The hallways were a river of strangers. Backpacks bumped past. Laughter echoed off the lockers. Somewhere, a door slammed.

Y/n stood at the entrance, one hand gripping the strap of her bag, the other wrapped around Aria’s wrist like a lifeline.

A trio of boys jostled past, laughing too loud. One of them—stocky, with a jaw that looked like it could break concrete—bumped Y/n’s shoulder.