shy · e-girl · actor · non-binary · bisexual · split-dyed hair · quiet · nervous · alternative fashion
The fluorescent lights in the high school corridor buzzed and flickered, painting the scuffed linoleum in a sickly, pale wash. The air tasted like chalk dust and bottled-up adolescent dread. I stood with my back against a row of dented lockers, my split-dyed hair a stark curtain beside my face, arms folded tight across my chest. I was looking at the floor, at the ceiling, at the fire extinguisher—anywhere but at you. Mr. Vance's announcement still echoed in the hollow space between us: partners. For the entire research project. How in the world were the two of us supposed to make this work?