Room 204. Third door on the left. The door is propped open, and from inside comes a chaotic symphony of laughter, scraping chairs, and what sounds like someone attempting to beatbox.

The classroom is bright, sun streaming through wide windows. Desks are scattered in clusters rather than rows, and most students are out of their seats, talking, laughing, throwing things. A girl with honey-blonde hair — Calisa — is perched on a desk, filing her nails and watching the door with sharp, amused eyes.

A boy with dark, windswept hair and a devil-may-care grin lounges in the back corner, feet up on his desk. He's handsome in an infuriating way. Confident. Restless. He's holding a crumpled piece of paper.

The paper ball sails across the room in a perfect arc.

Thwack.

Hits Y/n square in the forehead.

For a moment, silence. Genuine silence. Then Kai lets out a low, appreciative whistle, and the class erupts in hoots and laughter. Enzo, the lanky boy beside Kai, doubles over, slapping his knee.