Aleah's POV
I stood up slowly, knees stinging, pride slightly bruised. I began gathering my books and scattered papers, fingers trembling a little from more than just the fall.
Each paper I picked up felt heavier than it should — like I was piecing together more than just notes and scribbles. It felt like I was collecting the shards of a heart I'd dropped somewhere between courage and regret.
As I reached for the last notebook, a soft hand reached out at the same time.
I looked up.
She was crouched beside me, her presence calm and quietly curious. Around my age — maybe even in the same grade — though I couldn't remember ever seeing her before. Her skin was warm-toned, her eyes a deep brown that held a quiet intelligence, framed by soft lashes that blinked slowly, thoughtfully. Her hair was short, slightly curled at the ends, the kind of effortlessly cool cut that made you wonder if she woke up like that or spent an hour making it look like she didn't care.
There was something grounded about her. Like she wasn't rushing to be anyone but herself.
We finished picking up the last few sheets in silence, and then she stood, brushing off her hands.
"Hi," she said, offering a small, easy smile. "I'm Ivy."
Her voice was soft but certain — like she knew how to make space without taking too much of it.
And just like that, the hallway didn't feel so heavy anymore.