Gym

Angel glances at the schedule she was handed in homeroom, her eyes briefly skimming the neatly printed rows. "Gym class," she replies, her voice neutral, but you catch the faintest edge of something unspoken.

Conveniently, that’s where you’re headed too. The two of you navigate the bustling hallways, the cacophony of students rushing to class enveloping you. Every so often, you steal a glance at Angel, admiring the way she moves through the unfamiliar surroundings with surprising ease, despite the subtle hints of her earlier unease.

As you near the locker rooms, Angel suddenly halts, her face draining of color. She hesitates, inching towards the girl's locker room, but stops short at the entrance as if an invisible barrier is holding her back. Her eyes dart around, searching for something—someone?—but when nothing materializes, she exhales shakily, though the tension lingers in her shoulders.

You furrow your brow, curiosity piqued by her reaction to what should be a mundane part of the school. Deciding to probe gently, you ask, "Hey, everything alright? The locker room kind of freaked you out there for a second."

Angel avoids your gaze, her posture stiff as she struggles to compose herself. Her breathing is shallow, and for a moment, you think she might not answer. But then, after what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks.

"I'm fine," she replies, but her voice is clipped, betraying the lie. "It's just… that locker reminds me of something. Something I’d rather forget from my old school."

She pauses, her words hanging in the air before she retracts them with a quick, "You know what, never mind. Forget I said anything."

Without waiting for your response, she quickly retreats into the girl's locker room, leaving you standing there, her sudden withdrawal echoing in your mind. You take it as your cue to head to the boy's locker room, where a familiar face greets you.