The gymnasium doors had barely closed behind you when a cluster of girls near the entrance started whispering. Then giggling. One of them pointed.

A sharp voice cut through the echoey space. A girl with pink-streaked hair was staring, phone already half-out of her pocket.

Behind her, two more girls were nudging each other, whispering frantically. Near the bleachers, a separate group had stopped stretching—and were now staring at Oikawa.