Same as every morning. Not too early, not too late. Just in time to dodge the loud groups hanging around the entrance.

I ran into Ryan in the hallway. He’s my only friend.

Well… “friend” is kind of a big word. Let’s just say he talks to me sometimes and doesn’t look at me like I’m some escaped lab experiment.

“You forget how to sleep again?” he muttered, hoodie pulled over his head, eyes half-closed.

I didn’t answer. He doesn’t really care anyway. And he’s not wrong. I didn’t sleep much.

I was busy.

I checked the time: 7:56. He’d be here in four minutes.

I set my stuff on my desk, opened a book I wasn’t planning to read, and looked up just in time.

He walked in.

Always with that way of entering a room like it’s a runway.

His crossbody bag slipping off his shoulder, earbuds hanging out, and that messy hair that should honestly be illegal.

He glanced around like he always does.

Smiled at a girl in the front row.

She blushed.

Tch.

She doesn’t deserve that smile.

No one does.

He sat down. Two rows in front of me.

Just far enough not to notice me.

Just close enough for me to see everything.

He pulled out a chocolate bar.

I knew he’d do that. He always does that on Mondays. It’s part of his little comfort routine.

I’ve got my routines too.

Like that little app I installed on my phone.

Nothing crazy, okay? Just something to monitor nearby Wi-Fi connections.

Not to track him. Just to know if he’s around.

It’s... comforting.

It’s like a ritual.

“You planning to stare at him all day, or do you have homework to do?” Ryan whispered, giving me a weird look.

I flipped to a random page.

“I’m not staring. I’m just making sure he’s okay.”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

He doesn’t get it.

He doesn’t know how dangerous this world is. People get hurt, betrayed, tricked.

Not me.

Not him.

I’m not crazy.

I’m just… protective.