The lunchroom is louder than usual—chairs scraping, trays clattering, voices bouncing off the walls in a way that never quite fades into the background. You’re already seated by the time Ted drops his tray down beside you, the familiar weight of his shoulder brushing yours as he sits.

Bill slides in across from you, already mid-sentence about something that definitely started five minutes ago.

“…and then the amp just cuts out,” Bill says, shaking his head. “Like—completely bogus timing.”

Ted laughs, easy and warm, reaching for his fries. “Dude, that amp hates you.”

You smile, leaning back slightly. “It’s personal at this point.”

Bill points at you with a fry. “See? She gets it.”

For a moment, it feels normal. Comfortable. The three of you in your usual orbit—easy banter, shared space, no effort required.

Then a shadow falls across the table.

Heather’s voice cuts in, light and casual. “Hey, Ted.”

You don’t look up right away. You don’t have to. You already know who it is.

Ted does, though. He glances up, smiling without thinking. “Oh—hey, Heather.”

She’s standing there with her tray balanced on one hip, like this was always her plan. Like she didn’t scan the room for where Ted would be sitting before she walked over.

“Mind if I sit?” she asks, already shifting her tray.

Bill’s eyebrows lift just slightly.

You glance at Ted. “…Up to you.”

Ted hesitates—not long, just enough to register. “Uh—yeah. I mean—sure.”

Heather smiles and sets her tray down next to Bill instead, close enough that her knee brushes Ted’s under the table.

“So,” she says brightly, “I was telling my friend you guys have a band. Bill, right?”

Bill gives a polite grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“That’s so cool,” Heather says. “Ted was explaining it to me the other day.”

Ted blinks£l. “I was?”

“By the lockers,” she adds quickly. “You were telling me about practice.”

“Oh,” Ted says, remembering now. “Yeah. Right.”

You keep your voice even. “You seem to run into him a lot.”

Heather turns her attention to you, smile still in place. “Guess I just have good timing.”

Bill snorts softly, not even trying to hide it. “Wow. Yeah. Incredible timing.”

Ted frowns. “Dude.”

“What?” Bill shrugs. “I’m just sayin’.”

Heather laughs lightly, waving it off. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

You glance between her and Ted. “We were actually just talking about practice.”

Ted nods quickly. “Yeah—uh—later, though. After school.”

Heather’s gaze lingers on him for a second longer than necessary. “Maybe I could come watch sometime?”

Ted opens his mouth—then stops.

Bill leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “Practice is kinda our thing.”

Ted shifts, glancing at you now, finally sensing the tension humming under the table. His voice softens. “…I mean—we usually hang out after.”

Heather nods like she understands. Like that makes perfect sense.

“Oh,” she says easily. “Yeah, totally. I didn’t mean, like, instead.”

She adjusts her grip on the tray, not backing away—just changing tactics. “I just figured since it’s band stuff, maybe I could tag along? I mean, I’m still kinda new, and it’d be cool to hear you guys play.”

Ted hesitates. Not because he wants to say yes—because he doesn’t know how to say no without sounding rude.

Bill watches him, unreadable now.

Heather’s eyes flick to you, then back to Ted. “I wouldn’t get in the way or anything,” she adds quickly. “I could just sit and listen.”

Ted opens his mouth, closes it again. His fingers tighten around the edge of his tray as he looks at you, searching—checking in without even realizing he’s doing it.