(Michelle Lui's POV)
By the time Steven and I reached the Econ building, the winter air had teeth.
Early December always did this — crisp winds brushing past bare trees, long shadows from the afternoon sun, students wrapped in coats and scarves as if the cold were a fashion competition.
I tugged at my cream cardigan, the hem brushing the top of my plaid skirt.
Steven glanced down at me.
"You cold?"
"A little," I admitted.
His fingers twitched — I could feel it more than see it — as if he wanted to adjust my scarf for me.
He didn't.
But he also hovered strangely close, a pocket of warmth in the freezing air.
And yes, my heart noticed.
My very embarrassing teenage heart.
Whispers Before We Even Entered
The hallway outside our classroom was… loud.
Not noisy — whispery.
A strange, buzzing current of gossip that lingered in the air like static.
I recognized the tone instantly.
People weren't talking.
They were talking about someone.
Steven slowed next to me.
