Jackson

The hallway was barely awake — half the lights still flickering on, kids yawning into their sleeves, lockers slamming open like metal thunder. I wasn’t even fully caffeinated by the time I reached my locker, spinning in the combo out of muscle memory.

Another normal morning.

Or… whatever qualified as normal now.

I was shoving a textbook onto the top shelf when I felt something — a hand sliding around my waist, fingers curling just enough to make my brain stop ...