Exam week isn't super stressful, and Salem does pretty well due to all his studying. Salem spends the following weekend just relaxing, and he doesn't have any contact with Atlas, Catrine,
or Jordan the entire time. On the last exam day, he receives his schedule for next semester. He is currently on a call with Zona as they compare.

"Wait, you're in proficient art?" Zona asks, and Salem replies with a hum of affirmation. She continues, "what period?"

"Last." Salem replies, and next thing he knows he's receiving an incoming video call. It's from Zona, and he answers immediately. He begins his routine of propping up his phone, but she's quickly bossing him round. "Okay, we have that one together. Just turn the camera and show me a picture. It'd be easier."

Salem does as requested, and he watches as Zona leans towards the camera. She's unnecessarily close to it as she studies the schedule that he's trying to keep still. "I think that's our only class together."

Salem sighs. He usually has at least one class with Zona per semester, but it sucks when that's it. Salem can already tell that the second half of his senior year is going to be unbelievably boring. He can't help but feel a bit bummed out, hoping that he will have a few with Cam and Milo. That doesn't happen often, though, since Salem takes higher level classes than them.

"That sucks." Salem says, and Zona nods in agreement. She pulls away from the camera, so that Salem can actually see her entire face. Conversation dies after that, and Salem ends up falling asleep while on the phone with her. He assumes the same thing happened with her, because when he's awoken at 10 am by the urge to pee, his phone is dead.

Salem curses, and he only notices the time when he plugs in his phone. He's an hour and a half late for school. Salem can't remember the last time he was late, he's had near perfect attendance his entire life. He jumps out of bed, stumbling into his dresser in his haste. He's definitely going to have a bruise or two.

Salem is hardly paying attention, rooting through his dresser until he finds a pair of grey sweatpants, haphazardly tugging them on and grabbing the first t-shirt he sees. He doesn't look at what's on it, not bothering to even attempt to tame his hair and brushing his teeth with timing hardly passable. He thinks about putting in his contacts, but decides that he's already late enough and digs his old glasses out of his nightstand.

Salem grabs his keys, leaves his phone, and barely remembers to get his bag before making his exit. He drives to school, far too fast, as he internally curses his stupidity. Seriously, Salem? The first day of the new semester—the last semester, as a matter of fact—and this is the impression you make? Being an hour and a half late—it's already second period. Goddammit.

Salem parks in his spot, crooked and barely in the lines. Salem doesn't quite run to the front doors, but he definitely doesn't walk. He rushes into the office, and finds the lady at the front desk staring at him with raised eyebrows. Before he can walk towards her, she points to her left and he's met with the sight of the attendance window. Right.

When Salem reaches it, the student looks up at him in expectation. Helping in the office is a class that only seniors can take, and he recognizes her from middle school. "Hey, uh, I need to sign in."

"You look like shit." She notifies him, and he rests his arms on the counter portion of the window. She just stares at him, and he sighs.

"Thanks." He replies dryly. She rolls her eyes, before asking the routine question that she should've began with. "Why are you late?"

"I overslept." He notifies her. She looks unimpressed. "My phone died and didn't wake me up."

She hums, pulling out a slip of paper and writing on it. He just stands there patiently for a few minutes. Eventually she hands it to him, but before she lets go, she notifies him of one more thing. "I put that you had a family matter, so you won't get detention."

He gives her a grateful smile, sending her some parting words and hurrying out of the office and down the hallway. He already memorized where his second class, world history, was, and begins to make his way that direction. He sees a few teachers and several students in the hallways, and most of them look at him in curiosity. This is probably due to his haste and disheveled appearance. It's rare that Salem Heart doesn't look put together.

Salem takes a deep breath once he reaches the door, and he can hear a guy on the other side speaking. Ugh, this is gonna suck.

Salem opens the door, and as expected, all eyes turn to him. It's a pretty big class, unfortunately, which has Salem even more on edge. The teacher—Mr. Morris, if he remembers correctly—turns to face him as he steps in.

"You're late, Mr. Heart."

Salem nods, eyes wide. God, he hopes he doesn't get in trouble. The attendance girl seemed pretty confident that he'd be fine. Still, Salem never gets in trouble. Especially at school, it's so unbelievably rare. He risks a glance at the class, and finds that they appear to be mostly disinterested. There are expressions of curiosity on a few of their faces, though, because as stated before: Salem never gets in trouble. He's never late. He never messes up, he doesn't make petty mistakes like this.

"Yeah, sorry, uh—" As Salem speaks, he avoids eye contact. This leads to his gaze wandering around the room, eventually meeting a familiar pair of hazel eyes. He completely freezes, staring at Atlas' bored expression. At the eye contact, Atlas has no reaction. Salem, however, tries to remember how to think.

He fails. His mind is completely blank. It takes way more effort than it should for him to rip his gaze away and focus on the task at hand. Unfortunately, he can't remember the excuse that Office Girl put on his slip. "I was... um..."

He lifts the slip up so he can read it better, and he's trying to ignore how fast his heart is beating. His cheeks feel a bit warm as well, which he also chooses to pay no mind to. "I had a... family matter."

Mr. Morris is just staring at him doubtfully, and he's holding his hand out. Upon being handed it, he reads the paper as well, and it's clear that he finds Salem suspicious. This is understandable. After a moment, though, he waves his hand in the direction of the rest of the class. Salem assumes that's his way of telling him to take a seat.

Salem sighs in relief, happy that he didn't get in trouble. This feeling only lasts a few seconds, until he realizes that he does not have many seating options. Due to the class being large, and Atlas having the reputation he does, the only spots left are in Atlas' immediate vicinity. All the way in the back.

Salem takes a deep breath, and begins making his way that direction. Atlas is no longer looking at him, but Salem still feels self conscious. He's acutely aware of his appearance now, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it. Ugh, and he's wearing his glasses. He hates the way he looks in glasses, that's why he wears contacts.

This is when Salem realizes something. He looks down at his shirt, and immediately feels his face get even warmer. Oh shit. Shit. Fuck. Why didn't he pay more attention when he was getting dressed?

The t-shirt he'd picked out has a familiar graphic print on it, and he immediately recognizes it as belonging to Atlas.

God, Salem's so fucking stupid. He has several shirts and hoodies and such that Atlas left behind and never asked for back. He makes a conscious effort not to wear them, though, for obvious reasons. Especially when he's at risk of seeing his ex.

There's no way Atlas didn't notice, either. He was standing in front of the entire class.

Salem already wants this day to end.