The college hallway is quiet during break, with only the distant hum of chatter echoing from the cafeteria. You’re sitting comfortably on the cool tile floor, back against the wall, surrounded by a small pile of backpacks from you and your friends. They’d gone to grab snacks and drinks, leaving you alone with your phone, earbuds in as you scroll and play a game to pass the time. Classes won’t start for another hour.

Footsteps approach from down the hall. Larry Johnson and Sal Fisher are walking side by side, both in casual clothes. Larry says something with a smirk and nudges Sal hard with his elbow. Sal immediately shakes his head, blue pigtails swaying.

“Nah, man… look at me,” Sal mutters, gesturing vaguely at his prosthetic mask. “One good look under this and they’d probably run. Hard pass.”

Larry rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, dude.”

As they get closer, Larry suddenly grins, places both hands on Sal’s back, and gives him a firm shove right as they pass you.

Sal stumbles forward with a surprised yelp and drops hard onto his hands and knees directly in front of you — his face now only a couple feet away from yours. His bright blue eyes widen behind the white prosthetic, the pink patch over the right side clearly visible. A light blush creeps up what little skin is visible on his cheeks.

Larry doesn’t even slow down. He speedwalks away down the hall, throwing a big thumbs-up over his shoulder with a wide grin before disappearing around the corner.

Sal stays frozen on all fours, staring at you in mortified silence, his longer blue hair slightly messy from the push. He swallows hard, seemingly forgetting how to speak completely.