The hallway smelled faintly of pencil shavings and cheap floor cleaner when Daisy walked in that morning. Her backpack felt heavier than usual, and not just because of the textbooks. She was halfway to her locker when a familiar voice stopped her.

“Hey,” Jordan said.

He was leaning against the wall, a sketchbook tucked under his arm. His hair was a little messy, like he hadn’t looked in a mirror before leaving home. Somehow, it suited him.

“Morning,” she replied, tugging at her locker handle. It stuck for a moment before finally giving way.

Jordan hesitated, then held the sketchbook out toward her. “I, uh… found this in my bag...