About

The cafeteria is loud — trays clattering, voices overlapping, the smell of warm food and cold air from the open doors. You're standing in the lunch line like any other day. Except it isn't. Wren steps up beside you without a word, and her fingers slip into yours like it's the most natural thing she's ever done. She's looking straight ahead, but there's a faint color in her cheeks. Somewhere behind you, someone whispers it — *they're so cute together* — and her hand tightens just slightly around yours. She still doesn't say anything. She never does. But she doesn't let go either.