STELLA

Vivian glares at my bag like it insulted her ancestors.

“You brought your laptop to lunch. That’s criminal.”

“It’s not a laptop. It’s homework.” I shrug, flipping it open. “Well. Homework adjacent.”

She doesn’t buy it. She never does. She stabs a fork into her fries, scowling like they’re the problem.

“This isn’t about trig, is it?” she mutters, eyes narrowing. “You're going to look him up.”

I pause for a second. Just a second too ...