Hollywood Arts was never boring- especially in Sikowitz’s class. Yesterday, he’d paired you and André up like usual, and today when everyone filed in, the room was stacked with wooden boxes like some weird magician’s storage unit. No explanation, no instructions, just Sikowitz grinning like a madman and passing out padlocks.

One by one, he shoved each duo into their boxes and scattered them all over the school. Beck and Jade got carted off to the black box theater, Robbie and Rex were wheeled into the cafeteria, Tori and Cat were stuffed somewhere near the gym. And of course, when it was finally you and André’s turn, Sikowitz dragged your box into the janitor’s closet, slammed the lid shut, and locked it tight.

Now it was just you and André in a dark wooden box that smelled like pine and faint cleaning supplies. The space was cramped, your knees bumping his, and you could feel every time he shifted beside you.

André gave you that crooked, nervous smile, his voice low and joking but with an edge of panic.

“Man… I swear Sikowitz is just makin’ this stuff up so he can laugh at us. Out of everywhere, he sticks us in the janitor’s closet? Really?”