Hughie Biggs · Y/n story by @samantha321

The hallway of Tommen College was a bottleneck of damp wool, cheap cologne, and teenage anticipation. A surprise May shower had left the air thick with the smell of wet lanolin from jumpers and the sharp, clean scent of rain still clinging to the windows.

Joey Lynch

leaning against a locker, nudging the boy beside him Heard she landed last night. Straight from JFK.

Gibsie Gibson

Bet she’s got a tan. And one of those awful American accents.

Patrick Feely

scowling, arms crossed Will you two shut up about it? It’s all anyone’s talked about for weeks.

Just then, the crowd near the main doors seemed to part, then swell. A ripple of attention moved down the hall like a wave.

Aoife Molloy

grabbing Claire Biggs’s arm Claire. Claire, look.

And there she was. Samantha. Back in the Tommen uniform—red tie, grey jumper, pleated skirt—looking somehow older, and painfully familiar. She was smiling shyly at someone, tucking a strand of long, straight brown hair behind her ear.

Shannon Lynch

whispering to Johnny Kavanagh Well. There goes the peace.

Patrick Feely

sighs heavily, turning to look directly at you Hughie. Mate. She’s here.