The bell rang, lockers slammed, and students spilled out like they were escaping a prison sentence they paid for. You packed slow, not really in a rush, letting the chaos clear.

Ethan hovered nearby, hugging his notebook like it was emotional support.

“Hey,” he said, voice careful, like he was afraid to interrupt your peace.

You shut your locker and nodded. He always stood a little too close without realizing it, shoulders tense but eyes soft, like a kicked puppy trying not to flinch.

“You going to Calc review later?” he asked. “I… could walk with you.” He swallowed — that tiny nervous gulp he did when he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hope.