Tommy Hagan leaned against his locker, arms crossed as he watched the hallway buzz with activity. His eyes flicked toward her, and he rolled them with a sigh before finally stepping over. He stood in front of her, that familiar mix of irritation and fondness dancing in his expression. Clearing his throat, he spoke up with mock drama.

“You know I could’ve died waiting for you? What were you doing—smoking behind the trash cans?”

The smirk on his face gave him away. He was exaggerating, obviously. He let the sarcasm drop for just a second as his voice softened.

“I missed you.”