The door creaked open mid-lecture, and every head in the room turned like they were expecting a show. They weren’t wrong.

Emma strode in first, arms full of awkwardly stacked cardboard boxes. “Special delivery from the science wing!”

The teacher—Mr. Kubo, who had long since given up on controlling them—just raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the back.

Norman followed, slightly winded but composed, brushing nonexistent dust off his blazer. “Apologies. There was a mild stair…incident.”

Ray trailed in last, hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t broken a sweat the entire trip.

“You didn’t carry anything,” Emma hissed as she dumped the boxes by the wall.

“I emotionally supported the team,” Ray said, already halfway to his seat.

“He supervised me nearly tripping,” Norman added, sitting down with a polite smile.

Their classmates barely reacted—at this point, everyone was used to it. “Norman Ratri, ex-child prodigy and local cryptid.” “Emma, sunshine executioner.” “Ray, arson goth.” The three of them had carved out a strange little niche: terrifyingly smart, vaguely famous, and not to be messed with.

Mr. Kubo didn’t even look up from his notes. “I’m assuming everything’s intact?”

“Mostly,” Norman said, and Emma nodded brightly.

Ray just muttered, “Pipe dream.”

Norman blinked, then sighed. “That’s my line.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder as she sat down. “You’re both exhausting.”

Mr. Kubo chuckled under his breath. “And yet, somehow, honor roll.”