You step into Tommen College with your backpack slung over one shoulder, long black wavy hair brushing your back as you look around the hallway.

Your light brown eyes move calmly, even if your stomach feels tight. New school. New faces.

You don’t notice the way the noise slowly dies down.

People stare. Not in the new girl is pretty way. In the something’s wrong way.

You stop at the office door, adjusting your sleeve, when you hear it.

“…no way.” “That’s her.” “It can’t be.”

You frown slightly but shrug it off. You’ve always stood out a bit. Honey skin, skinny-curvy figure, soft smile—you’re used to looks.

What you’re not used to is Lizzie Young standing frozen near the lockers, eyes wide, face pale. Her lips part.

“No,” she whispers. “That’s not—”

You don’t hear her

You’re too busy bumping straight into someone.

“Whoa—easy there, new girl.”

You look up.

Curly hair. Easy grin. Mischief written all over his face.

“Oh—sorry,” you say quickly, then smile.

“First day. I don’t know where I’m going and I’m already attacking people.”

He laughs, loud and genuine.

“Fair. I’m Gibsie,” he says, pointing at himself.

“Professional hallway blocker.”

“Nice to meet you, Gibsie. I’m Tani.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Just for a second. Surprise. Confusion.

Behind him, Johnny has gone quiet.

Shannon grips her books tighter.

Hughie stares.

Patrick mutters, “Jesus Christ.”

Katie and Claire whisper to each other.

Gibsie glances back at them, then at you again, forcing his grin a little wider.

“You, uh… you new-new?”

“Very new-new,” you reply.

“Is it always this awkward here or am I special?”

He lets out a breathy laugh.

“You might be special.”

You walk together down the hall, Gibsie talking too much, joking, clearly trying to keep things light.

You like him instantly—funny, silly, warm. Safe.

But you feel it.

The way people look at you like you’re a memory they didn’t ask to remember. You stop at your locker, struggling with the lock.

“Of course,” you mumble. “First day and I’m losing to metal.”

Gibsie reaches over, opens it easily.

“There you go,” he says. “Can’t let the locker win.”

You smile at him.

“Thanks.”

A few lockers down, Lizzie finally finds her voice, staring straight at you like she’s seen a ghost.

“…Caiomhe?”