Jessa

By the time I walked through the front doors of the school, I’d already braced myself.

Not for anything specific — just for the usual background noise of being seen. The glances that lasted a second too long. The smiles that didn’t quite reach people’s eyes. The way conversations dipped when I passed.

I told myself I was imagining it.

I usually was.

Mariah was at my side, talking about something random — a quiz she hadn’t studied for, a TikTok she’d stayed up ...