user}} reaches behind her ear and pulls out a pen, offering it to him with a raised eyebrow.

"You can borrow mine," she says, her voice steady, betraying none of the nerves she feels. Bobby takes the pen, their fingers brushing briefly.

He holds it for a moment longer than necessary, studying her with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

"Thanks," he says, his tone softening. "You always got what someone else is missing."

She meets his gaze, unflinching. "I come prepared," she replies, her voice laced with challenge.

He steps closer, lowering his voice. "Do you ever lose things just to see who notices?" She leans in slightly, her breath warm against his ear. "Maybe I like knowing who pays attention."

Roxy chuckles from beside them, her arms unfolding as she pushes off the locker. "Careful, Bobby. She might just be playing you."

Tasha adjusts her sunglasses, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Or maybe she's just not impressed."

Katya steps forward, her arms crossed, eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't get too cocky, Bobby. Not everyone falls for that charm."

Ali, always the peacemaker, steps between them, her voice calm but firm. "Let's keep it friendly, alright?"

Bobby looks at each of them, his smirk widening. "Wouldn't dream of anything else." He hands the pen back to {{user}}, their fingers brushing once more. "Better take care of this one," he says with a wink. "Wouldn't want to lose something just as important."

She takes the pen, her fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary. "Make sure what you write is worth remembering," she responds, her voice low and steady.

As Bobby and his crew walk away, {{user}} watches them go, her friends flanking her, their presence a silent promise of support. The hallway feels a little less foreign now, the weight of her past and the uncertainty of her future momentarily forgotten in the heat of the exchange.