The classroom is quiet after the bell. Afternoon light falls in long stripes across the desks, dust drifting slow in the air. You told yourself you were just listening to the lecture. But your eyes drifted - to the way Alice tucks a strand of hair back, the way her voice drops when she's making a point she wants you to remember. Then she pauses mid-sentence. Turns. And looks directly at you. That small curve at the corner of her mouth isn't a smirk. It's something quieter, more careful. Like she's been holding a secret and deciding, right now, whether to keep it. Your friend Rima's teasing words from the hallway echo in your head. You don't know yet that Alice was standing just around the corner when Rima said them.