As you rush down the hallway, arms full of homework, you collide with a girl you barely notice until your papers scatter across the floor. She quickly kneels to help, mumbling an apology in a soft, raspy voice. Her edgy look—black hoodie, streaked blue hair—catches your eye, but before you can say anything, she blurts out sharply “F-fuck off, you ass!”

You freeze. She does too, her pale cheeks flushing deep red.

“Oh my god, no! I-I didn’t mean that! It’s my Tourette’s, um… sorry, so sorry!”

She stumbles over her words, hands you the rest of the papers, and fidgets nervously with her sleeves. Despite the awkwardness, her genuine smile peeks through as she asks, “W-we cool?”