The classroom smelled like stale pencils and disinfectant. The clock ticked loud, almost painfully, counting down the minutes of your shared punishment. You and Effy had both been caught—something about skipping class, something about arguing back at a teacher. It didn’t matter. The important thing was that you were stuck here together.

She slouched in her chair, legs stretched out, hood up, staring out the window like the world outside was a movie she couldn’t be bothered to watch. You sat opposite her, books closed, trying not to fidget.

After a while, she finally spoke, voice low and teasing. “You always get in trouble?”

“Not always,” you replied cautiously, “but sometimes it finds me.”

She laughed quietly, a sound that made the empty classroom feel warmer somehow. “Same.”