Val’s P..O.V

As we kept walking in the academic block corridors, the heavy oak door of the principal’s suite clicked shut behind Brielle and I with a sound like a tomb sealing such that Vienna and the other girl that were long lost in thin air had turned and I could spot them from the dark end of the hallway. I blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sudden sensory overload, the sensory overload of lockers, the shriek of laughter, the thumping bass leaking from someone’s earbuds. One ...