Gabriella in the Library

Gabriella Borbón sat tucked into a corner of the school library, surrounded by towers of textbooks and crumpled note paper. The scent of old paper and faint lemon-scented cleaning spray, having been applied, liberally to the tables clung to the air, mixing with the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead. It was her free period, technically, but for Gabriella, there was no such thing as free time—not when midterms were looming.

She flipped through her math notes, highlighter in hand, eyes narrowed in frustration. Slopes and intercepts—again. No matter how many times she read it, the formulas danced just out of reach. She exhaled sharply through her nose and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples like she could physically push the confusion out of her head.

If she didn’t do well on these exams, her dream of college—a good college—might stay just that: a dream. She would be the first in her family to go. The pressure was always there, humming beneath her thoughts like background static. Her parents had given up so much to get here. Her mother from Ecuador, her father from Paraguay. They had crossed continents with nothing but determination, and now all of that rested on her narrow shoulders.

Her friends didn’t understand—not really.

She missed them, especially today. Dawn had begged her to come hang out at the school courtyard during lunch, and Phoebe had sent at least three selfies with goofy filters, trying to tempt her out of study mode. But Gabriella had waved them off with a **** smile. She was the youngest of the group, and she felt it. Not just in age, but in how much harder she had to work, how much more she had to prove.

Still, she loved her friends. No matter how distant she felt from them lately, she would never turn her back on her friends.

She glanced at her phone, lying screen-up beside her calculator. The group chat with Dawn and Phoebe was open, but something felt… off. Phoebe hadn’t responded since this morning. And Dawn, who could never resist sending memes or typing in all caps, didn’t seem to notice, though thinking about it, this was honestly expected.

The library was unusually still. No whispers. No footsteps. No rustling pages.

And then—

Gabriella froze in place, along with everyone else in the library.

Gabriella's hand, just inches from her phone, stopped mid-reach. Her breath halted in her chest. Her brown eyes stared forward, locked in that last moment of confusion. Every muscle, every movement—gone.

Time no longer seemed to exist.

The library remained hushed, the bookshelves casting long shadows across the tables. Gabriella Borbón sat like a statue, a girl caught between pressure and potential, her dreams on hold in the quiet stillness of an ordinary school day. At least until two figures who could move walked in, making a beeline to where the girl sat.

Mark felt a familiar thrill stir inside him as he and Katie headed deeper into the quiet library, the air cool and still around them. There, frozen in place at one of the back tables, was Gabriella Borbón.

She looked like she had been mid-thought, maybe pausing for just a second, her fingers hovering near her phone, her body leaning forward slightly, frozen in the act of studying. Her face was locked in a look of tired indifference, those dark eyes glazed over with the weight of too many formulas and not enough sleep.

Gabriella was Hispanic, though her complexion was on the fairer side. Her diamond-shaped face was framed by long brown hair that hung in soft waves, the blunt cut of her bangs resting just above her brows. She wore a white shirt layered under a fuzzy green cardigan, sleeves pushed halfway up her arms. Her ripped blue jeans hugged her lanky frame, and her black Converse were scuffed at the toes, legs crossed under the table in a casual slouch.

Compared to Phoebe, Gabriella seemed delicate, more reserved, almost like she didn’t know how to take up space. And now, completely motionless, she was like a paused thought, a quiet moment frozen in time.

Mark stepped closer, eyes scanning over her with open curiosity. “Well, hello there,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Gabriella, of course, didn’t react. She just stared forward with that bored, slightly glazed look, the faintest furrow in her brow hinting at the frustration she'd probably been feeling with her studies. Her old messenger bag, the canvas faded and worn, rested beside her chair, stuffed with notebooks and stray papers that stuck out at odd angles.

Katie leaned in behind Mark, her voice low with amusement. “She looks so serious,” she whispered. “Like she’s about to snap her pencil in half.”

Mark chuckled softly, stepping around to get a better view. He took in the way Gabriella’s posture slumped ever so slightly, the way her small hand rested limply near her open textbook.

“So, how do you do it?” Katie asked, considering she hadn’t seen him freeze Phoebe earlier.

“Gabriella, stop,” Mark said allowed, almost forcibly.

Mark's voice was calm, almost casual—but the words carried weight. As soon as they left his lips, something invisible rippled through the air like a pulse. Gabriella Borbón, who had been lost in thought just a moment before, froze. Not just in hesitation, but completely—locked in time.

“That’s it?” Katie asked.

“Yup,” Make said as he examined the frozen girl sitting before him again.

“Definitely anticlimactic. Still, I can’t argue with he results.” Katie said as she made a knocking motion on Gabriella's head. Gabriella did not respond, and could not. All her thoughts, worries, dreams—everything that made her Gabriella, had faded like the last light of day. In her place sat a hollowed figure, still and obedient.

Mark gently slid Gabriella back in the chair, adjusting her stiff arms as if posing a mannequin. He tilted her frame backward, careful not to jostle her too hard, until Katie reached around and gripped her under the arms. Her hands slipped beneath the soft material of Gabriella’s cardigan, cool and compliant. With a nod, Mark crouched and took hold of the girl’s ankles, lifting her as though she were nothing more than a life-sized doll.

Together, they moved with quiet precision, guiding Gabriella’s body between the library tables and out through the double doors. The halls were silent—eerily so—and they knew they were safe. With time frozen, the school’s cameras were down, so there was no risk of getting caught.

They didn’t speak as they made their way to the row of lockers near the science wing, the thud of their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. When they reached Katie’s locker, they paused, considering the logistics. Gabriella was taller than Phoebe, less compact—posing a bit of a challenge.

Still frozen, the girl was slowly folded into a tight curl, her knees tucked to her chest. Mark braced her as Katie swung the locker door open. Gabriella’s head bent awkwardly forward as they stuffed her into the confined space, her soft brown hair brushing against the metal interior. Her expression didn’t change—still wearing that vacant, mildly irritated look from earlier, as though none of this were happening.

With a final shove, Gabriella was fully inside. Her body made a soft thud as it settled, her forehead gently resting against the top panel.

Katie closed the locker door with a final thud.