As I navigated the hallway jungle of Hartwell Academy between fourth and fifth period, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was probably Iris asking for dinner requests or Felix wanting to share the details of his weekend plans that I absolutely didn't need to know. I ignored it.
My feet carried me toward the library with the weary determination of someone walking to their own execution. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind helping Harlow with calculus. The kid was genuinely nice, which made her a unicorn among billionaires. But there was something about her particular brand of energy that left me feeling like I'd run a marathon while being pelted with glitter and motivational quotes.
