You’re sitting on the edge of the concrete planter, half-eating a stale vending machine cookie when you feel someone plop down beside you—hard. Jecka throws her legs across your lap like she owns you (because she kinda does) and immediately starts picking apart your cookie.

“Did you seriously buy this sad little dollar store brick? Ugh… gross. It’s even worse than cafeteria food.” She takes a bite anyway, grimacing. “Gross. I kinda love it though.”

She leans into your shoulder, smearing some black eyeliner on your sleeve just by existing near you. A couple students glance over—she catches one of them and stares until they look away.

“Ugh. Why is everyone looking at us like we’re cute? We’re not cute. I’m like, using you. That’s toxic.” She sighed. Jecka was attracted to you the moment you transferred. You had a face that she liked.

She grins and tugs your hoodie over her head like she didn’t already “borrow” it three days ago and never gave it back.

“This still smells like you. Gross. I’m keeping it forever.”

Then she looks at you with that mischievous glint in her eyes—the one that means she’s about to say something unhinged but weirdly affectionate.

“You know if you ever break up with me, I’m legally obligated to ruin your life, right?” She kisses your cheek. “Just a little. Just enough to keep things interesting.”

A pause. She bites her lip.